The Prometheus Effect

by David Fleming

  “So in the grand scheme of things,” Tom said, “I just do the best job I can. I could sit on my ass, do the bare minimum required, and collect my paycheck like a lot of others do. But that’s not me. This is my chosen profession. I want to make a difference in the world. And the only way I can see doing that is to do my best. Do the right thing. Even when no one’s looking. It helps me sleep better at night. Does that make sense?”

  His partner nodded.

  “What about you?” Tom asked. “Do you ever choose who lives or dies?”

  “Sometimes.”

  CHAPTER 54

  Linda yawned. She yearned to sleep on her beloved couch. But the remembered insinuation that they would be looking in on her kept her awake. That, and the security cameras she now knew were being monitored elsewhere.

  The outer entry buzzer rang. She looked to the monitor on her desk and was startled to see a giant blurry eyeball filling the screen.

  “What the hell…”

  The eyeball left the screen and was replaced by an equally giant tongue licking the wide-angle lens. Then the person violating her camera leaned back far enough for her to identify. He waved with a stupid grin on his face.

  “Unfrickinbelievable…” she said under her breath. Please no, she wished as she buzzed the lock and went to the door.

  She opened it, and James fell off the suitcase he stood on.

  “Hi Lindas! Misses me?”

  “James? Why on earth are you back here?”

  James thrust a much crumpled envelope at her. Warily, she took it, saw her name written on it, and opened it. She read with disbelieving eyes as James struggled to get to his feet.

  Her hand fell limply in despair. “You’re coming back to live here? And you’ve got a job?”

  James made a clumsy attempt to stand at attention and executed a sloppy left-handed salute. His slinky half flew off his wrist and hit him in the face.

  Linda put a palm to her forehead and closed her eyes. The letter was signed by that Jack guy. She really didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  “Go in,” she said in a tone better suited to the phrase: Why me? She looked up in disgust at the saliva-covered camera lens and shuddered.

  James stumbled over the threshold and dragged his suitcase through upside-down, its wheels in the air.

  “Your old room is still available. Put your things in there,” said Linda.

  “Okays,” he replied.

  Little had changed in the two days James had been absent from the Box. It smelled like they might have had the couch and carpet cleaned though, and a general look of relief softened the children’s faces. With the oppressive cloud of Lori removed from the equation, it was easy to understand why.

  Recorded cartoons continued to consume the majority of everyone’s attention. With so much of their lives spent in the time machine of television, they had to know by now who the Angel was—and that her tragic accident in prison meant they were safe again.

  A few children noticed him and began whispering and pointing. Some looked sad, possibly because they thought his adoption had failed. Others developed a malicious glint in their eyes that told James they were thinking of how to make fun of him for the same reason. With Dawn no longer available as a target, they might choose to direct their torment at him. No matter; he could easily endure it.

  Tina disappeared into the quad with a large cup of water. James altered his course to investigate. Peeking out, he saw her dump the entire cup into the dirt at the base of the rose plant where Teeka was buried. More leaves had sprouted since the last time he’d lain eyes on it. It even had a swollen rosebud with hints of red, ready to bloom. She must have been watering it ever since he left. That, along with the nutrients being supplied by Teeka’s decomposing body, stimulated it to thrive.

  “Hi, Teenas,” he drawled.

  “James! You’re back!” she said excitedly. “Is Mykl back too?”

  “Nooo. Mykl gones.” He hung his head and put on a pouty sad face.

  She rushed to hug him. “It’s okay. I missed you too,” she said, smiling up at him brightly. “Look at Teeka’s rose! Isn’t it pretty? I wish Dawn could have it.”

  James gave a number of exaggerated nods. This little girl’s positive energy had always impressed him. Now she had become to him what Jack called a “priority action item.”

  “Me toos,” he said, and he followed her back inside, still dragging his suitcase. “James goes to bed now. Gots works tomorrows.”

  “Work? Where?”

  “The Poorbus Eminems.”

  Tina’s brow wrinkled. Then her eyebrows rose in understanding. “Oh, you mean the E Pluribus Unum, silly.”

  James nodded. “Poorbus Eminems.”

  “Well, you better go to bed then. See you tomorrow!”

  “Bye, Teenas,” he said.

  He dragged his suitcase down the hall, letting it paint a black scuffmark the entire way. Except for the linens having been stripped from the beds, his old room remained the same. They hadn’t even resecured the bars over his window. That would be convenient if he had to disappear again.

  He closed the door and began to unpack. He placed his old asylum clothes back into their original drawers. The slinky he positioned carefully on the desk where he used to write dots. Dawn’s letter, containing her lock of hair, he kept on his person. It was much too precious to leave lying about where sticky fingers might find it.

  After reading Dawn’s letter one more time, he rolled over on the bare mattress and drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 55

  Sebastian stuffed a hundred-dollar bill into the stripper’s stretchy G-string. He knew from classified files that this particular girl was often used as a go-between for the Chinese couriers. Approaching them unannounced or without invitation usually resulted in loss of blood or consciousness, but their favorite stripper would know the right things to say, or do, to get him an audience.

  His inside source at the E Pluribus Unum had recounted Jessica’s clandestine return and her surprising credit line. Evidently, the man who’d been on the rooftop—the man who’d made a deal with Jessica and had offered Sebastian a princely sum—knew how to invest his money.

  Still, that man was only an individual. China represented a population of almost two billion, and they desperately needed fusion technology… or better. If Sebastian could strike a deal with them before Jessica did, or that other guy, then riches beyond his wildest dreams awaited him. True, he didn’t have the technical details on fusion to sell, but he did know the approximate location of the alien artifact.

  Alien. He certainly wasn’t going to share that part of the secret with the Chinese—yet. It was only in his panic to save his own skin that he’d blurted it out to the man on the roof. The technology would speak for itself.

  If Jessica declined to cooperate, he would eliminate her. Then he’d hope the man who’d made the purchase from her didn’t want to resell his newly acquired secret. That would leave Sebastian in position to sell the artifact to the highest bidder.

  The stripper thrust a shapely hip at him. She gyrated her best asset to reinforce her demand. He obliged by adding a matching bill to the other side of her single article of clothing.

  “They will see you now,” she said. “Lucky booth number seven.”

  Dark carpet, black paint, and scarce lighting maintained the anonymity of clients coming and going from special dances in private booths. Sebastian knocked timidly on number seven.

  “Enter,” an Asian-accented voice boomed.

  Sebastian stumbled into the cramped room. His eyes adjusted enough to discern that two of the four men sitting on the curved couch had handguns trained on him. Weak overhead lighting shadowed their faces beyond recognition.

  “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you.”

  Not again. This was getting ridiculous. Sebastian couldn’t tell which one said it. Since the two on the ends held the guns, it was likely one of the two in the middle. The boss. Sebastian had acqu
ired a new vest, but that wouldn’t do any good in close quarters if they truly did want to kill him. And he’d had to check his own weapon at the entrance. The fact that these men were allowed to keep theirs confirmed the power they wielded.

  “I have information to sell,” he said.

  “Do not waste our time, Mr. Falstano. Yes, we know who you are. It appears your pretty cohort has already made a sale. Tell us. What did she sell, and what do you have to offer? I warn you. Do not play us the fool.”

  Sebastian swallowed. Their own intelligence network worked as well as his. Still, he knew things they didn’t. “She sold fusion technology. I witnessed the working model before I was released.”

  “Fired,” the man interjected.

  Sebastian ignored the comment; he was determined not to be bullied. “From the secret documents I read, the process is only sustainable in the prototype particle accelerator that houses it. I can get the details and formulas from her.”

  “Why shouldn’t we bury you in the desert and purchase the information directly from her?”

  “There’s an even greater technology being protected at a secret location. She doesn’t know where it is or how it works. I alone know its location. The tech is beyond me—you would have to reverse engineer it yourself, but I have complete faith that the great country of China could achieve such a feat. The person who paid Miss Stafford for fusion offered to buy this technology from me if I could bring it to him. I’m offering to sell it to you, exclusively.”

  The couriers talked rapidly among themselves in Chinese. After some deliberation, the boss stated, “We want both.”

  “One hundred billion dollars,” Sebastian said, prepared to settle for much less if they chose to bargain. He didn’t trust the man on the roof to pay the same; if he really had that kind of money, he should be well known—and he wasn’t. He didn’t even exist as far as Sebastian’s efforts revealed.

  “Done.”

  Too quick. Too easy. Either they thought him stupid, or they didn’t believe he could produce results. “I would like one million up front, in good faith,” he said.

  “Very well then. Choose. One crumpled stripper dollar, or you may leave here alive. You may not have both.”

  Red-faced, Sebastian spun on his heel and left, their laughter chasing him down the darkened hallway.

  Later, when he cooled off, he realized the fact he still lived was a good sign. These couriers had a long history of causing people to disappear. By allowing him to leave unharmed, they had at least offered him a chance to succeed. He knew he could find the location of the artifact. Now all he needed was to strike a deal with Jessica.

  CHAPTER 56

  “Why is it that every time you’re called away, my boat needs emergency maintenance? Coincidence? I think not. What’s your excuse, XO Smith?”

  “Family emergency, sir.”

  “This is a prototype military submarine. They don’t expose it to air for family emergencies. Try again, Smith.”

  “I was called away to be debriefed by my boss.”

  “That’s better. See how much easier it is to be honest? Though it disappoints me to know that I am not your boss. So… Smith… what are our new orders?”

  “We are to make for the southern tip of Madagascar at best possible speed.”

  “Madagascar? That’s on the other side of the planet. It’s going to take us a week to get there. What are we supposed to do when we arrive?”

  “Wait. Listen. And count.”

  The commander shook his head in disbelief. “Fine. You’re never touching my gun again, by the way. Prepare to dive!”

  CHAPTER 57

  Stars and the black of space filled Mykl’s oval window. Jack had accompanied him back to his seat in the main cabin, where he had shown him the intricacies of his flight suit. The reason for its weight was the highly ferrous materials in its construction. Its design assisted movement on the plane during zero-g flight. Tap-zones on his appendages and torso increased or decreased magnetic attraction. With the right balance of magnetic force, he could almost walk normally. It also worked to lock himself into his seat if he didn’t like the floating sensation.

  Before Jack left for his own seat to get some rest, he presented Mykl with a small squeeze bottle.

  “What’s this for?” Mykl asked.

  “It’s so Noah can drink during the trip. Just fill it with water. He knows how to use it.” Jack ruffled Mykl’s hair. “He doesn’t much care for zero g, so he’ll most likely sleep while we’re in transit. But he absolutely loves lunar gravity.”

  Mykl pressed his lips together. “I can’t seem to sneak anything past you. I thought you said I was smart?”

  “I said you have the potential to be. In matters of math and logic, you already are. In matters of life experience, I have over a hundred years on you. Besides, when I went to retrieve Noah for this trip and found his cage empty, I checked the video footage to see where he might be. It looked to me like bringing him along wasn’t entirely your idea.”

  Mykl chuckled and patted Stinker, who was buckled into the seat next to him.

  “There’s a mouse lavatory set up in the bathroom too; you can’t miss it. He’ll let you know when he needs to use it.”

  “How many times has Noah been on this trip?” Mykl asked.

  “A lot. Get some rest. We have at least forty more hours until we touch down.”

  Jack left, and Mykl returned to the stars beyond his window. Even though they were trillions of miles away, they still looked closer from this perspective. Leaning forward in his seat and pressing his face up against the window, he saw that the plane’s wings had folded back to become part of the fuselage. The new non-reflective color of the plane so closely matched the black background that it took the occlusion of stars to discern the wing’s edge.

  Mykl yawned and leaned his seat back. Next stop—the moon.

  CHAPTER 58

  The moment Jessica’s mind released its grip on consciousness, elegant chimes sounded throughout her suite. A low growl of frustration escaped from deep in her throat.

  The video panel showed a sharply dressed waiter standing outside her door, cradling a bottle of wine. She rubbed her tired eyes. She didn’t even like wine. It was an excuse she had made up on the spot because she’d thought it would enhance her persona.

  “Your wine, madam,” the waiter offered, despite her sleepy scowl. “Would you like me to open it for you?”

  “No. Set it on the bar,” she said waspishly. Being interrupted within seconds of entering a blissful nap canceled any need to feign grumpiness.

  He set the wine down and held out a thin pad for her. She hesitated a moment and then understood: of course, a tip. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job, and doing it well. She added one hundred dollars to the staggering wine cost, then, as an afterthought, added another zero before tossing the pad back. To the man’s credit, he didn’t even check the amount. A professional through and through. He bowed to take his leave.

  “Wait,” she said. “Can the chimes be disabled temporarily?”

  “Of course.” He walked her through the suite personalization menus next to the video panel. This side of the world had a long way to go to catch up to the technology of her previous room.

  This time, she proffered him a genuine thank you. Some people were best not to antagonize.

  Standing in the middle of an expanse of polished marble tiles, she pursed her lips. There was no going back to sleep now. And it dawned on her, she had absolutely nothing to wear, apart from what already covered her body. Time to spend some money.

  Her wrist key called the elevator. Inside, only four options illuminated for her selection: Roof, Shop, Casino, and Valet. Which reminded her: Jack had told her to buy a car. Add that to the to-do list.

  She selected “Shop” to begin her spending spree.

  Much to her delight, the elevator opened into a secluded private foyer with canapés and fresh flowers. She stuffed two of the savory mo
rsels into her mouth and nicked a third when a woman entered the foyer from behind a stained-glass door.

  “May I help you, Miss Stafford?” she asked, bowing slightly, her hands clasped at her waist.

  Jessica, her mouth stuffed, found it impossible to speak. She mimed a drink to the woman. A chilled bottle of sparkling water was opened, poured, and offered to her before she finished swallowing.

  “I need clothes,” she said after clearing her palate. “Dresses, shoes, undergarments. You name it.” She modeled her current attire. “This is all I have at the moment. I was… um… caught unprepared for my… vacation.”

  The woman crossed her arms and scrutinized Jessica, tapping a perfectly manicured nail to her lips. “Let’s take some measurements and get started,” she said, producing a cloth tape as if by magic from a tiny pocket at her waist.

  Jessica stood with her arms apart as the woman quickly took note of her dimensions without having to write them down.

  “You choose. I make fit,” the woman said, holding the stained-glass door open.

  Jessica stepped through into a fitting room area which opened into a luxury dress shop. The woman followed as Jessica meandered through the store, saying, “This one, this one, that one, two of these, some of those…”

  The woman never wrote anything down the entire time.

  “I’ll need shoes to match the dresses. Use your best judgment,” Jessica said. Shoe and wine shopping were definitely not in her repertoire. She’d tried to wear high heels once for a high school dance, with embarrassingly disastrous consequences. “Make sure there are a few pairs of flats as well,” she added. “And have everything sent to my suite!”

  “It will be done.” The woman disappeared into a work area and snapped orders to unseen employees.