by Gini Koch
“I’m your son!”
“Yes. Yes, you are. Which is why I’d prefer it if Kitty not kill you.”
“You’d prefer it?” Kozlow sounded shocked and pissed both. “So if she kills me, what? You’ll be a little sad and then move on?”
There was another pause. “Russell, during all the time you were not in prison, how often did you call me or visit me?”
“We were both busy. You said you understood!”
“Parents say that but they’re lying,” I shared. “Trust me on that one.”
“Mother, I need your help!”
Chernobog heaved a sigh. “I’m sure you do. I helped you recently. My price for participation with that lunatic Goodman’s plans was your freedom from the Israelis, which set up a chain of events that culminated in a hit being put on my head and assigned to the best assassin in the world. And you didn’t call me then, did you? You were out, working for the same people I was. You had time. But nothing. Kitty is a better daughter to me than you were a son, and she’s not even trying to be. But I live with her, in a lovely suite, surrounded with luxury, working with people who admire me, given anything I want.”
“Other than your freedom,” I felt the need to point out. “Not that we don’t trust you by now. And, no offense, but I kind of think of you as more of a grandmother en residence.”
She snorted. “I’m ‘dead,’ remember? There is nothing more freeing and there is also no need to leave the building. Everything I want is here, and if I lack something, I contact Pierre, who gets it for me. And grandmother is perfectly acceptable. You’re a good granddaughter, is what I’m telling my ungrateful son.”
“They’re all squatters,” Jeff muttered. “Even her. Especially her.”
“You . . . you’re protecting my mother?” Kozlow asked, sounding even more shocked, if such were possible. “She’s part of your family?”
“She’s the only reason I’m alive,” Chernobog snapped. “She brokered the deal with the Dingo to fake my death. Not you, Russell, her. So if she chooses to kill you, Russell, then I will have to mourn you. As I do every day, since you never call and you never write.”
“Ah, in Russell’s defense, he’d thought you were dead. Seriously, I’d thought you’d have told him you were alive somehow.”
“Olga is here and wishes me to share that you tend to be far too sentimental. It’s a failing. We both love you for it, but still.”
“You love her?” Kozlow sounded ready to freak out or cry or both. Probably both.
“Figure of speech,” I said quickly. “Okay, Boggy, good to know where you stand and all that. Does Stryker need me or were you just assuming that I’d have tried him first because I’ve known him longest and consider him the leader of the hacker pack, so to speak?”
“No, I assumed you’d try him first because you appear to really enjoy baiting him.”
“That’s me all the way, honestly. So, intel, yea or nay?”
“Yea. He has news on the alien landing sites you asked him to research. Shall I put him on now?”
“Um, sure. Either Russell’s going into custody or into the morgue, so we can share whatever within his hearing.” Waited while the phone changed hands. Heard a lot of bickering in the background. Yep, Chernobog was in the Zoo’s Computer Lab.
“Kitty, you really have Chernobog’s son?” Stryker asked by way of hello.
“I do. Say hello, Russell.”
“Hello, who are you? My mother’s new son?” Asked with extreme bitterness.
“Well, I think she thinks of me more as a nephew,” Stryker said rather proudly. “Yuri, though, yeah, Yuri’s definitely scoring the son treatment. I think it’s because he’s Russian and that makes her more susceptible to the charm he claims to possess.”
“Proud of you for not saying that it’s because he’s blind, Stryker. That’s some personal growth, that is.”
“She says he’s a better hacker because he can’t see.” Heard voices. “Oh, Big George, Ravi, and Henry all say that Chernobog thinks of them as nephews, too. But she likes me best of you guys.” More voices, many raised. “No, we’re not all equal to anyone. I’m Kitty’s favorite, too, in case you aren’t aware. I’ve known her longer than anyone around other than Chuck and Amy. And I’m still Chuck’s go-to man, and don’t the rest of you forget it!”
“Stryker! Focus, dude.”
“Huh? Oh, right. But anyway, we have a ton to tell you about all the alien landing sites, but Ravi says that since his wife is in the Middle East, right in the middle of one of the triangles we should focus on that one.”
“I’m one with Ravi on this thought. What about this one? The triangle points are three impressive buildings, two of which are quite old. Why so?”
“Builders were drawn to those locations, we’re sure. They’re over places where we have known Z’porrah power cube rooms. Same with every other triangle we could find. All points of the triangles have a Z’porrah power cube room under them.”
“Interesting, especially since almost none of the spaceships we’ve seen so far are triangular, the Z’porrah’s in particular. Any relevance for averting the end of the world as we know it?”
“Doubt it. But there’s also a power cube room under the Persian Gulf, nearish to Kharg Island. I think it’s connected to whatever the Treeship is going to land in or on in a few hours.”
“Super, something to mull over in the downtime I don’t have. Anything else?”
“Nope, other than that I think Chernobog would appreciate it a little more than she’s saying if you wouldn’t kill her son.” Heard voices in the background again. “Nope, sorry. She says that it’s up to you, a hundred percent. She just appreciates that you called to check with her first. Unlike some people. And that’s a direct quote.”
“Gotcha. Love to all, be home soon. I sincerely hope.”
Reader hung up. My music turned right back on, yay technology. Now I was listening to “Flip, Flop And Fly” by Indigo Swing. Presumed this was a hint and/or encouragement.
“So, Russell, your mother is not on your side at this precise time.”
“Because you’ve stolen her from me.” He sounded jealous and defeated and more than a little sad.
It was stupid, because he was a killer—the Israelis hadn’t had him locked up for stealing lollipops, after all—and he’d helped kill a lot of my friends and family. And yet, I felt sorry for him. If someone had me at gunpoint and was asking my mother what she wanted them to do, it would crush my heart if she’d said what Chernobog had. My mother would have said to let me live. No, my mother would have offered to take my place. Demanded to take my place. Begged, even, depending on the situation. And my mother didn’t beg. But if I were in this situation, she might, if she thought it was the only way. Because she loved me.
Pulled the gun away from his head. He gaped at me. Heard Jeff grunt in a very annoyed way that I was, due to being me, very familiar with. Shrugged. “Dude, I can kill you any time, and my arm’s tired. Plus, I have a bunch of men with me who will be more than happy to kill you if I don’t feel like it.”
“So, what are you waiting for?” he asked in a low voice.
“Honestly?”
“I’m dying to hear what it is, myself,” Jeff said, sarcasm knob at eleven and threatening to go for twelve.
“Many things, really. But, first off, I want my friends out of suspended animation.”
“Not Butler!” Christopher shouted.
“Um, okay, why not?”
“I think it’s all that’s keeping him alive.”
CHAPTER 81
LET THAT SIT on the air for a moment. “Mind explaining?”
“Yeah.” Christopher came over to where I was. So did the other guys. Meaning Kozlow was surrounded. Therefore, I could look at Christopher. It was nice to move my neck. “I took a hit when I touched the doorkno
b and woke up just like you found me. The others arrived pretty much as I was coming to.”
“Why were all three of them zapped? Only takes one to open the door.”
“They were all holding hands,” Kozlow said. “The current traveled. The A-C and the human, they just dropped. But the other one . . . he’s an android, right?”
“Yeah, he is.”
“I hadn’t intended to use suspended animation, but he was shorting out, herking and jerking everywhere. So, I gave it a try to see if I could get him to stop short-circuiting. It seemed to help. So, I put the others in suspended animation, too. In part so Nerida couldn’t tie them up to more equipment. One set up that way was more than enough.”
“So, let me be sure I understand this, but you did what you could to save the android?” He nodded. “Why?”
He eyed Jeff. “I’d lie, but why bother? The boss wants hostages, and an android is a great addition to any crew. I figured if things went badly, I could offer him to Mister Gadhavi.”
Jeff was growling. “How noble.”
“Look, I’m not on your side, okay? Stop acting like this is some sort of surprise, that I might not be doing everything for altruistic reasons.” He shot me a look similar to the ones I’d given him when talking about Nerida as “Another Version Of The Truth” by Nine Inch Nails came on my airwaves. “Is it only clear to you?”
“Potentially. Let’s wake up the human and the A-C and make sure they’re feeling extremely well. If they’re not, we’ll need Tito to gate it over here faster than fast.”
“I already have him ready and waiting,” Tim said.
“I need to stand up,” Kozlow said. “I need to concentrate to not release all three of them at once.”
We let him stand and moved en masse with him as he stepped over to the bodies. It was clear he was concentrating. Jeremy lowered to the ground and the glow around him disappeared. His eyes fluttered, then opened. “Where am I?”
Jeff helped him up. “Who am I?”
“Ah, the President? Jeff Martini? Don’t you remember?” Jeremy sounded worried.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him.
“Like I’ve been trampled by elephants. What happened?”
“Tell you in a minute. Russell, well done. On to the next.”
Kozlow concentrated again and Buchanan was lowered. The glow left him. But his eyes didn’t flutter. “Time for CPR?” Jeff asked worriedly. Kozlow stepped closer and Jeff stepped in front of him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“I think he might need more than CPR.” He looked at me. “I’m clear I die if he does.”
I nodded. “Give him his chance.”
Kozlow knelt down and put his hands on Buchanan’s chest, in the same places a doctor would put the defibrillators. The way Buchanan’s body bucked it was clear that Kozlow was acting as a human defibrillator, too.
But it worked. Buchanan coughed and opened his eyes. “What the hell?” He grabbed Kozlow by the neck. Siler pried Buchanan’s hand off and I pulled Kozlow out of the way. “Let me at him,” Buchanan growled.
“It’s okay,” Siler said soothingly. “We’re in control of the situation.”
“Malcolm, he just saved your life.”
“After almost killing us? I think, at any rate.” Siler and Jeff helped Buchanan up. He looked around. “Damn it. We got hit with electric current, didn’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“How’s Butler?”
“As to that . . . Russell, how long can you keep him in suspended animation and what’s your range?”
“I can keep him like that as long as I’m conscious, but my range isn’t far.”
“Call Dulce, we need a crash team here that can deal with John’s situation. Not sure that’s Tito.”
“It’s not,” Tim said. “But I have that team standing by, too, and I’ve described the situation. When do you want them?”
“Russell, any issues with us using a gate of our own?”
“No. I’m the only one who can prevent it. And I won’t,” he added quickly.
“Smart man. Tim, right about now would be peachy, then.”
A floater gate appeared and a set of Dazzlers with a gurney exited. There was just enough room for them in this area, but only just. Christopher and Jeff each took hold of one of Kozlow’s arms.
The gurney had a metal pod-coffin-type thing on it, one with the top half of the lid made of glass, so you could see the head and torso of whoever was inside. It was blinking in various places on the inside as well. Hadn’t seen something like this before, but assumed it had been created for Butler and probably our other in-control android, Mrs. Maurer’s son, Cameron.
“We need to get him into the containment pod,” the Head Dazzler said to Reader. Who looked at Kozlow.
“I can concentrate better when two big guys aren’t trying to rip my arms off.”
My music changed to Billy Joel’s “A Matter of Trust.” “Let him go,” I said. Jeff and Christopher both shot me suspicious and worried looks, but they did let go.
Kozlow stepped forward. “Thanks.” His brow furrowed and Butler lifted up slowly. The Dazzler opened the pod’s lid. It totally made the swooshing sound I was expecting, too.
Kozlow lowered Butler into the pod. “Take him out now or wait?” he asked the Head Dazzler.
“Wait, if you can.”
“Not sure if the pod will block me, but I’ll do my best.”
She closed the lid. Could tell that the suspended animation thing was still going on. The Dazzlers hit some sleek buttons on the outer part of the pod. “Now, please,” the Head Dazzler said.
Kozlow nodded and the suspended animation went away. Held my breath as the lights inside the pod started blinking at a furious rate.
“If he dies . . .” Jeff growled.
“I know, I know,” Kozlow said. “I die. Got it. Look I’m still concentrating, okay?”
“On what?” Reader asked him.
“On helping.”
Could tell that most of the guys wanted to make a sarcastic remark of some kind, but Kozlow was ignoring them, and I could tell he was focused. Finally, the lights stopped flashing frantically and started going on and off in unison, and at a much slower rate. They seemed timed like breaths, lighting up when breathing in, fading out when exhaling.
The Dazzlers all relaxed. “Thank you,” the Head Dazzler said to Kozlow. “He needed the extra boost.”
“Will John be okay?” I asked.
She nodded. “We have to get him home and rebooted. But he should be himself soon.”
“If any of his circuits,” pointed to Kozlow, “will be useful, he’ll gladly donate them.”
This earned me a dirty look from Kozlow, chuckles from the four human guys, and blank looks from the A-Cs. “Ah, thank you,” the Head Dazzler said, sounding confused. “We’ll let you know.”
“Check these two,” Jeff indicated Buchanan and Jeremy, “before you go. Electric shock.”
“Christopher, too. He was not only electric shocked but soaking in water for far too long.”
The Dazzlers checked them all over, including using an OVS, which, under the circumstances, was wise. Once all three guys were given a reasonably clean bill of health, and they sprayed something on Christopher’s feet and lower legs to presumably get him de-pruned, the Dazzlers took their android patient back through the floater gate, which then shimmered out of view.
My music changed to “Opportunities (Let’s Make Lots of Money)” by the Pet Shop Boys, proving that Algar and I were on the same wavelength.
“Well, that was fun, and I’m hella relieved that John’s going to be okay. Speaking of which . . . Russell, I have a question for you, keeping in mind that all that’s gone on with John, Malcolm, and Jeremy just now merely means I don’t kill you ugly and leave you for t
he maintenance crew to clean up.”
“Okay.”
“What do you think you can give me that would make me not want to kill you at all?”
“Huh?”
“Okay, it’s more of a riddle. What would you think I’d want?”
Saw what I hoped was the light dawn for Kozlow. “What will you give me if I tell you? Going back to the supermax under the Pentagon isn’t going to make me want to give you anything.”
“It would mean you’re still alive.”
“It would mean they give me back to Israel, because with what I assume you want, I won’t have any value left. They’ll get what they can out of me about G-Company, and then I’ll be tossed back to Mossad to be their new chew toy. If that’s what you’re offering, I’ll choose you shooting me in the head right now.”
“Oh my God,” Christopher muttered, “this guy speaks Kitty.”
“He might, he might indeed. Tell you what, Russell. You give me what you think I want to know, and if it’s what I do want, then I’ll tell you what’s behind Door Number Three. Could be an all expenses paid trip to a luxury prison, or it could be death. Time to play Let’s Make a Deal.”
CHAPTER 82
EVERYONE WAS QUIET. Kozlow took a deep breath. “You want to know where Cliff is and what he’s planning to do.”
“I do, I do indeed. I want more than that, though. I want to know all of his hideouts, where he’s got his doomsday stuff ready to go off if he doesn’t check in or whatever, how many G-Company troops he’s controlling, and if he has any other close lackeys beyond the three I can think of, which are Casey Jones, LaRue or whatever that clone is calling herself, and Leventhal Reid.” Managed not to shudder when I mentioned Reid’s name, but it took effort.
“He has Darryl and Nigel, too.”
Coughed. “Um, how to put this? Not anymore.”
Kozlow’s eyes widened. “You guys killed them?”
Stepped closer to him. “No, Russell. I killed them. And all of Darryl’s clones, too. Just like I killed Nerida. Just like I’m going to kill Casey, LaRue, Reid, and Cliff, not necessarily in that order. Like I’ll kill you, if you don’t manage to secure the best prize I’m offering.”