Hybrid (Brier Hospital Series Book 7)

by Lawrence Gold

  Zack’s family and friends were watching the demonstration.

  Denise and Gabe, though used to Zack’s abilities, were alarmed with the group’s reaction. Gabe stepped between Zack and the group. “I’m not quite sure what’s going on here, but I’m sure I don’t like it.”

  Zeru stepped forward and introduced herself. “I’m Professor Zeru Ibarra, and I know Zack well through teaching him Basque, and through his work at the Lawrence Hall of Science.”

  “Dr. Ibarra,” Denise exclaimed, “It's so nice to finally meet you. Zack has said many complimentary things about you.”

  Zeru smiled. “I can’t minimize a compliment, but you know Zack, he rarely says anything critical of another. It's one of the reasons we all love him.”

  Gabe offered Zeru his hand. “Well, anyone that’s a friend of Zack is a friend of ours.”

  Denise studied Zeru for a long moment. “I’m guessing that your friends here have expertise in computer science, but as I recall, Zack said that you’re a professor of evolutionary biology. What’s the fit?”

  “It's the newest fad,” Gabe said, “mixing multiple and often unrelated disciplines to stir productivity. Most of our major high-tech firms do it, and we do it, too, at Cal.”

  “Do you work at Cal?” Denise asked.

  “Yes, and part-time at Denisovan Laboratories in Emeryville. I work for Jorge Moneo. You know him, of course.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Zeru took a deep breath and continued. “Let me return to the subject at hand. Don’t be alarmed by this group’s reaction. I’m so sorry, but that was a spectacular demonstration that your son performed. May we as a group, have a moment of your time in private, Mr. and Mrs. Berg?”

  After Gabe nodded, they walked to the playground area. The General surveyed the area to insure they’d be unheard.

  The General stood before his cohorts. “Your remarkable son has strayed, inadvertently I’m sure, into areas of national security.”

  “National security?” Denise asked. “What in hell does this mean and what do you want from us?”

  “It means,” Zeru said, “that they want Zack to work for them.”

  “You guys are out of your minds,” Denise said. “He’s an eleventh grader, and under no circumstance will we permit him to work for anyone.”

  Zeru nodded at the group and then lead Denise and Gabe away. “Perhaps you don’t really understand what they’re proposing? They’re offering Zack an opportunity to develop his skills in a way that’s not possible elsewhere. Moreover, your son will have the chance to serve his country.”

  Denise laughed. “Okay—okay. Where’s the camera. We’re being punked, right?”

  “I assure you, Mrs. Berg, that they’re deadly serious.” Zeru paused and looked around. She turned to Denise. “If you feel that any part of this situation offends you, or compromises Zack, I may have an alternative proposal for you.”

  Denise stood, turned away from Zeru, grabbed Gabe’s hand, and said. “I’ll tell you where they can shove that national security bullshit. I don’t want any one of them to come within a mile of our son. ”

  When they were ready to leave, Denise asked, “When will we find out who won the science fair?”

  “They’ll announce the winners in two weeks. Not to worry, Mother, I’m a shoe in.”

  “Zack! So much for modesty,” Denise said.

  “I’m just kidding, Mother.”

  As soon as they dropped off Ella and Adam, Zack asked, “What was all that attention about?”

  “We knew that sooner or later, people would notice your talents.” Gabe said. “That was, perhaps, one of the first steps.”

  “I wish that I had the chance to show them my hacking program,” Zack said. “They’d flip.”

  Gabe shook his head. “Hacking may be a fascinating exercise for you, Zack, but it’s unethical and dangerous. You could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “You don’t get it, Dad. I have no desire to hack, but those people, the government, security agencies, and businesses need to know what they’re facing. I just wanted to help them.”

  “Wait until they ask you, Zack,” Gabe said, “or they can easily misconstrue your intentions.”

  “I know that you and mother want to protect me,” Zack said, “but there’s protection, and there’s smothering. I don’t think the latter is really necessary.”

  “Nobody’s smothering you, Zack,” Gabe said, “so cut out the melodrama.”

  “What did they want?” Zack asked.

  “They offered to help you, Zack.”

  Zack thought for a moment, and then said, “I remember what Ronald Regan said about that: The nine most terrifying words in the English language are: 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.'"

  “Well, more than that,” Gabe said. “They want you to help them.”

  “They have a government basketball team—they’re drafting me as a point guard?”

  Gabe put his arm over Zack’s shoulder. “May I ask a favor?”

  “You don’t need to ask for favors, Dad.”

  “Let’s just talk,” Gabe said. “We’ll meet them again, especially Zeru, and talk. Nothing gained, nothing lost.”

  “I’m not quite sure about Zeru’s role,” Denise said as she walked to the lady’s room.

  Gabe faced Zack. “Remember that she works with Jorge Moneo at the Denisovan Laboratories, the Science and Technology division in Emeryville. Her office door reads, Evolutionary Biology and Scientific Advancement Technologies. Obviously, Jorge is into more than teaching gifted children.”

  “Okay,” Zack said, “but we should warn them that if they’re interested in me, first they’ve got to get past your wife. That ain’t going to be easy.”

  “It's not my wife, Zack, it's your mother.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ella and Zack were having lunch at Piedmont High School’s athletic field sidelines under the shade of a large Oak tree.

  “Your Science Fair win was in all the papers,” she said. “You’re a celebrity.”

  “I’d rather be a success than a celebrity.”

  “You may get both, but first, you must learn to accept a compliment. Have you?”

  Zack ignored her question, taking a bite from his sandwich.

  Ella looked into Zack’s eyes. She hesitated, and then said, “I need your help with my girl friend, Heather.”

  “She’s trouble. What’s she into now? I can’t see how you’ve managed to remain friends with her. She’s so completely different.”

  “Old friendships die hard. You, of all people, should know that.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “She’s deep in debt to the school’s pot dealer, and she doesn’t have the cash.”

  “She needs money? How much does she owe them?”

  Ella hesitated. “It's a lot.”

  “How much?”

  “She owes them $2500. They’re going to hurt her if she doesn’t pay.”

  Zack scratched his head. “$2500 is a lot of money…she couldn’t be smoking that much. She must have been…”

  “Dealing…yes, she was dealing to support her own purchases.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money,” Zack said. “She needs to go to her parents.”

  “They’ll kill her.”

  “They won’t kill her,” Zack said. “She did the deed, now she must accept the consequences.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Zack Berg I know and love. Where’s your compassion?”

  “She’s your friend, but yet she felt comfortable involving you. The right approach, the compassionate approach, and the one that’s likely to resolve the situation is to involve her parents.”

  “She won’t.” Ella paused. “I’m afraid that she’ll do something stupid—dangerous. Please, Zack, talk with them—make a deal or whatever.”

  “I know these guys, Ella. They’re not going to listen to reason. They have something to prove, and they
trade on intimidation.”

  Ella grasped Zack’s hand. “Please…”

  “Maybe I’ll bring Adam along.”

  “You don’t need Adam, but, if that’s what it takes, go for it.”

  Zack and Adam found them behind the football field bleachers. They looked like clones of each other with baggy wide-legged jeans that sagged below the waist, and bright white t-shirts. The leader was Jose Rios, a small man from El Salvador. A group of eight men stood behind Rios glaring at Zack and Adam.

  Jose pointed at Zack and Adam, and laughed. “A couple of preppies. You guys lost or something?”

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Zack said. “We want to help you resolve the situation with Heather.”

  “That bitch sent you. I’m going to kick the shit out of her.”

  “No, you’re not,” Adam said. “You’re a business man, and I don’t think you want to screw the pooch.”

  “Okay. Have her bring the cash, and we’re done.”

  Zack shook his head. “She doesn’t have it. Maybe we can make an arrangement?”

  “Fuck her, and fuck you, too.” He stepped forward and swung at Zack.

  When Zack ducked and delivered a blow to Jose’s abdomen, the small man crumpled to the ground holding his belly and gasping for breath. When the gang moved forward, Adam assumed the fighting position.

  “You’re making a big mistake,” Zack said, as he turned to face them.

  Soon, they were on Zack and Adam. After a brief flurry of fighting, the gang members were on the ground nursing a variety of wounds.

  Jose, still on the ground, glowered at Zack. “You’re a dead man. A fucking dead man.”

  When Adam approached Jose, Zack held him back. “He’s had enough. Leave him alone.”

  “Punks like this piece of shit gotta learn the hard way,” Adam said as sidestepped Zack and kicked Jose in the face, knocking him unconscious.

  Zack pulled Adam away as he was preparing to deliver another kick. “Enough, Adam. You’re going to kill him.”

  Adam stared at Zack, gazed down at Jose, smiled and then stepped away. “He’s not going to be a problem again.” He looked over the gang. “You guys got off easy this time. Next time, we won’t be so kind.”

  As they walked away, Zack turned to Adam. “You overdid it, a bit. That last shot wasn’t necessary.”

  “Let’s agree to disagree on this one. If I get into it with those pieces of shit, I’m going to fight to win and leave a lasting impression.”

  “You certainly did that, Adam.”

  Adam grabbed Zack by the arm. “All this excitement makes me thirsty. Let me buy you a beer—oh, I mean a milkshake.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The day after the confrontation with the school’s pot dealers, Ella joined Zack on a bench outside the school. “You and Adam will have Heather’s eternal gratitude. What exactly happened?”

  “We reasoned with them, and they simply agreed.”

  “Right,” she said.

  Zack shook his head. “I’m glad for Heather, but violent confrontation is the wrong way to solve problems.”

  “So you could have resolved this in some other way?”

  “Sometimes I feel that you’re too grounded, Ella. Everything’s logical.”

  She smiled. “You’d prefer glib, thoughtless, and banal?”

  “Right, but good words—see, you’ve been hanging around with me too long.” Zack paused. “I couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t have made things worse for Heather. Like all bullies, they only respond to overwhelming power and painful violence, but I’m not comfortable being the agent of such activities.”

  “That’s what my Dad calls the Ostrich approach to life.” Ella said. “You care about people, yet you resist helping or getting involved.”

  “That’s not fair, Ella. I’m willing to help in many ways, but violence isn’t one of them. I only acted in self defense.”

  “I understand, and you can get away with that 99 percent of the time, but…”

  “I know. I just don’t like it.” Zack paused. “Adam and I are like brothers in so many ways, but I think he actually enjoyed the confrontation, especially the brutality.”

  She stared at Zack. “I don’t see it. Maybe you’re getting him wrong? You two are so close; why don’t you talk it over with him?”

  After Saturday class, Zack sat with Adam. They’d gotten out early and were waiting for their rides.

  “Heather wanted to thank us, Adam.”

  “T’was nothing,” Adam said.

  “Not for her, it wasn’t.” Zack stared at Adam. “If it's okay, I’d like to talk more about it?”

  “You can talk to me about anything, but I don’t know what the big deal is.”

  “We’re so much alike,” Adam said, “but you got off on the violence. You even seemed to relish their pain.”

  “At this risk of alienating a friend, Zack, I did enjoy it. I think that there’s something primal in righting a wrong, helping a friend, and seeing the bad guys punished. While that takes me off the shortlist for sainthood, I still smile as I remember that they got what they deserved. Didn’t you feel that at all?”

  Zack looked up in thought. “It's not pleasure…maybe relief is a better word.”

  “Maybe your sainthood is in jeopardy, too.”

  “We’re all a little strange,” Zack said, “don’t you think?”

  “You mean us or the class as a whole?”

  “Perhaps Basques are different.” Zack studied Adam. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you, but…”

  “But, what?”

  “This group is physically and intellectually extraordinary,” Zack said. “I know that’s because we’re all ‘gifted,’ but I think there may be more. It's as if we’re being programmed for something.”

  “Like what?”

  Zack shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Along with your brilliance, Zack, comes a fantastic imagination.”

  Zack again studied Adam. “Have you ever…?”

  “Ever what?”

  “Did you play hide-n-seek as a kid?”

  “Yes. It was boring.”

  Zack studied Adam. “Nobody could hide from me. I always knew where they were. Moreover, I’m never surprised…I know what’s on people’s minds.”

  “Mindreading?”

  “I don’t know, Adam. Maybe it’s something like ESP. You’ve never experience that?”

  Adam thought for a moment and then said, “I’d say something akin to a heightened talent at perception, you know like fortune-tellers. They specialize in cold reading. They extract information by carefully evaluating all that they see, appearance, dress, speech, body language, and reactions to their probing.”

  Zack shook his head. “Still, I’m uncomfortable.”

  “Just because I got pissed off at those pathetic thugs?”

  “I dunno…maybe I should talk to Denise about it? She is a shrink after all.”

  “Mistake, Zack,” Adam said. “A big mistake. I sense that she’s a bit freaky about the Denisovan School anyway. Let’s not stoke the fire.”

  Zack thought for a moment, and then said, “I’m used to sharing these problems with her. Now, I’m hiding them.”

  “You know your mother,” Adam said. “I’m guessing that she’s going to want to intervene…to fix things. That would be a terrible idea.” He paused. “I’m kinda jealous of you. Sometimes, I wish my mother cared as much.”

  Chapter Forty

  When Zack got home after Saturday class in Emeryville, he walked into the kitchen and slammed his books on the table.

  Gabe looked up from his San Francisco Chronicle. “What’s that all about?”

  “Maybe the Denisovan School isn’t such a great idea.”

  “What’s wrong?” Denise asked as she stepped into the room.

  “The school’s great, but they just don’t know when to stop.”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea w
hat you’re talking about, Zack,” Gabe said.

  Zack sat at the table. He looked from Gabe to Denise. “Doctor Alonzo has decided to add debates to the curriculum, but I suspect that it's Jorge’s doing.”

  “Debates can facilitate the in depth understanding of any subject,” Gabe said. “I enjoyed my time on the debating team at Harvard.”

  Denise stared at Zack. “What’s the problem?”

  “It's the subject matter. Doctor Alonzo wants me to take the pro side of the motion: Terrorism Can Be Justified.”

  Denise’s eyes widened. “That’s awful.”

  Gabe shook his head. “They’re not framing this debate in the context of the Basque struggle for independence, are they?”

  “No,” Zack, “it's generic. I think that’s deliberate since the sympathies of the school are clear.”

  “I don’t see the problem, Zack,” Gabe said. “Taking the side in opposition to your own views forces you to rethink the issues and understand them in greater depth.”

  Zack reddened. “You want me to justify the slaughter of innocents? I’m a smart guy…I can probably do that.”

  “Excuse me, Zack,” Gabe said, “but don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “But,” Zack said, “if you justify terrorism, you support wholesale murder.”

  “Zack,” Denise said, “you know that’s not what your father is saying.”

  Gabe studied Zack. “In spite of your brilliance, I can see the wisdom of this assignment.” He paused. “You’re not saying that terrorists don’t have legitimate grievances, are you?”

  “Nothing that justifies terrorism.”

  “So Zack, you’re a pacifist? You wouldn’t resort to violence to protect your mother or Ella. How would you feel if your loved ones were murdered? What would you do about it?”

  “No, I’m not a pacifist.” Zack paused in deep thought.

  “At times,” Gabe said, “especially in extreme cases when peaceful and democratic means have been exhausted, there remains only two choices: submit or fight.”