by Hal Bodner
My husband suddenly looked very uncomfortable and I moved to stand closer to him. It must have come across as defensive, because Richie instantly responded.
“Relax, Alec. No one’s accusing either Peter or Greene Genes of doing anything wrong. We simply need to assess the practicality of the threat. Twenty-seven million dollars is a substantial amount of cash, though not nearly as much as some of those other lunatics have demanded. If this Thanatos fellow was someone we knew already, Captain Dirigible for instance, we’d know he was serious. But I can’t allow Centerport to become an ATM for every whack job who thinks he can hold us hostage for an easy pay-out. Not unless there’s a chance they pose a legitimate threat.”
“Last week this crazy broad dropped off a ransom note at the station. She was dressed like a chicken in a rainbow-colored suit,” Gretchen chimed in. “Or maybe she was supposed to be a peacock. We never quite managed to figure out what she wanted. It had something to do with banning refined sugar. For all we know, Thanatos is nothing worse than an ex-janitor with a leather fetish.”
“Is there any substance behind these threats?” Richie asked again.
“Like most of Jackson’s projects,” Peter began cautiously, “Feed the World is primarily a benevolent program.”
“I read the specs your people sent over. You can assume I know the background as well as can be expected for someone who’s not a scientist. I don’t need the details. I just want to know if this clown is a legitimate concern or merely another wannabe looking for attention.”
“Any technology, no matter how well intentioned, can be warped. Look at what happened with nuclear power. I can’t pretend to have a definitive answer for you. The only person who would know for certain is Brad Harmon. Sadly, he was killed in the blast.”
“Although we don’t have a body yet,” Gretchen corrected, “and we haven’t been able to identify any of the…er…pieces as being…uh…him. The M.E. sure as hell has her job cut out for her. The heat was intense. And they had a lot of weird chemicals sitting around. When it all went to hell, some of the bodies got sort of fused together and…”
Richie gave her a very strange look. It was mostly blank-faced, but one side of his upper lip curled up just a little bit and his skin had taken on an odd tone. I’m not quite sure what was going through his mind at that moment but, whatever it was, Gretchen seemed to understand it. She looked embarrassed and immediately summed up with, “I only mean that we cannot confirm he’s one of the casualties. Not yet.”
“Knowing Bradley, I can’t imagine he’s still alive,” Peter said. “If he were, wild horses couldn’t keep him from rummaging through the rubble to see if he could salvage anything. Bradley was a lot of things, not all of them nice. Compulsive, impatient, rude. Because of that, it’s sometimes easy to forget that, in his own way, he was as much of a visionary as Jackson was…er…is.”
“That may be,” Richie agreed. “The question remains though, is there any chance he’s still around somewhere and could still help us out with this…” He waved his hand at the screen where the DVD was paused on a close-up of Thanatos’ mask. “… or are we absolutely sure he was one of the victims?”
Peter shrugged.
“We’re sure enough that Greene Genes has already authorized death benefits for Brad’s sister. You know what Herman Starcke is like. If there was the slightest doubt, he would have chewed off his own hand before writing the check.”
“I hardly think we can rely on Herman Starcke to guide this investigation,” Gretchen bristled.
“That’s not what I meant,” Peter told her. “I just meant that it causes Herman physical pain to spend money. Trust me, if there was any argument to be made that Bradley survived, no matter how improbable, he’d have glommed onto it as an excuse not to pay out.”
“Fair enough. So, the question remains, do we need to start figuring how much cash the city can come up with on short notice? Or do we risk waiting to see whether this guy’s capable of doing some real damage?”
“Why is it always our problem?” Gretchen grumbled. “Just once I’d like to see Cincinnati held for ransom. Or some place in New Jersey.”
“I think,” Pete said, after a long pause, “we should consider taking Thanatos seriously.”
Eyebrows rose all around and he hastened to explain.
“The best way to alter genes is with a virus. Whenever you’re working with something like that, you’re bound to come across harmful mutations. And viruses, by definition, spread. In the wrong hands, in the hands of someone who knows how to tinker…” Peter didn’t have to finish in order to make his point.
“I still need something more concrete.” Gretchen shook her head. “So far, it sounds to me like the standard shtick. Pay up or everyone dies. I need to be convinced that this guy’s not just shooting his mouth off.”
Richie nodded in agreement.
Peter sighed. “This is all proprietary technology, you understand. And there are almost always difficulties along the way. Nothing major,” he hastened to add at Richie’s look of alarm. “But enough to give a clever lawyer a leg up, you understand. You’ll all need to promise me that nothing leaves this room. Otherwise, as much as I hate to be an asshole about it, I’m going to insist on a subpoena.”
The mayor and the police chief exchanged silent looks. They may not have liked each other much, but Richie and Gretchen had sure as heck learned how to work together.
“Fair enough,” Richie said.
“Okay then. The idea behind the Feed the World project was to reverse agricultural damage,” Peter began. “For almost a hundred years, we’ve been sacrificing the nutritional value of our foods so that we can ship it more easily, or so it looks prettier in supermarkets. If we could go back in time and taste a tomato grown in 1920, it wouldn’t just taste better, it would be better for you. It used to be a slow process, mostly trial and error, to selectively breed plants for the qualities we desired. Once we discovered how to manipulate the genes themselves, in the lab as opposed to in the field, the process sped up astronomically. If you wanted to grow cotton that was resistant to weevils, or a banana that stayed fresh for weeks, you could spend a few months with a couple of petri dishes and a promising virus and…”
“Franken foods,” Gretchen said.
Peter nodded. “Initially, Jackson only wanted to reverse the process. To put the nutrients and flavor that we’d bred out of foods back into them, hopefully without sacrificing any of the other advantages. Then, he and Bradley had a better idea.”
My husband’s eyes were shining. Part of it was his enthusiasm for the project. But a little bit of it was because he’d gotten misty-eyed at the thought that the old man he so admired wouldn’t be around for much longer.
“Why not, they thought, create foods that were healthier than Nature intended? Not just restore the lost nutrients that we’d bred out, but pack ’em chock full of stuff that was even better for you. Once they set their minds to it, it turned out that it was surprisingly easy to create a virus which more or less did what they wanted.”
“More,” Richie asked, deadpan, “or less?”
“Exactly,” Peter said.
“Tell me about the ‘less’ part,” Richie said.
“I don’t understand all of it,” Peter confessed. “My expertise is in business, not biology. From what little I do know, the first hurdle was that the new virus spread too well. If you planted a single radish, for example, it could infect all the radishes around it. And not just the radishes. The virus could cross species and infect the corn, the wheat, the strawberries…”
“I can see how that would create legal problems for Greene Genes. But if that’s all there is to Thanatos’ threats, we can tell him to take a hike. Let the Greene Genes lawyers handle the claims from angry farmers. It’s none of the city’s business.”
“I’m afraid there’s a little more to it than that, Richie.” Peter looked extremely uncomfortable. “First, though, I want to assure you that we scotche
d this part of the research as soon as we realized how dangerous it was. Or, at least, that’s what I was told.”
We all waited, with varying degrees of impatience.
“There was another glitch with the virus. It wouldn’t stop with changing the crops alone. It infected anything that ate the crops. It didn’t matter what it was–a cow, a rabbit, a bird, or even a human being. After the virus got into the new host’s system, it went to work again. The early symptoms were mild, no worse than a slight cold. But after the host recovered–and I want to make it clear that the hosts always recovered, by the way–they lost the ability to absorb nutrition from uninfected food.”
“Are you saying,” Richie’s brow furrowed, “they had to eat the Greene Genes food or…starve?”
Peter nodded. “You can see why we put a stop to it. Only it didn’t stop.”
“Go on.”
“A few months ago, out of nowhere, Brad Harmon announced that he’d made a major breakthrough in connection with the Three-Two-Three variant. That’s what we called the toxic gene. He claimed he was this close…” Peter held up two fingers. “…to solving all the problems. Naturally, the Board was concerned about the way that he’d continued working in secret. There was even talk about firing him because of it.”
“I take it that Jackson Greene stopped it?”
Peter nodded. “He pointed out that, if Bradley had done what he claimed, even if we gave away the new technology for free–which was always Jackson’s plan, by the way–Green Genes’ stock would still go through the roof.”
“And your Board agreed to that?”
“Some more reluctantly than others,” Peter told him. “But they all came around in the end. At least temporarily. We agreed to delay our final determination until Bradley presented his results to the Board. That was scheduled for a few weeks after he got back from Tahiti. To give him a little extra time to work out the final bugs.”
“Wait a minute. Greene Genes let him take a vacation?” Gretchen said, with disbelief. “On the verge of a major breakthrough like this?”
Peter chuckled.
“You can bet your asses that Bradley fought them on it. Jackson insisted.”
“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
Peter shook his head. “Not for Jackson, it wasn’t. Don’t forget, he’d known Brad Harmon for years and years. They’re both workaholics, but Jackson handles it better. Bradley, at the best of times, is a walking nerve ending. Jackson knew how much was riding on this project and he wanted Bradley rested and relaxed when he made his presentation to the board. If Brad walked in looking as he usually did, like a half-crazed, over-caffeinated kangaroo, the board would not have been very receptive.”
“That makes sense, except…” A thought occurred to the mayor. “Is it possible that your Doctor Harmon actually did have a breakdown and…well…recreated himself as this Thanatos character?”
I giggled. I couldn’t help myself. The three of them targeted me with looks ranging from puzzled to irritated.
“Are we talking about the same Dr. Bradley Harmon?” My giggle grew into outright laughter. “Haven’t you all met him? It would take a crowbar to get him into that costume. Brad Harmon may want to give the world better nutrition, but I’ll bet it’s been twenty years since he put anything that actually came out of the ground into his own mouth.” I pointed at the image of Thanatos, still frozen on the screen. “Maybe if this guy was calling himself Mister Microwave or The Big Bad Belly.”
“Alec’s right. We had to hire Bradley a nutritionist after his last physical because he refused to eat properly. He claimed he had no time to worry about it. She almost had a heart attack herself when she found out how long he’d been surviving on coffee, Chinese take-out, and potato chips. I doubt that two weeks on the beach were enough to melt fifty pounds off him and put him in that kind of shape.”
“More like seventy-five pounds,” I chimed in, just to be helpful.
“I’d feel better if we had a better idea of what the connection was between Greene Genes and this clown,” Gretchen said. “He seems to have a vendetta against the company.”
“Not to mention a degree of inside knowledge that I find alarming,” Richie said. “I don’t think it’s coincidence that he showed up spouting off about your Feed the World project less than twenty-four hours after the scientists who developed it were blown to hell. By your own admission there were dangers associated with this thing.”
“Which we abandoned and took precautions against,” Peter quickly reminded him.
“But it could still be weaponized.”
“I think that ‘weaponized’ is a pretty strong term.”
“I’m not comfortable with it,” Richie decided, cutting off Peter’s protest and addressing Gretchen. “I don’t think we can afford to dismiss these threats out of hand. Can you get in touch with your friend in the blue cape?”
I bit my tongue.
“I haven’t heard from him since the fire this morning. But I’m sure he’ll turn up again soon.”
“Let me know the minute he does. I’m not looking forward to whatever kind of demonstration this Thanatos fellow is planning during your field tests tomorrow, Peter. What exactly is it you’re doing?”
“Nothing that’ll result in giant zucchini attacking the city,” Peter assured him. “Nothing to do with the Feed the World project. It’s a fairly routine test of a new pesticide. We already know it’s non-toxic and won’t negatively affect the environment. What we need to find out now,” Peter grinned, “is whether or not it actually kills the bugs. With all the regulations we have to deal with, that part sometimes gets lost. If we’re lucky…”
Richie cut him off with an exclamation that was half grunt and half growl. He used to make that sound sometimes when we were younger when he was telling me about a trick that hadn’t gone well. I rarely heard him do it anymore. While it was fine for a hustler on the street, it was a little too animalistic, and not very dignified, coming from an elected official.
“I’m hoping that this creep is nothing but bluster. On the other hand, I remember what happened when we failed to take Professor Apocalypse seriously that first time. So, we’re going to proceed as if we’re facing a legitimate threat. If it turns out that Thanatos is not much more than a wet dream in black leather…”
It seems I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
“… the worst that can happen is that we’ll all spend a few sleepless nights worrying over nothing.”
“If you’ve no objection, Peter,” Gretchen chimed in, “I want to post a few of my officers around your testing site tomorrow.”
“You’ll do more than that,” Richie told her in a tone that brooked no argument. “When I said we’re going to treat this a legitimate threat, I meant it. I want a strong police presence there. Be on the lookout for even the slightest irregularity. Peter, you make sure the Greene Genes security people are on heightened alert as well. No one gets anywhere near that testing area unless they’re authorized by your company or on Gretchen’s payroll. I will be quite happy if we never find out what Thanatos wanted to demonstrate. Gretchen, if you can get hold of the Whirlwind, I want him put on the alert as well. Oh, and Alec?”
It took me a second to realize the mayor had switched conversational gears.
“If that boy Henry is available tonight, I wanted to send Orin Culpepper a little thank you for his very generous donation to the Fine Arts Museum.”
“Have your secretary call Randy and he’ll set it up. We’ll bill your account.” Far be it from me to ever turn down a paying client.
“Good. Keep me posted everyone.”
After he left, I stood and wondered what was next until I realized that both Gretchen and Peter were itching to get to work but didn’t want to be obvious about throwing me out.
“Well!” I said brightly. “Another day, another dollar. I might as well head home and spend the rest of the evening catching up on paperwork. In the meantime, if anyone needs a dis
traction, a clever bon mot, or some fashion advice, I’m only a phone call away.” I gazed through lowered lashes for Pete’s benefit. “Or maybe a lap dance?”
“I love you, Alec. Don’t ever forget that.” Peter kissed me so deeply that even Gretchen blushed. “Now, get out.”
My butt tingled from his affectionate swat as I made my way out of the building. On the way, I telephoned Randy to warn him he’d better be on his best behavior when the Mayor’s office called. I also let him know I had some unexpected business to take care of, and he should plan on holding the reins for a few days. Then, I called Travis and told him to stay put until I got home.
He and the Whirlwind had a lot to discuss.
Chapter Nine
“Genetics is not one of my best areas.”
“So, you can kiss the Nobel Prize goodbye. I’ll bet you’re still more competent than half the scientists out there.”
Travis heaved an overblown sigh of contentment, clasped both hands over his heart, and did his best to flutter his eyelashes–which looked very strange as, only a few days ago, one of his experiments had gone wrong and he’d seared off his lashes and his eyebrows.
“Such confidence in my abilities, kiddo. Touches me right here. Now, do yourself a favor and try not to move.”
“That’s easy for you to say. It’s freezing.”
“Don’t be such a whiner. It’s at least ten degrees above freezing. Celsius.”
“Ten degrees,” I marveled. “Celsius! Imagine that!”
I was strapped, spread-eagled, to a table in Travis’ lab, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. The metal surface was colder than a witch’s you-know-what where it made contact with the bare flesh of my back and shoulders. Even though the skivvies insulated them more than the rest of me, my testicles kept trying to retreat through my stomach and wrap themselves in my intestines for warmth.
Travis had draped me from throat to mid-thigh with a sheet of thin fabric. I was under no illusion that he’d done it for my comfort.