by Jean Kilczer
I moved in closer, though I knew my time was limited in geth state. Stay too long, and the laws of the universe will trap you and move you into a new lifebind.
Spores! Rows of small brown spores lined the grooved sides of mature roots, just waiting for freedom and a wind to start them on their adventure.
I felt the hold on my physical body beginning to weaken, and I fled back.
I opened my eyes. The white structure, so like an animal itself, seemed to growl deep in its belly.
“Watchdogs!” Sophia said and unholstered her stingler. “Jules. Are you back?”
“I'm here.” I got shakily to my knees and took out my weapon as two black Dobermans charged out of the night, flashing through a searchlight.
“Take the one on the left,” I told Sophia. “I've got the one on the right. Stun setting.”
I heard her spin the ring, then we fired together. The dogs yelped and rolled, raising sand. Their panting quieted. I saw the red lights blink on their collars. “Uh oh. Alarm systems.”Help me up."
When I was on my feet, we trotted toward the water, but the searchlights pinned us. Huff was ahead and beyond their reach.
“Stop,” a voice blared from a speaker, “or I will shoot.”
A warning hot beam blazed across our path and turned sand to glass. We both stopped.
“Huff,” I said, “they haven't seen you. Take off!”
“Take off what?” he asked. “I am wearing nothing.”
“Get back in the water and behind the ice packs. You'll blend in with them. Tell Joe what happened. Now go!” I ordered as two jeeps plowed across the beach, their headlights bouncing over sand.
“I would rather stay and help you,” Huff said and backed away from the headlights.
“You can't,” I told him. “Now, dammit, go!”
He loped to the water's edge and out of sight as the jeeps pulled up and ground to a stop. I tapped out a Morse code on my comlink to Joe. SOS. SOS.
“Raise your hands,” a voice grated.
We did.
A husky man with a light-colored crew cut and a face chiseled out of marble strode toward us holding a stingler.
“What are we going to do?” Sophia asked.
“I'm…I'm working on it.”
“Work faster,” she whispered as four other men left the jeeps and crowded around us.
“Get their guns and knives,” the husky man ordered the tag next to him.
His companion, a young slim man with oversized ears came forward and unstrapped our holsters and our knives with shaking hands and brought them to the husky man. “Here, Tracy.”
“What the hell do I want with them, Cory?” Tracy jerked his head toward a jeep.
“Oh.” Cory went there.
“Now who the hell are you,” Tracy asked us, “and what're you doing on our property?”
“We're just divers,” I said, “looking for lobsters. We stopped to rest. Sorry, we didn't see the `No Trespassing' sign.”
He came closer and stared into my eyes. “Who you fucking with, scud? There's no lobsters in the winter.”
I put on a look of surprise and glanced at Sophia. “Did you know that, dear?”
She shook her head. “I thought they were all-year-round lobsters.”
Tracy pushed my shoulder hard. “Searching for lobsters with stinglers? And where's your bug bags?”
“Damn,” I said and shook my head. “We forgot our bug bags, dear.”
“Oh,” Sophia said. “We left them in the Land Cruiser.”
“The stinglers are for any encounters with sharks,” I told Tracy.
He narrowed his eyes. “Sharks?”
“Sharks,” Sophia said.
“Especially bull sharks,” I added. “Look, Mister, we don't want any trouble. Just let us go back to the water.”
“I could burn both of you,” he said. “Armed and trespassing. The police couldn't touch me.”
“Give us a break, Tracy.” I put my arm around Sophia's shoulders. “We're newlyweds. Let us go and we'll never bother you again.”
Sophia smiled and leaned her head against me.
Tracy chewed his lip, then shrugged and lowered his weapon. “I hate to burn a woman.” He nodded toward the sea. “Get the hell out of here, and don't come back!”
“OK,” I said. “Thanks. Uh, could we have our stinglers and knives and fins and masks back?”
“No!”
“OK.” I took Sophia's arm. “C'mon, dear.”
“What the fuck's going on out here?” a familiar, high-pitched voice called from the door of the estate.
Uh, oh, Al!
“Let's go, dear.” I hurried her toward the water and looked back.
Al came into the lights from the jeeps buttoning his shirt. “Who are these scuds?” he asked Tracy, and shoved his shirt inside his pants. “You two,” he called to us. “Stay there! I want to talk to you.”
Shit! I thought.
We stopped and I kept my head lowered. We still wore our hoods.
“Just a couple of night divers, boss,” Tracy told Al. “They decided to rest on the wrong beach.”
“We're leaving,” I said.
“No you're not,” Al told us.
I bit my lip.
He squinted as he came closer, then grabbed my sleeve and turned me to face him.
“Just a couple of newly-wed night divers,” I mumbled. “Give us a break, tag.”
He pulled down my hood. “A couple of night divers,” he said through teeth “You fuckin' kraut. You're supposed to be dead!”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Oh, Jules.” Sophia leaned against me.
Al yanked down her hood. “An' you, you traitorous bitch. Where's my brother?” he asked me. “Where's Paulie? I'm gonna rip out his fuckin' lungs an' feed him to the fishes.” He grabbed the front of my suit. “Where is he?”
“They wouldn't tell us,” I said.
“He's in the Witness protection Program, isn't he?”
“Probably.”
“What state?”
“They wouldn't tell us that either.”
“I oughta rip off those rubber suits and kick your asses back into the water.”
“You don't want to do that,” I said.
“I don't?”
“I've already done a preliminary investigation on bristra…Blackroot. I can assist your lab team in further studies. It's what you want, isn't it? Further studies?” You slimy bastard! I thought. “In return –”
“In return?” Al said. “Marone e mia, he told Tracy,”he's still got a pair of brass balls. Get the fuck inside!" He pushed me toward the estate.
I reached for Sophia's hand and squeezed it.
Al broke my grip with a fist and pushed Sophia toward Tracy, who grabbed her. “Lock her in a guest room.”
“You know the deal, Al,” I said. “You don't hurt Sophia, and I'm your pet serf. I want to see her every day to know that she's all right.”
“You mother fucker, you're still telling me what to do? This is what you'll see every day.” He made a fist and hit me across the face. I staggered back, but kept my feet. “It still holds.” I put a hand to my stinging cheek. “I don't see her, I don't work.”
Al glanced around at the watching men. “Get the fuck inside!” He pushed me.
I could have killed him with a tel blow to his brain stem. But I couldn't handle all the others. I looked at Sophia, then turned and strode toward the building. I have only killed when it was absolutely necessary, but Al was on my short list, if and when the opportunity presented itself. I owed the world a favor.
Chapter Eighteen
“Come in,” Don Rastelli said in a voice rough with age. His hair was white, his jowls sagged in a broad face. “Sit down.” He motioned to a chair across from his desk in the dark, gloomy office. A fog of cigar smoke hung in the air. The bitter smell was in my throat. Two men sat in shadows along a wall. I was flanked by Zach and Vito. Al walked behind me. An aria I didn't r
ecognize emanated softly from wall speakers.
I sank into the cushioned chair. I hadn't slept or eaten since the night before, when Sophia and I were captured on the beach. There was too much on my mind for gentle sleep to be invited in.
“I would offer you a glass of vino,” Rastelli said, “but it's early in the morning. Demi tasse?”
I shook my head. “What did you want to see me about?”
Al stepped forward. “Show some respect.”
Rastelli raised a hand. “Va bene,” he told Al. “It's all right.” He scratched his cheek. “You see before you,” he told me, “an old man.”
Here it comes, I thought. Give me back my youth.
“I can be very generous when I am given what I want. Money no longer interests me. My family, and my friends, they're all provided for.”
“If you want to know how long it will take to locate and extract the bristra longevity element, and make it available to humans, I'd just be guessing.”
“Then give me your best guess,” he said.
“A year. Five years.” I shrugged. “It's an alien species. It doesn't have the same morphology as lifeforms that developed on Earth.”
Rastelli rubbed his lips and looked at Al. Al straightened, prepared to do the don's bidding, I think. “My biologist from the Los Alamos Lab,” Rastelli said, “has been given everything she needs to study this…lifeform, as you call it.” He shifted stiffly in his chair. “I would like you to look over my lab and tell me if there is anything else you need for your work.”
Freedom, I thought, but didn't say. Instead, I just nodded.
Rastelli leaned forward in his chair. “I am curious about one thing. If you had entered my lab last night, what were your intentions?”
“Either steal the bristra or destroy it.”
He studied me. “I can understand stealing it. But to destroy it…” He shook his head. “This makes no sense to me.”
That's because you're a degenerate, I thought. “Bristra,” I said, “is a dangerous opportunistic plant/animal that would ravage the land if it were set free. It moves fast and it destroys all life in its path, including humans. You have roots in your lab, Don Rastelli, that have already produced spores. If these spores get loose, the wind will carry them far and wide.” I tapped the desk. “Is that enough reason for you?”
Al kicked a leg of my chair.
“What if I can assure you,” Rastelli rubbed his chin, “that we will take all necessary precautions and this root will never get free?”
“I saw your list of customers, Don. One slip by any of them, and it will be too late. The spores will produce wild roots, and they will quickly mature and produce more roots. It can easily become an apocalyptic event.”
Rastelli looked at Al. “Ma che cosa…?”
“A disaster, Godfather,” Al explained.
Rastelli shrugged. “There are always two sides to every coin,” he told me. “This plant/animal, as you call it, can also extend life.” He leaned forward. His eyes became intense. “For how long?”
“I don't know. I hadn't completed the preliminary studies when your capo kidnapped my daughter and my girlfriend, and forced me to leave my work.”
“That was unfortunate,” Rastelli said, “but suppose we put it behind us?”
Fuck you! I thought and rubbed my tired eyes. “So you intend to hold me and Sophia here until I find a cure for old age? Is that the plan?”
“You and your comare will be treated well.” He traced a finger across the desk. “You will be given everything you ask for, except –”
“Our freedom.”
He raised his hands and smiled. “That would be a foolish wish to grant you. You understand?”
I sat back. “Only too well. Will you personally see to it that Sophia is cared for?”
He nodded. “On the souls of my children.”
I glanced at Al. During an earlier run-in with him, Al had sworn on the souls of his children that he'd let me live, but my tel probe had caught his thought of my demise.
The only ace I had was that Joe and the team knew our location, and our situation. “Are we finished?” I asked the don.
His features hardened. “I will tell you when we are finished. Now you tell me, how much more time before you have a drug that I can take?” He tapped his chest hard.
That bad, I thought. Maybe a heart condition. “First,” I said, “I have to determine how each individual gene protein trigger interacts independently from each other, and then each variant in every possible combination. And remember, it has an alien morphology. I wouldn't want to inject you with it and find that the side effect was death.” Let him chew on that!
He looked at Al.
Al shrugged.
Rastelli rubbed a hand across his chest and stood up.
The two tags in the corner got to their feet. Al and Zach and Vito moved closer.
“Get up!” Al told me.
I did.
“Alberto,” the don said, “is the police captain waiting to see me?”
“He is, Godfather.”
Rastelli nodded. “Then we are finished,” he told me. “I expect reports on the progress of your work, say once a week.”
“If there is progress,” I told him, turned and walked out the door, followed by my entourage.
“This one will be trouble,” I heard the don tell the tags in the corner.
You got that right! I thought.
* * *
I sat alone in the lab and studied a tank of mature bristra. Whenever I tapped the glass, yellow flowers sprang open along its sides, enticing the prey closer. The brown spores rolled, ready to catch a wind for flight.
Spirit, I sent, it would be a big help if you would tell me just a little bit more about your great creation…Spirit? I guess he was too busy creating more of his natural wonders.
I am here, Jules. You humans have jokes about genies in bottles who grant wishes. I am beginning to feel like your personal genie. What do you require of me this time, master?
I'm in a mess here, Spirit. I need to know –
Oh?
I took a breath. I need to know what potent element is in bristra cells that causes them to jump back to the juvenile state and how I can isolate it.
With your primitive instruments, that will not be easy.
Is it doable?
Probably, but your process of doing clinical tests could take Earth years.
I don't care, Spirit. I just want to make it look good until Joe and the team can get us out of here. Before I leave, I intend to destroy every last root!
Every last root?
Well, maybe just a cutting that I can really study at the Los Alamos Lab.
Why am I not surprised?
Probably because you know I'm an astrobiologist and this is a fascinating lifeform. Dangerous, but fascinating. One of your more gifted children.
And it will never be set free from your lab?
Never! I can vouch for that.
I seem to recall South American killer bees.
That was different. I intend to destroy the spores as they develop. No spores. No new roots in wild areas.
So in the end, you are also intrigued by the possibility of eternal life.
I'm intrigued by the study of the root, Spirit.
Eternal life. What's the Terran term you often use? It's not in the lard.
In the lard?
Oh, in the yard.
Spirit, what the hell are you talking about?
I have it! It's not in the cards. Know this, Jules, Great Mind does not incorporate eternal life into His Plan. The kwaiis must move on to new lifebinds. Your long-lived jellyfish do not really live forever, and neither does bristra. New lifebinds await us all. Even myself.
But bristra can extend a lifebind?
It can. In the end, what good comes from that? There is much more that will be learned by moving on.
We humans are afraid of death, Spirit. We cling to our lifebinds.
&n
bsp; Because you Terrans don't really understand the geth state.
I've been very close to it, when Great Mind pulled me back from Priest's dying hold on my kwaii. It was frightening.
The undiscovered country? It wasn't your time. You have many more messes to get into.
Thanks for that!
You are welcome, as you would say.
Spirit, I'm ready to take notes.
Then I will give them.
It was hours later, and copious notes later, that Norma, from my own bio team back at Los Alamos, entered the lab. I saved the notes on the comp in a private file that said BLOCK AUTHORS, and turned to her.
“I've been hesitating to enter the lab,” she said in her sultry voice, and shook her blond curls. Norma was young, beautiful, and very ambitious. She had always focused on creds too much and knew exactly how to use her feminine wiles for her own objectives. Her slim body and oversized breasts, those beguiling wide blue eyes, that translucent skin, dotted with freckles on an upturned nose, her full, fuck-me lips, drew tags to her like moths to fire. I always wondered why she became a biologist and not a high-end prostitute.
“Why hesitate?” I asked. “You have something you feel guilty about?”
She began to widen her eyes and I turned back to the tank of bristra. At least they were overtly dangerous.
“I know the way you feel about me, Jules, but we have to work together.”
“We don't have to like it.”
She came closer. I smelled her perfume. “You know,” she said, “I always thought you were one of the best-looking men I've ever met.” She put her hand on my shoulder.
I looked at it and she took it off.
“Is that why you betrayed my trust by contacting the Mafia and getting my daughter and girlfriend kidnapped?” I turned on the stool to face her. “I suppose it's a good thing you didn't consider me ugly. Only God knows what you would've done.”
Her eyes narrowed to blue chips. “I'll show you my notes and we can proceed from there.”
“Yes,” I said. “Let's do.”
You show me yours, I thought, but you don't get to see mine.
Chapter Nineteen
I sat in Terran JoeBoss' den, a strange lair with no bones from past meals piled on the fuzzy thing spread across it, and no cache of meat and fat drying in a corner for coming meals. I glanced up. I am not with comfort inside the Terran burrows with their flimsy overheads. Their see-throughs along the walls shut out the cool night breezes with its many aromas. I do not think Terrans smell the outside or see the small animals that dash through the night. They are so far away from the earthly joys of our Nature mother.