Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

by William Bernhardt

  “If you can isolate these individual genes, pharmacology might be able to come up with a cure. Or an antidote. Or an antitoxin.”

  “And perhaps one day someone will work on that,” Estes said. “But that wasn’t the brief I was given.” He waved the huge syringe in the air. “I believe the test subject’s cellular tissue is now ready to absorb it.”

  “You’re going to give him the drug? Full dose?”

  “Only way to give the backers what they want.”

  “The Chief gave you specs on what they wanted?”

  “And I have implemented them. Among others.”

  Estes pressed the tip of the needle against the man’s left temple, then shoved the needle all the way in.

  Despite the numbing agent, the test subject’s body writhed and spasmed.

  “Every cell in the host’s body is receiving a super-charged injection of keratin and osteopontin. This will make his bones harder. Thicker. Bigger. Stronger. But also more resilient, better able to absorb shocks. This will provide significantly increased agility and flexibility. This will give him the physical structure he needs to support the power he’ll receive when his DNA is transformed.”

  The test subject thrashed one way, then the other, twisting and tearing at the leather restraint straps.

  She took a step back from the table. “I don’t think your test subject liked his shot.”

  “His muscle tissue’s DNA is being recoded. Normally the body has strong Type Two muscles and less resilient skeletal muscle tissue. Now it’s all being rewritten into what I call Type Three—or maybe it should be called Type Tank. Something stronger than we’ve ever seen before.”

  “But for how long? Anyone consuming energy at the rate you’ve described will burn out quickly.”

  “Unless, of course, the injection also rewrites their metabolic system.”

  Her lips parted.

  “Human blood cells, as you know, discard their nuclei so they can hold more hemoglobin and thus carry more oxygen. But this host’s mature blood cells are growing new nuclei. This will result in vastly increased metabolic energy.”

  “A person designed like that could function for days without rest.”

  “Or even longer. Perhaps forever.”

  The thrashing continued with such intensity that it lifted the table off the floor, rocking it back and forth. Was the numbing agent wearing off? It reminded her of a movie werewolf, his body changing while he felt every transition.

  One of the leather straps started to give.

  “There are costs, of course, as there always are with progress. He will need a high protein intake to sustain himself. His frontal lobe will expand.”

  “Because the forebrain—the basal ganglia—controls appetite.”

  “Precisely.”

  “You’re creating a monster with cravings.”

  “You’re speaking emotionally, Dr. Coutant, not scientifically.”

  “What will it crave? How will it slake that gigantic thirst?”

  Estes only smiled.

  All at once, the test subject’s eyelids flew open. The eyes darted from side to side. She sensed an extreme emotion, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Curiosity? Fear?

  No. Anger. Rage.

  The test subject let out a roar.

  That was the best word she had for the sound that emerged from those lips. But it wasn’t like a beast and it certainly wasn’t like a man.

  Something else. Something she’d never heard before.

  She adjusted her eye reader, taking a closer look. “What’s happening to him?”

  “Every drug has side effects.”

  Muscle ridges formed around the test subject’s neck. His skull became more jutting and pronounced. His arms thickened. A blackness swept across him, rippling like an underground current, then disappearing. The green of his skin intensified, then seemed to…calcify.

  He got bigger.

  “How is this possible?” she asked.

  “In the post-Einsteinian universe, size is relative, like everything else. Specifically, size is a factor of how much space lies between our atoms. Increase that space and a person becomes larger. Though they may still be the same person. But not in this case. He’s not simply getting bigger. He’s accumulating mass and much much more.”

  All at once, the roar changed to a scream. The hideous banshee sound was difficult to describe, but she sensed that the primary emotional motivator had shifted from rage.

  To agony.

  Then his face split apart.

  His entire head grew, vastly out of proportion to the rest of his body. His eyes narrowed. The pupils disappeared, replaced by a faintly yellow tint. He foamed at the mouth.

  His hands glowed.

  Facial sores swelled then burst like rotten pustules. Some kind of eerie green fluid spurted out.

  She stepped back, hoping to avoid the spray. The air reeked.

  “This is nothing like Tank’s appearance,” she said.

  “I may not have gotten every single detail right. It’s my first attempt.”

  “But this is—”

  “Wait for it,” Estes said, smiling.

  A long vertical ridge crawled down the center of the test subject’s body, as if he were dividing in half. The ridge split open like a fault line. Blood and more of that green pus oozed out.

  The skin peeled away. Sinewy muscles and tendons were exposed.

  Coutant covered her mouth. “What—is happening?”

  “He’s becoming something different from what he was. Something better.” Estes’s eyes lit. “Shines aren’t the only ones evolving on this planet now.”

  The test subject roared again, and this time two of the three restraint straps split. He sat upright, arms suddenly thrust toward her.

  “Do something!”

  Estes stared at the table thoughtfully. “Fascinating. This has never happened before.”

  The test subject slid off the gurney, roaring as if in a murderous rage.

  Green pus flew everywhere. Saliva spilled from its lips.

  It looked at her with hungry eyes.

  She flashed back to that meeting five years before when another of Simon’s demonstrations went horribly wrong.

  The test subject rushed toward her—then stopped, barely inches away. She tried to run but it wrapped its long arms around her, holding her in place. She felt its hot fetid breath on her cheek. She peered into its horrific yellow eyes.

  It leaned in closer, head tilted, as if scrutinizing her.

  It sniffed her.

  “For Gandhi’s sake, Estes—do something!”

  Estes smiled but did not move.

  The test subject leaned in so close green ooze rubbed onto her lab coat.

  And then it stepped away.

  She ran to the farthest corner of the room.

  “He isn’t interested in you,” Estes explained. “He’s hungry. Genetically programmed that way. Looking for something, to be sure. But it isn’t you.”

  She heard a high-pitched whizzing sound. Something thunked the test subject on the chest. It collapsed onto the floor.

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning against the wall. “Estes, when are you going to learn to control your guinea pigs?”

  Estes scanned his fallen test subject, taking readings with his tablet. “Don’t you see, Dr. Coutant? I do control this test subject. Completely. All he has done—or ever will do—is exactly what I want.” He smiled like a doting father. “I do believe it’s time to take this jalopy out for a test drive.”

  67

  Aura assumed the most important quality of leadership must be the ability to work tirelessly on a plan, only to toss it out the window when someone else’s plan made it superfluous. Because that was what happened, over and over again.

  “We got wheels,” Gearhead announced.

  She pressed her fingers against her temples. “Please tell me you didn’t jack someone’s car.”

  “Of course not. I jacked someone�
�s unicycle.”

  She gave Gearhead the longest look.

  “Of course I jacked someone’s car, Aura. How else are we gonna get anywhere?”

  “We’re supposed to be low profile.”

  “I was.”

  “You’re proving what the SSS keeps saying—that we’re all criminals.”

  “No one is a criminal—unless they’re caught.”

  She tried to put on her sternest expression. “Listen, you people made me leader, but I can’t function in that capacity if I have loose cannons and lone wolves—”

  “I didn’t act alone.”

  That got her attention. “Don’t chainmail me, Gearhead. What are you talking about?”

  “Mnemo was invaluable. She’s terrific.”

  Mnemo batted her hand in the air as if fanning her face. “You flatterer, you.”

  “Easy with you, sweetie.” Gearhead leaned down and planted a kiss smack on Mnemo’s lips.

  “Oookay,” Aura said. “Apparently the leader is not informed of every significant team development.”

  Dream looked bored. “Seriously? You didn’t know? You must be blind. You should listen to me.”

  “If I listened to you, I’d think everyone is gay.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t the one cuddling with Tank last night.”

  Tank rose to her impressive height. “I resent that. Aura and I are just friends. Close friends.”

  She cleared her throat. “Getting back to the subject of theft—”

  “Could we just clear the air, now and forever,” Gearhead said. “Mnemo and I are a couple. We love each other. Anyone have a problem with that?”

  No one did.

  “Good. You can proceed with the meeting, Aura.”

  Gee, thanks. “We can’t prove the SSS is right by stealing cars.” She paused. “How did you do it, anyway?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I was gonna go with a coat hanger. Mnemo told me how hopelessly dated I was.”

  “That doesn’t work anymore,” Mnemo explained, “except maybe on older cars. Japanese car doors open sideways. Even when it does work, you could trip a car alarm.”

  “I’m assuming you found a way around that.”

  Gearhead nodded. “First, Mnemo showed me how to find that blinking light that tells you if the car alarm is on. Apparently a lot of people who have alarms still don’t use them. Then she told me to look for a car driven by a smart teenage girl.”

  “We only steal from our peers?’

  “Just applying known facts to the given sitch,” Mnemo explained. “Girls are better drivers than boys. That’s why we pay lower car insurance premiums. We take better care of our cars, get regular maintenance and all that. So Gearhead looked for a smart girl car—like an economy car, not a huge SUV or sports convertible, in good condition, with the car alarm off.”

  “And then?”

  “Searched under the body and bumpers for an emergency key in a magnetic case. Eighteen percent of all drivers hide them under the body in case they lose their keys. And that hypothetical smart girl is more likely to be one of the ones who do.”

  “And a teenage girl is more likely to lose her keys,” Dream added.

  “That’s all very smart and savvy, but it’s still stealing.”

  “After we’re done,” Gearhead said, “I’ll drop the car off somewhere and call the owner using the info on the registration. They’ll lose their car for a day, max.”

  “Well…I guess I can live with that. But the owner probably reported it stolen—”

  “Altered the license tag. We won’t get caught.”

  She might not like the idea. But there was no escaping the facts. She had a smart team. And they worked together well.

  Gearhead spoke again. “Oh, almost forgot.”

  “Yeesss?”

  She reached into her backpack. “Got you a present.”

  “Dare I ask?”

  A moment later, Gearhead held out what appeared to be a brand-new state-of-the-art tablet.

  “Okay, now this is just stealing.”

  “Get over it, Aura,” Twinge said. “If we’re gonna function, we’re gonna need net access. How else will we know what’s going on in the world?”

  “We have the eye readers Gearhead liberated for us. And watches.”

  “That may not be enough,” Gearhead said. “And we can only use them outside the blanket. I patched this tablet into the library’s T-9. I don’t think there’s any chance of detection. Even in the unlikely event that someone detected my hack, they wouldn’t suspect Shines holed up in the basement.”

  Aura stared at this tablet capable of linking to a huge computer database and accessing files, downloading information, hacking into other computers, and even performing scans and data analysis. “I’m drawing a line in the sand. We’re talking about major theft here. Whoever you stole this from is going to miss it, and I can’t countenance—”

  “I stole it from TYL.”

  “The—“ She did a double take. “You did?”

  “Yeah. Before it got blown to smithereens.”

  “You stole from them while we were still there?”

  “I was bored. I wanted to check my Twitter account.”

  “But they searched our rooms constantly.”

  “I’m smarter than they were. Which is why I still have it today. And now I’m giving it to you.”

  “I suppose if you had to steal from someone…” She would like to see the expression on Coutant’s face when she learned her technology helped them. “Well, it’s done. No use crying now.”

  “Aura, with Mnemo’s brilliant help, I’ve augmented the capability of the tablet and the readers and linked both. We’ve added the same communication abilities I put on the eye readers, but on its own network. I created a traveling hot spot, so we should be able to communicate with one another wherever we are. We can even transfer data through the watches.”

  Twinge bounced up. “Can we text?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank Gandhi. I was about to go insane.”

  Dream pointed to her eye reader. “I have a question. Does this come in blue?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “But blue is my color. Aura, make her go back for more of them.”

  “I’m not going to authorize more theft so you can accessorize.”

  “I think they totally rock,” Twinge said.

  Tank pushed hers aside. “I’m concerned that if they shatter during combat, I could lose an eye.”

  “If you get hit in the eye during combat,” Gearhead noted, “you could always lose an eye.”

  “Point taken.”

  “So what do you say, leader? Are we gonna use all my cool toys?”

  She knew she was beaten. “Get us hooked up, Gearhead. This equipment could prove invaluable.”

  “So,” Dream said, “now that we have all this lovely tech, and even a set of wheels…are we going after Trent?”

  “We need more intel before I make a decision about—”

  Harriet cut in. “You’ve got mail.”

  She turned her head. “What?”

  “You have email. From your friend. About Perfume.”

  “I thought you couldn’t get signals when the blanket is up.”

  “I accessed your tablet.”

  She didn’t bother asking how. She wouldn’t understand the explanation even if she heard it. “Okay, I’ll check it out. If there’s nothing else…we’ll adjourn. This was really good work everyone. Especially you, Gearhead. Thanks.”

  Gearhead beamed. She grabbed Mnemo’s hand and squeezed it. “I like this lots better than being a wanted criminal. I mean, we’re still wanted criminals. But at least now we’re having some fun.”

  “And we don’t have to go to twelve-step meetings,” Mnemo added.

  A chorus of Amens filled the room.

  The corner of Dream’s lips turned up. “Doesn’t every league of bandits have a motto or something? Like ‘All for one and one for all?’ Ours
should be, ‘My life may suck—but it’s better than a twelve-step meeting.’”

  “Let’s not be negative. Many people have benefitted from—”

  “Oh, lighten up,” Dream said. “Those meetings sucked and you know it.”

  “Some of the people at TYL were genuinely trying to—”

  “Admit it.”

  “I don’t want to go negative.”

  “Admit it!” they all said.

  She paused. “Well. I will confess that even as the complex exploded, I thought, praise Gandhi I won’t have to hear them read those damn steps aloud again.”

  For the first time in as long as she’d known them, every one of them smiled.

  ***

  Aura spent more than an hour scrutinizing the files Taj emailed her using a secure encryption program and uploading from an anonymous server. Taj had hacked his father’s home tablet. Lieutenant Sharma was a complete workaholic. Even at home at night and on weekends, he couldn’t resist accessing files and working cases. Thanks to Taj’s computer skills, she was able to absorb everything the police knew—or at least everything anyone had typed—about the Perfume case.

  The leading theory was still that Perfume was responsible for her own death—but they were unsure how it happened. Most wrote it off as another unpredictable Shine incident. They had no explanation for why she might be suicidal, so they assumed it was accidental, or perhaps that she was trying to harm someone else and her abilities backfired. None of which seemed remotely plausible.

  What concerned her most was what was not in the file. Lieutenant Sharma hadn’t included any mention of the information she gave him. Or the fact that Perfume wasn’t really a Shine. No mention of SSS involvement or agitating. Not even a reference to the near-riot outside the crime scene. Almost like he was covering something up. Or perhaps, like the SSS was so powerful even the cops didn’t want to mess with them.

  She could only assume Perfume’s mother had deliberately chosen to withhold information about Perfume’s attempt to contact her from the police. In a way, she was pleased the woman would trust her in a way that she didn’t trust the cops—more signs of Shine solidarity, right? But it didn’t give her a clue what was happening. Why did Perfume pretend to be a Shine? Why was she taken beneath the stables? And who killed her?