Anodyne Eyes

by Milt Mays

  “Jabril, There’s a problem here. The password’s been changed.”

  He sneered at her. “You were just in. How stupid do you think I am?”

  He stepped toward her, then stopped and remained aiming the rifle at the hole in the wall, his thin arms trembling with the effort. “The pain you had before was nothing compared to what I will do if you do not open that file. Now!”

  “No. I can’t. I know you’re not stupid. I’m not stupid, either. Why would I jeopardize my daughter and my husband? I never want to feel that pain again.” Yet she wondered if the General would let Jabril change back into the monster.

  Another thought: Overpower Jabril right now.

  She brought her feet under her chair ready to spring up and kick him in the head. “Do you remember the man in the truck outside?”

  Jabril glanced at her. “He was weak. Nothing.”

  “Weak in muscle, maybe. But he’s already saved the U.S. with his mind, at least once that I know of. He saw you with me, put two and two together, figured you were coercing me, and changed the password. So I must get with him. He’s a friend. I can convince him to help.” Or maybe he would become catatonic. He was useless, really, when it came to performing under stress.

  Jabril glanced at her, pensive. “We wait for Alex. Once he is here, you can go.”

  That could never happen. Once they had Alex, it would be all over. Another thought struck her. Alex could read her mind. Jabril had never done so.

  She stood. “Okay. Since you’re going to kill Alex, at least let me have a moment with him.”

  Jabril took a sideways step away from her and the barrel drooped a little. “What makes you think I will kill him?”

  “That’s what you’ve always wanted to do. You hate him.” If she took five or six quick steps, she could land a crunching blow on his chin.

  “You are wrong. My grandmother . . . his parents . . . we are . . . Everyone else is dead.”

  His words froze her. They had a loving, yearning sound to them, his face a tenderness she had never seen. Did he want to be connected to Alex? Was that why he was cooperating with the General, to get closer to Alex? Rachel remembered the weird story Alex had told her, and he too had thought that was why he and Jabril connected so well mentally. Yet Jabril’s words and face told her it was more than mental; it was emotional, deep.

  Never mind that. She had to—

  He glanced at her. “I know not what I am.”

  Through the broken wall, Alex strode into the ranch house. Before she could get the thoughts in her mind for Alex to read, before she even saw him, Jabril had fired.

  After that, everything happened fast. Rachel took a step toward Jabril, all the while watching her husband.

  Alex dodged, but the dart hit him high in the left shoulder. He pawed at it, probably thinking it was a tranquilizer and not wanting to go down. It was too late of course. It had already taken a DNA sample.

  She kept coming at Jabril even as he dropped the rifle and fired the dart pistol. The tranquilizer dart struck Alex in the abdomen.

  She changed her course, forgot about Jabril, and started toward Alex.

  Alex tore the dart from his shoulder and belly, and stopped, looking at Rachel.

  Rachel felt the barrel of a gun on her temple and froze.

  Jabril was holding the M4 barrel to her head. “She will die if either of you move closer.”

  Alex peered at Jabril, twisting his head to the side, squinting at him, looking puzzled, as if Jabril was talking in some unusual tongue. And it was entirely unusual. In the past, Jabril and Alex were able to easily communicate telepathically, so why would Jabril need to talk? Rachel also knew Alex would be puzzled as to why Jabril had used a tranquilizer dart, and not just killed him.

  Alex stumbled back a step, shook his head, blinked twice, widened his eyes, struggled to stay awake.

  Rachel concentrated on her own thoughts trying to push them to Alex: There is a brain probe in Jabril and Alexis. The General is controlling them and wants you next. I need Dan to figure a way out of this. She thought hard, hoping to God that Jabril could not read her thoughts, and that Alex was still coherent enough.

  The barrel of the gun left her temple and she turned to see Jabril better. He had let one hand off the M4 and was touching the metallic disk behind his ear. She could sense that he wanted to get rid of it. He wanted to be free to change form and kill Alex. Or did he?

  He’d said, I know not what I am. Maybe it was the controller forcing him to do these things.

  His hand jerked away, clawed into a fist; his head shuddered, eyes widened. The rifle barrel drifted further from her head.

  She tensed. If she grabbed the gun while Jabril was stunned, she would have him.

  The point of the rifle turned to her face. Jabril’s face was calm, eyes focused, jaw tight.

  Alex slowly sat, cross-legged, yoga-style, hands on knees, eyes closed, pinched frown on his face as if he were using every ounce of concentration to stay awake. His head lolled, jerking up before reaching the end of each downward arch, which lasted longer and longer. A groan came from his lips and he fell sideways, head cracking the hardwood floor like a rock.

  It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d read her thoughts. He would soon be like Alexis. The son of a bitch General and his mutant sidekick were going to torture Alex and she couldn’t do a thing about it.

  The hell she couldn’t.

  She twisted rapidly in the chair and brought a hand up to bat the carbine away. Jabril caught her hand in his and gave her that god-awful smile. “Go get this Dan Trotter. Bring him to me. I will be waiting with Alex and your daughter.”

  Chapter 63

  Dan felt good about his decision as he hopped into the cab of the old pickup. He turned the ignition key. The engine turned over immediately and purred. Alex must have kept the engine in good repair. Dan loved a good mechanic, even if it was on primitive machines. He turned the heater on in the cab. It was getting colder and colder outside; the sleet had changed to a wet snow. The cab smelled of dust and cracked seats that probably held two decades of history in the foam. Snow melted on the windshield. He couldn’t wait to be with Adam in the backyard, laughing and making snow angels. He wanted to kiss Marci, tell her he would never do this shit again. It was beginning to feel way too much like last time, the letdown when he and Sam and the two Cajuns had dragged dead bodies into a funeral pyre. Lisette with the white satin skin, black hair, blue eyes and a rose tattoo on the back of her neck. Recalling the stench of burning bodies made him nauseous. And later he had thought Jeff one of the burning corpses. But Jeff was alive and would stay that way if Dan put the truck in gear and drove away. There was a switch on the dash that read “CPR heater,” probably for the camper. He flipped the switch. Keep them warm back there.

  He looked at the ranch house and the ragged hole in one wall. He thought about Rachel and Alexis and Alex. They were in there with a mutant werewolf and Alex said they might need him. Why would they need him? He couldn’t help them against that beast. All he could do was computer shit. He was worthless against a monster. But he could drive and save his son, maybe Sam.

  He put the truck in gear and pressed the accelerator. The truck moved forward, rolled onto the pavement. He turned onto the road. A noise sounded behind and to the right, from the ranch house. He accelerated. That werewolf guy would have to run real fast.

  He looked in the side mirror. Rachel was running toward the road, cutting him off, waving her right arm in the air and screaming. It was slightly muffled, but he could read her lips. “Dan, stop! Please stop!”

  He craned his neck toward the passenger side, studying behind her, all the way to the ranch house. No one else was coming. He could drive around her. She didn’t even like him.

  He closed his eyes and slowed. What exactly was he willing to do to save his son?

  He should have given her his computer to save her daughter. What kind of a total geek-ass was he?

  He stopped
and put it in park. Maybe she knew something about Jeff or Sam and could help them. Or maybe she needed him. After all, he was from the CIA. He had skills.

  She ran around the front of the truck to his side. He rolled down the window.

  Her face was not happy. “Where the hell were you going?”

  He looked at the snow melting on the windshield. Hexagonal plates and dendritic flakes, each different, parachutes of art floating serenely, not bothered by thinking, emotions, life.

  “Dan! Wake up. I need you. Don’t do that catatonic shit again. Where’s Jeff?”

  He slowly turned his head to her. Her hair was frazzled and stuck out on one side, snow coating it like a white beret. Dark circles hung under eyes that burned into him like lasers, reminding him of the first time he saw the Superman movie. At least they weren’t real lasers. Real lasers would—

  “Dan!”

  “He’s in back with Sam. I gotta take them to get help. They lost blood and they need help. I gotta take—”

  She reached in and slapped him. Her hand was cold. “Stop it. Get your computer and let’s get in the back with them. What’s wrong with Jeff?”

  “He ate some food. Vomited blood. Needs a transfusion. Get in. I’ll drive.” He reached for the gearshift, looked out the windshield for the road.

  She reached into the open window, grabbed his chin in her hand and twisted his head back to her. She blinked at blowing snowflakes. “Damn it, Dan. My baby, my daughter, Alexis, is in there with that monster, Jabril, and she has some kind of brain implant that is making her follow his orders. We have to get into the DOD computer system, find out where General Joseph Hanson has the controls to that thing, and release her. I don’t know how to do that, but I suspect you do.”

  The tears in her eyes reminded him of a distant Louisiana bayou and Lisette.

  “Please. Help me, Dan.”

  “All right.” Jeff would want that. He loved Alexis. If Dan did it fast, maybe he could save both of them. Rachel let go and stepped back. He grabbed the laptop Jeff had given him and got out.

  The wind picked up and snow stung his face. He held the laptop close to his chest. They made it around to the back of the truck and he peered at the ranch house. A curtain of snow blurred it, but there was no one else coming.

  They stepped inside the camper and brushed snow off their shoulders. There was no place to sit, with Sam on the couch and Jeff on the bed. Rachel opened a closet and pulled out two folding chairs, opened them, planted each side by side, and pushed him gently into one. She sat in the other. They faced the bed Jeff was on.

  She put her hands on Jeff, and he grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s okay. I’m only going to move Jeff back further toward the wall. Then you can set the laptop on the bed and we can both see it.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  She gently moved Jeff. He groaned once and turned on his side, facing the camper wall.

  The new laptop had clunky, older software. He’d always had the latest versions, even tweaked them better on his white laptop, the one from the bayou, the one with pictures of Lisette. His fingers stopped moving.

  Rachel hovered over his shoulder. Hard to work that way. He glanced up at her. She did not move, widened her eyes and gave him a face that said, Come on, we don’t have all day.

  It took longer than it should have to get into the website, then to find the area where General Hanson had been controlling Jabril. When Rachel told him about the crypt in D.C., everything simplified. The General, it seemed, was lacking in imagination, at least for the website.

  Chapter 64

  Www.GMO.milJabril worked exactly on Google as Dan hoped. This site had several warnings about being a secure site; no one without authority should enter, etc., etc. It requested the password. He tried a few that did not work, then thought about what the General wanted more than anything:

  A-L-E-X.

  He was in. Strike one for the simpleton general.

  There were several menus under Genetically Modified Organisms:

  A) Jabril

  B) Alex

  C) Ambrosia mice

  D) Ambrosia crops

  E) Other

  Other? Interesting. He put the pointer over Other, then looked at Rachel. She was hunched forward, eyes studying the screen in hopeful anticipation. Jabril had her husband and her daughter. He had no time for exploring Other. Though, Alexis could be in there.

  He moved the mouse, clicked on Jabril, and scrolled down. Mostly boring stuff: a bit of history, body measurements, various samples and links to genetic codes. Nothing really useful. Then he saw a hacker trick he’d also used in the past: a very small blinking comma in the middle of a paragraph. If he hadn’t known to look for something like that, he would have never found it. He hovered the arrow over it, and a link came up. He clicked on it.

  Username? __________

  He typed in H-A-N-S-O-N in all caps, thinking this simple general would hate using the Shift key.

  Password? ___________

  ALEX. Nope.

  JABRIL. Nope.

  Three strikes and the program would likely shut down and warning bells would ring somewhere in DOD. Who was the key to GMO, particularly Jabril and Alex?

  He glanced to his right and typed R-A-C-H-E-L.

  “That’ll never work,” she said.

  But it did. Strike two for the moron general. The screen changed to a simple black circle. Below it were several words with a horizontal line next to them, a minus sign on the left side, a plus side on the right. It read:

  Anger - --|---------------------- +

  Fear- --|---------------------- +

  Joy - ----------|-------------- +

  Sadness - ----------|-------------- +

  Sleep- --|---------------------- +

  It was so simple. Click “Sleep” and move the vertical cursor to the right, and Jabril should sleep. How cool was that?

  He thought about it, looked at Rachel. “This is too easy; don’t you think? Just click on max plus for sleep and Jabril is snoring.”

  She scratched at an eyebrow with two fingers. “I dunno. Look at the passwords. The General probably thought no one would get this far. Pretty sure of himself, not to mention dimly lit in the creative corner. It could be right. Only way to tell is for me to go back in the ranch house with Jabril and have you put him to sleep.”

  She paused. “If it doesn’t work, though?”

  “We’ll need a Plan B.” He looked at her, trying to make his eyes and cheeks squint and match his words. “Maybe we should look at choice E) Other. Maybe it has something about Alexis?”

  She looked at the ranch house wall as if trying to bore through it and see what Jabril was doing inside. She clasped her hands together and twisted them against each other back and forth, back and forth. “Do it. But I’m leaving if we don’t find something fast.”

  He clicked on the back arrow twice and clicked on E) Other.

  The first screen showed multiple tables. He scrolled down through that to the second page. The small square on the right progress bar had moved little down the page. He moved the cursor to the bar and left-clicked on it, then dragged it to the bottom. Forty pages. They didn’t have time to review every page.

  Skip using the cursor. Too slow. He tapped the PgDn button. After each page flashed up, he scanned it, then tapped the button again. The first five pages were tables that had a date on the left upper corner, the first June 01, 2002. Several names followed below on each horizontal row, alphabetically: Anderson, Chapman, Dorian . . . There were also ten columns, each with a label at the top starting with A1, then A2, etc. all the way out to A10. The next table used B1, B2 . . . but had the same names listed on the left side. There were check marks occasionally in some of the boxes, for instance at Chapman under A4, and Dorian under B2.

  He blinked, trying to figure out what this meant.

  “Go to page six,” Rachel said. “We need to move on. In fact, page through them all, only
faster. If Alexis is there, stop. If not—” Her words trailed off.

  He hit the Page Dn button. The next several pages were notes that seemed to explain what each of the codes were about in the first five tables. He wanted to stop and read them, but the name Alexis was not there. He kept scrolling down.

  Page twenty-one was headed by the name Dan Trotter. He stopped. Why would his name be in there? Probably his work on the weed and vermin control. Yet, inside, deep down, he feared his work was once again contributing to this mess and his son’s problems.

  Rachel tapped him on the shoulder. “Can we come back to this?”

  “Sure.”

  He paged down once. Jeff Trotter entitled this page. He stopped and began reading what it said below. How did they know about his son? The first paragraph noted Jeff was alive in 2015, somewhere in Dallas. How did they know that? Why did they not tell Dan?

  “Dan, please.” Rachel laid her warm palm on top of his right hand. But he could not move on. This was about Jeff. Alexis was important to her, true. But this was about Jeff.

  “Please.”

  He sighed through his nose. “Okay.”

  He paged down and there it was on page thirty-two: Alexis Smith.

  But there was a big problem. Three paragraphs only. No black round button. No control panel. Maybe there was another place.

  He paged down through the rest, up again, then back. Nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Rachel. It looks like there are no controls for Alexis’s little brain button.”

  “There has to be. She has one. She’s following commands from someone. It can’t be the foods. She’s being controlled by the Army and Jabril. Don’t you understand? Controlled.” Her voice was angry, but cracking with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes. This was not good.

  He searched the page of notes under Alexis Smith for another small blinking comma. Searched each line twice. Nothing. Goddamn it! Where was it?

  Then he thought about Rachel’s words. “What do you mean, ‘It can’t be the foods.’ Did she eat some of those GMO foods?”