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GENESIX: THE TRILOGY

Page 11

by Greg Logan


  Jake landed on the floor of level one, which housed the landing bay. The floor and walls were made of concrete and interlaced with steel girders for support.

  At the moment, this level served as the landing bay for only one vehicle. And that vehicle was only partially completed. When it was finished, it would be a space craft. With Scott’s teleportation field functioning so efficiently, able to beam them anywhere on the planet within the blink of an eye, there was little need for a ship. However there was one place Scott wanted to go that was beyond the range of the teleporter—Europa. The large moon orbiting the planet Jupiter.

  Studies he had run had convinced him there was water on Europa, possibly a gigantic ocean covering the entire moon. The water was covered by a layer of ice, in some places many miles thick. But the water beneath the ice was not frozen and the atmosphere was primarily oxygen, giving the hope that life might be discovered in the water.

  It would most likely be only microbial life, but still life. Not as dramatic as finding an extraterrestrial civilization, but Scott had said more than once he was not after drama. He was seeking discovery.

  The vessel they were converting into a space craft was actually an old World War II era bomber with a rusty hull and only one wing. Jake had rescued it from a junkyard in Oklahoma. The hull needed to be refurbished a new wing attached so it would fly, and the interior totally remodeled to include bunks and lab equipment.

  Very little fuel would be needed because Scott intended to design an energy field that would allow them to manipulate gravitational fields in space, and the ship would simply fall through the vacuum between Earth and Jupiter.

  One problem was, even at their best speed Europa was still about a year and a half away. The laws of physics couldn’t be broken. As such, the Europan mission was currently on the back burner, along with a couple dozen other projects.

  Jake stepped into an elevator and rose to the next level, which held Scott’s extensive laboratories.

  The doors slid open and he found Scott staring into a computer monitor. He was sitting on a wooden stool, his lab coat tails falling behind him.

  April Hollister sat beside him. Running shorts cut nicely short and a tank top. As an athlete, she had great legs, but Jake doubted Scott noticed. He was too intrigued by whatever he was observing on the computer.

  “Hi, Jake,” April said, ever chirpy and cheery.

  “Hi, April. Scott.”

  Scott waved a hand at Jake, but didn’t divert his eyes from the computer.

  A male human voice filled the air about him. “Hello, Jake.”

  It was Scott’s computer. Not the one he was gazing into, but his main unit. The one that essentially ran the place. The one that had been once housed in an old Mac casing but was now in a console in the wall. A photonic computer, he called it. Scott had threatened once to explain what a photonic computer was, but Jake told him not to or he would jump out a window. Not that this facility had any windows but the point was made.

  “Hello,” Jake said to the computer.

  He was still not entirely comfortable with a computer that could actually talk to you and carry on a conversation. The thing didn’t simulate conversation, it actually made it.

  “Would you like me to put on some coffee?” it asked.

  “No, thanks.” Jake stopped at a counter top and removed the belt that went with his battle suit. The belt contained communication devices and most of the micro circuitry that allowed him to fly.

  “You know,” Jake found himself saying, “you should have a name. I mean, whenever Scott talks to you, he just calls you computer.”

  “I don’t know if I really have a need for a name. I mean, I have no real ego, to speak of.”

  “Sure, you need a name. After all, what’s a man, or whatever you are, without a name?”

  April piped up, “We can call you Sammy.”

  “How about it, Computer. Would you like to be called Sammy?”

  The computer said, “I’ll have to think about that.”

  Scott said, still staring into the monitor, “That’s it.”

  April said, “You like the name Sammy?”

  “No, that’s not it. I...what?” He finally looked up. He hadn’t really been listening.

  April snorted a chuckle. “Your computer. We’re thinking on naming it Sammy.”

  He looked at her like he was really not following her, and he surely didn’t have the time to try. “I found the gene.”

  “You mean, I have it?”

  Jake said, “Don’t feel you have to explain to me whatever project you’re working on now.”

  He wasn’t being polite. He meant it. No matter how much he could power-up, Scott’s technobabble could make his head hurt.

  Scott proceeded anyway. “As you know, I’ve mapped the human genome in three dimensions. Actually, I had by the time I was twelve.”

  Jake had the feeling he was about to be assaulted with technobabble. “Hey, Sammy, do we have any beer?”

  “In the fridge, Jake.”

  “Thanks.”

  Scott continued, as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “I decided to check April for the genesis gene. I intend to check everyone, and I decided to start with her. And she has it.”

  She squealed. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I really have it? A latent super power?”

  Scott nodded. “It seems so. I’m a little astonished. I had theorized such a thing was extremely rare.”

  Jake pulled open the door of a small dorm fridge in the corner of the room. Bottles of Moosehead were standing, waiting for him. Moosehead was one of Jake’s favorites. April had been thinking of him when Scott beamed her to civilization recently so she could do some grocery shopping. Jake twisted off the bottle cap and gave her a thumbs-up as a way of saying thank you. She shot back a smile at him.

  “Of course,” Scott was saying, “I was really young when I discovered the genesis gene, and I theorized it was some sort of rare mutation. But I had very little data to base my assumptions on. Hell, I was only a kid. So I simply guessed, and dared my professors to catch me.”

  Jake tossed the bottle cap over his shoulder and it clinked on the tile floor. Jake did this because he knew it annoyed the hell out of Scott. At least, it usually did. At the moment, Scott was on a tangent and wouldn’t have noticed an earthquake.

  “I was going for my first doctorate, and at first I was merely thrilled I had found a subject for my thesis that I could be assured wasn’t taken by anyone else.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jake said. “Enough about you. This is about April. You said she has the gene?”

  Scott nodded. “With absolutely no doubt.”

  She said, “Does this mean I can, like, fly or something?”

  “Or,” Jake said, “you might grow green scales and gills.”

  She tossed a scowl at him.

  Scott said, “It doesn’t really mean anything, because I still don’t know what activates it. Mine was activated, but I still don’t really know what caused it.”

  “I’m awfully glad it did, though,” Jake said. “Otherwise, we might all still be back in Massachusetts, living normal lives.”

  “Oh, stop.”

  April said, “So, was it the reactor explosion that triggered Jake’s genesis gene?”

  Scott looked back to the computer monitor. “Actually, Jake doesn’t have a genesis gene. His power comes from some sort of mutation that apparently happened during the explosion.”

  “So, you mean, he’s the only normal one here?”

  Jake smiled. “I always suspected it.”

  It was then that a device in Jake’s belt came to life, issuing out the opening riff’s to the Stone’s Satisfaction. It was his cellular communication device. “Mandy’s calling,” he said.

  He went back to the counter and pulled the device from the belt and flipped it open. “Hi.”

  However, it was a man’s voice. “Uh...hi? Who am I talking to?”

  There was noise in the ba
ckground. Chaos kind of noise. People talking fast. One woman making a sort of low, almost groaning sound.

  “Who is this?” Jake said.

  Sammy, programmed to eaves-drop on all communications for security reasons, didn’t recognize the man’s voice either and went into immediate defensive alert. Generators began cranking up in anticipation of needing more power for whatever Scott would need him to do in defense of this place. Part of the protocol was to put the communication on loud speaker.

  Now they could all hear the man as he said, “Look, you don’t know me. My name is Rick Wilson. Uh...is this Captain Courageous?”

  Scott had gotten to his feet and was now fully focused on Jake.

  Sammy said, “The location is the news room at the Boston Press Herald. Kimberly Stratton’s desk.”

  “Where is Miss Stratton?” Jake said.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She’s, uh, well, she’s not doing too good. We’ve called an ambulance.”

  That was when they heard a scream clearly. And then Mandy calling out, “Jake? Jake, are you there?”

  “What’s going on?” Jake said.

  The man said, “We’re taking her to a hospital. She’s, like, bleeding all over the place. But she wanted us to call you.”

  Scott, however, seemed to have an idea as to at least what might be happening.

  “Computer,” he said. “Operation Seven Three Two Five.”

  Sammy said, “Seven Three Two Five, confirmed.”

  “April, grab a field pack. Sammy, prepare for teleportation.”

  “What’s going on?” Jake said to Scott.

  “Grab your utility belt.”

  Jake grabbed the belt and buckled it about his middle. April had run to a locker and pulled an olive drab shoulder bag, and hurried to Scott’s side. Scott didn’t have time to grab his battle suit, but his utility belt was buckled on beneath his lab coat. He never went far without it.

  Jake heard the familiar hum of the teleportation field forming around them.

  Scott said to Jake, “Power way down, as far as you can.”

  Jake nodded. “I am. I know, this teleporation field of yours gets disrupted by zeta energy.”

  “As far as I can tell, pretty much every kind of energy field gets disrupted by it.” Then, to his computer, Scott said, “Energize.”

  The room faded away about them, to be replaced by the news room at the Press Herald building in Boston.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The newsroom was one of the places Agent Tompkins had bugged. A hidden microphone was in the desk phone of Kimberly Stratton and another was in her intercom speaker. Still another was in the Ladies’ Room. There was also a camera overhead, snaking its way down through the suspended ceiling to a point where it pointed directly at Stratton’s desk.

  Sitting in front of a computer monitor that gave a good view of the desk was Agent Kincaid. He watched as the newswoman known as Kimberly Stratton was on the floor in a fetal position, with three unknown males standing about her. From headphones strapped across his skull he could hear the noise in the room. The shouts. The screams. A woman calling out, “Get an ambulance!” Another screaming, “Call nine-one-one!” A woman kneeling by Stratton was saying, “Hang on, Kim. It’ll be all right. Help’s on the way.”

  Then, there was the familiar sound of energy humming. Sort of like a loud fluorescent lamp. And then they faded into view. The man, Jake Calder, in his goofy looking jump suit. Kincaid knew enough about Calder and how dangerous the subject could potentially be, regardless of how ridiculous he looked. With him was the female, the one Kincaid had helped apprehend a few months earlier, and who had escaped with the help of Scott Tempest. She now appeared to be in running shorts and a tank top, and had a heavy looking bag over one shoulder. Scott Tempest was with them, in a long lab coat. He was holding a device in one hand.

  Kincaid tapped the speaker on his desk. “Boss, they’re here.”

  Agent Tompkins charged into the room. “What’s the status?”

  “They seem to be responding to the call made by one of the unknowns.”

  “What do we know about the unknowns?”

  “Very little. We’re running facial recognition software now, hoping to get a match on their visual. However, we saw the one with the long hair demonstrate some sort of telekinetic ability. The other two are total unknowns.”

  “He’s doing it. Just like I suspected,” Tompkins said. “Tempest is recruiting meta-humans.”

  Kincaid nodded. “My thoughts exactly, Boss.”

  Tompkins was wise enough to know Kincaid hadn’t necessarily been sharing those thoughts. Kincaid might not have ever had any real thoughts of his own. He was one of those underlings who agreed with the boss as a simple matter of course. Tompkins could have said the moon was made of green synthetic cheese product and Kincaid would have said, “My thoughts exactly, Boss.”

  Tompkins reached for a microphone mounted on one shoulder. “All units, the time is now. Operation Alpha.”

  He then said, “Let’s go, Kilpatrick.”

  “Kincaid,” Kincaid said.

  Tompkins ignored him. “This is the moment we have been waiting for.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Boss.”

  Jake never felt so powerless. He had the strength, at least theoretically (according to Scott) to move a planet, but all he could do was kneel beside Mandy and hold her hand while she shuddered and twitched.

  “Scott, you have to do something.”

  “I am. I’m evaluating the situation.” He was staring into the palm top computer he was holding in one hand.

  The voice of Sammy then came through an audio field forming around them. “Vitals are not good. LFT’s through the roof. Hemorrhaging profusely through a tear in the uterine lining. Placenta compromised.”

  April said to Scott, “It’s like you thought might happen.”

  Scott nodded. “The fetus is generating high levels of zeta energy, giving it enormous strength, and the walls of the human uterus aren’t strong enough to contain it. What we do in the next few seconds is going to be vital.” Into the audio field, he said, “Sammy, activate Plan Z-One.”

  “Plan Z-One, you got it, Scott. Activating.”

  Then, after a moment Sammy said, “Scott, this just came in. They’re moving him now.”

  “Now?”

  “That’s what they’re doing.”

  Scott looked to Jake. “Jake, they need you at the detention center. They’re moving LaSalle now.”

  Jake ignored him, his eyes on Mandy.

  Scott shouted at him. “Jake!”

  Jake looked up at him. Scott said, “They’re moving LaSalle now. We told them you would help provide an escort.”

  “I can’t leave her. Not know. This is my child she’s carrying.”

  “It’ll be all right. We’ve planned for this contingency. We’re prepared. You and I have talked about it. She’ll be all right. They both will.”

  Jake reluctantly nodded.

  “You have to get over to the detention center. If LaSalle should break loose, you’re about the only one who could stop him. I could, but I’m needed here.”

  April said, “She’ll be okay, Jake. You can trust Scott. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “That’s debatable,” Jake said, trying to manage a grin despite how afraid he was that he might lose both Mandy and the child she was carrying.

  “Sammy,” Scott said, “beam Jake over to the detention center.”

  Sammy said, “Energizing.”

  And with a hum of energy, Jake faded from view.

  Scott said, “I can’t believe I’m calling him Sammy, now.”

  One of the three men by the desk said, “Mister Tempest, I’m Rick Wilson. What’s happening to her?”

  “Doctor Tempest,” Scott said. “What’s happening to her is the child she’s carrying is generating zeta energy, as much so as the man who just beamed out of here. Essentially, they’re the two most powerful creatures t
o have ever walked the face of the Earth. A fetus potentially already strong enough to push a foot through a concrete wall is kicking inside her uterus.”

  Scott then said, “Of course, you have no idea what zeta energy is, do you?”

  The man shook his head.

  But the long-haired one said, “I do. I’ve done my homework. What can I do? I’m a telekinetic and a telepath.”

  Just then, someone called out, “The EMT’s are here!”

  Scott said into the audio field about them, “Sammy, we have to move now. Are you ready?”

  “Ready, Scott.”

  “All right,” Scott said, raising his voice above the din of helicopters growing louder from outside. “We’re going to attempt to beam the child from Miss Stratton to the holding chamber in our headquarters.”

  “Attempt?” The telekinetic said.

  “The child is emitting huge amounts of zeta energy right now. It could disrupt the teleportation beam. Jake has to power down almost entirely for us to beam him anywhere.”

  “Is there no method of neutralizing zeta energy?”

  Scott shook his head. “Not here, there’s not. The power drain to do that is enormous. I don’t have any portable method of doing it.”

  April said, “If we don’t try it right now, she’s not going to live long. The child is tearing her up.”

  “Sammy?”

  The computer said, “Energizing.”

  Wait-a-minute, Scott thought. Helicopters? Outside the windows? They were on the fourth floor and there was plenty of room for choppers outside, but what were they doing there?

  He went to the window just as Sammy’s voice came over the audio field, “Teleportation blocked. An electromagnetic field is being formed around the building.”

  From the window, Scott could see four military choppers, painted black. Attached to the landing gear of each was a box with a dish. From the noise of the choppers, he figured there were more than the four he could see. Probably on the other side of the building.

 

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