by Scott Rhine
By the end of the third day, they had a list of rights similar to those she had discussed with the envoy over chess. The group had added definitions and conditions. They agreed that certain rights were not granted to a human until they reached maturity, but left the exact list to the colonies. Some rights, particularly those with regard to free movement or weapons, could be revoked by a higher authority using due process.
Jez spent a great deal of time combining and simplifying the work of others. When they seemed to solve something too easily, she asked more difficult questions. “When you need every person in a space colony, how do you punish people? The Inuit have work-release where the offender just sleeps in the jail.”
Tom and Vader liked the notion of a tiered society where citizens had the most rights and even walled-off living areas. “Citizenship has to be earned; you can’t be born into it. Any infraction can get you kicked out for a fixed amount of time, or permanently.”
“So criminals train your children?” Jez asked.
“All children get the same education from safe providers, but once they graduate, we would throw them into the real world,” Vader clarified.
“What about killers and kidnappers, or the permanently disenfranchised? What’s to stop them from taking revenge on the young adults?”
Tom said, “We add another layer, the untouchables and outcasts, walled off from the masses.”
“Given their violent nature, what’s to stop outcasts from assembling weapons and punching a hole in everyone else’s air supply? If we have to guard against threats like that, it makes the whole colony too expensive.”
When the others were silent, Jez turned to the swami and asked, “You haven’t said anything in a while. What do you think?”
The Indian mused for a moment, then said, “I think it highly interesting that you are unable to conceive of an ideal Heaven that does not also require a corresponding Hell.”
On that note, they broke for lunch.
Over heavily-spiced noodles, fixed by the swami’s wife, Jez raised another issue. “The real problem I see for us is the concept of the corporation or government, what I call the meta-human. They have no accountability or morals, yet can wreck a world. We need to fix this before we will be allowed to leave our world.”
“Allowed?” asked the swami.
“Worthy of,” said Vader, covering for Jez.
“Why is that ours to judge?” asked the swami.
Tom explained, “Because this company will be the gateway to the stars. It is our job to make certain the humans who enter space behave morally. Given our race’s history, we can see that companies and governments are notorious offenders. However, we have no way to punish them short of military invasion or disbanding. This doesn’t work. It’s always the other guy, someone else ordered me to. The accountant didn’t tell me all the facts.”
The doctor snorted. “It wasn’t my job. All metas care about are self-growth and preservation.”
“Greed doesn’t think ahead,” Tom noted. “We can’t legislate everything, but without a proper foundation, the building will collapse.”
“Then one must redefine the fundamental structure of a corporation, and build a conscience from the beginning,” the swami said.
“Excellent,” Jez said, waving her fork like a baton. “Details.”
While they debated, she quenched the curry fire with a drink. Benny was standing outside, watching her work. Seeing his gaze, she wiped a spot of sauce off her chin and checked her lab coat for stains. He motioned her outside.
When she closed the door behind herself, he said, “Nice lab coat. Is this part of the rocket-scientist chic?”
She smiled. “It gives me a place to hang my badge, put extra pens, and makes me look managerial. I wore my plain, black pumps with no hose to complete the outfit. Why the long face?”
“We have a last-minute change of plans. Whirlwind won’t meet with men. They threaten him. I’m going to cancel.”
“Whoa. No problem; we just trade missions. You know I can wrap just about any guy around my little finger. Plus, I’ve been working out with black belts every day. I can handle myself for one meeting.”
Benny looked down. “The bastards said you’d volunteer. I can stop by tonight to talk you through it. Oobie will be your backup.”
Gears turned as she processed implications. “Oh… if we’re taking the bus all the way to Arkansas, we’ll have to leave soon. I’ll need data links to talk to my think tank. No, they have to be with me for the group mind.”
“The swami isn’t cleared.”
“Blast, this puts a kink in a lot of plans. Can the doctor go along? I only have him for a couple more days. He could be handy dealing with Seth, and we could train him to monitor Oobie. He might have suggestions there. I have a lot to do before leaving this evening. I’ll need to pack, get body armor, and leave my butterfly in the safe. We can’t risk that in the field. You could brief me over dinner.”
“Don’t forget the extra communications gear.” Benny squinted at her. “You’re too cheerful. Are you planning something sneaky?”
“Yes, but not against you. Can you order in and then call me before you pick it up at the desk? It’ll help my schedule.”
“Sure.”
He conspicuously did not press for more information, which she appreciated. Jez gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ve gotta run.”
She broke the news to her extended team and then took Dr. Weiss aside privately. “How’d you like a chance to share some of those famous, Texas food places with us this weekend?”
“I’ll bite,” he said with a smile. “What are you really asking?”
“I hate being this transparent. I need you to do something dangerous for me. Have you ever killed anyone?”
****
When Benny called her, Jez ducked into his office and opened his safe. She placed the butterfly on top, as promised. However, she used the time alone to seize the bottom of the Ethical Geometry page. As before, there was the feeling of electrical current coursing through the material. But this time, the sensation was not as overpowering. Concentrating, she tore off the bottom paragraph. The weave parted like a micro-zipper. She tucked the remainder back onto the shelf.
Now, where could she hide the two-inch strip? She wouldn’t be wearing the lab coat for the mission and might not get another moment alone before then. She peeled back the tape on top of her arm gauze. Folding the strip, she tucked it into the tiny pocket, and replaced the tape. The page tingled against her skin like a static generator, odd but not unpleasant.
“Jez?” called Benny from behind her.
She jumped. “Just keeping the butterfly safe,” she said. The page gave her a sharp twinge at the half-truth. “And trying to find a way to trap our mole,” she admitted.
He raised an eyebrow and closed the door in case she wanted to share more. When she said nothing, he held up bags of Chinese food. “Kung Pao shrimp and Cashew Chicken.”
She smiled. “Good. I’m going to be eating barbeque, chili, and fried, Angus-beef products for days.”
He set the bags on the long, oval table and they both had a seat on the leather sofa. “Comfortable,” she remarked. “I like firm.”
“It’s my second home, so I like it to be comfortable. Um… you changed shoes,” he noted. The black pumps had been replaced by thin, red heels.
“It’s kind of like Mr. Rogers changing into a sweater when he gets home. It makes me feel more feminine. I won’t get that for another few days, so I want to enjoy it while I can.”
As she dished out the food, he saw the gap between her slacks and camisole. “You're wearing underwear this time,” he said, clearing his throat. “Miss Johnson, are you making a move on me?”
She licked sauce off her fingertips, before replying, “Mr. Hollis, when I make a move on you, you’ll know. The only question will be whether you want to undo your own pants or will it be quicker for me to do it for you.”
A jolt went
through him. She couldn’t lie. Losing coordination, he spilled the box with the fortune cookies. She grabbed one and peeled it open. “Goody, I love having dessert first.”
She cracked the cookie open and read, “Listening will bring you great success. Hmm. I guess that’s a hint. Tell me everything I need to know about Seth Wannamaker and Whirlwind.” Jez crossed her legs and faced him as she ate.
“Stay as far away from him as possible; he is tremendously strong and obscenely heavy. Your martial arts training will be almost useless against him. He’s unusually charismatic, which may have a page, genetic, or chemical aspect. Be careful.”
She looked at the photo he passed over and winced. The random folds of flesh made Seth hideous.
Benny continued, “Don’t stare or react; he might take offense. Take the picture and practice. Each side gets to bring four bodyguards. Take Frank, he’s most comfortable with your style.”
She nodded, taking a helping of lo mein. “I’ll let Frank choose the others. How many are you taking on the Dallas raid?”
“Six, plus hired specialists.”
“Assuming everyone works that shift, it leaves four regulars for Oobie, and six for HQ. We’re spread pretty thin.”
“Big risk for a big gain,” he countered. “They chose a neutral meeting ground, the indoor swimming pool at a country club. No one should be around at ten at night, not even a security guard.”
She looked at the address on the page. “Isn't that the exclusive place all the Geneagra executives hang out? Nice. I bet Seth pees in the pool and puts shells in the egg salad. I think I could respect this guy.”
After a few more trivial details, he grabbed her hand and gazed into her face with sincerity. “Most importantly, if anything seems off in the slightest, trust your instincts. Cut and run. We can always schedule another meeting; we can’t find someone else like you.”
She gave him a crooked smile at his use of the royal we. “I appreciate the thought. You need to be careful going up against Maverick and an oversexed starlet.”
Chapter 18 – Spy versus Spy
“Why on a bus?” Nena demanded.
“It gets a little ripe, but it’s the safest overall. There are too many ways to die on a plane,” Jez explained.
“Not enough firepower,” said Frank. “In addition to bullet-resistant windows, we have a van-load of heavily armed guards on each side, and two in here. Nobody is scoring Butterfly without calling in a cruise missile.”
Daniel held up a new, video-game box. “Plus, on the plane, we couldn’t have pizza and a multiplayer, three-dimensional Die, Zombie, Die tournament. I don’t have any dives scheduled till tomorrow.”
Nena forced a smile. “Oh, you only have four controllers…”
“I’m going to bed early,” Dr. Weiss announced.
Jez suppressed a grin as Daniel equipped Frank and Nena with the goggles and plastic gun controllers. “I’ve already played the two-dimensional version, so I’ll walk you to the bunks. That way I can show you the monitors for tomorrow.”
When the doctor was settled into bed, she attached the portable monitors and asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“I volunteered.”
She pulled the paragraph out and held it up for him to read. “Murder is the sign of the Destroyer,” it began. The white-haired doctor arched his neck and back, spiking on the electrical encephalogram. Then his body relaxed.
“See you in eight hours,” she promised.
Jez was the first person eliminated in the tournament. Daniel was a quick second. Frank was just that good with a firearm. He kept saying things like, “A real gun would have more stopping power.”
Jez told him, “They have better ammunition if you click over there, but you only get about half as many shots per clip.”
“Undead or not, if I hit someone there, the bone would snap.”
As Crusader had noted during training, Nena was a fast learner and inherently sneaky. Daniel became her chief cheerleader, offering game tips whenever she needed them. In return, she sat on his lap so he could point things out more easily. Whenever she cleared out one of the big, boss monsters, she’d bounce with excitement.
“It doesn’t get any better than this,” Daniel said.
Eventually, she lost the competition because she kept double-tapping the corpses with the expensive ammunition to make sure they stayed down. By contrast, Frank always saved one round for himself.
Daniel immediately demanded a rematch, but Nena wanted to watch a chick flick. Jez signaled him to give in, and then excused herself to go to bed. Frank went to check in with the other teams.
****
The next morning, Jez found the kids asleep next to each other in front of the TV. “It does get better,” she whispered, covering him with a blanket and turning off the blue screen. Then, she checked on the doctor. He wasn’t awake yet, even though his pulse was strong and all other monitors were in the normal range. While the other agents ate at a roadside diner, Jez stayed at his side. Weiss didn’t open his eyes until after ten that morning.
When he read the indicators himself, the doctor said, “Age must play a role in the refractory period.”
“You mean recovery?” she said with a smirk.
“That too,” he admitted. “I had Lasik surgery when it first came out. I hated those thick, Coke-bottle glasses because if you got a new pair or jostled the old ones, everything looked like it was underwater. My thinking feels like that now, awkward and unstable.”
She handed him a coffee with his usual cream and multiple sugars. “The neurons are still reformatting. The rate will decrease over time. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three.”
“Try to lie about it.”
He struggled, but no sound came out.
“Excellent,” she said. “It took. Are you working for any other individual or business interest?”
“No.”
“Good. You’re the only one I know isn’t a mole. Try to sit back and keep off the radar till we arrive. I’m writing you a note, telling everyone you’re my deputy. If anything happens to Daniel while I’m gone tonight, you’re in charge.”
“What do I do? I haven't been trained.”
“That’s precisely why I picked you. Maverick trained half our people and wrote our security manuals. Your job is to be unpredictable. Surprise anyone who has a trap laid out for us.”
He nodded. “What about Mr. Hollis?”
“I've taken care of Benny. I sent Steve, one of my people, to shadow him and reserved a Life Flight for him tonight through the Frisco Hospital.”
“Emergency evacuation, smart. Won’t that leave you a little undermanned?”
“In the short term,” she said grinning.
****
Oobie, Vader, Cornflake Girl, and their guards waited in a double motel room with the adjoining doors opened for access. Oobie dove in to scout the country-club pool. “Clear,” he announced over the channels.
Jez was watching the meeting site through night binoculars. She was also listening to her people, the police bands, and Benny’s team simultaneously. Benny had skipped out of the cotillion early when he didn’t see Claudette. He took the whole team to her mansion north of Dallas. There was a burst of action at the front door as they overcame a Rex.
“The new, martial-arts training paid off,” Jez’s shadow reported via cell phone. A former army volunteer, Steve had always wanted to be in Recon, but was an inch too short. She found he was long in attitude and willing to bend the rules on the side of the angels. “Nobody on our side got hurt. They’re going inside the mansion now.”
At five minutes till ten, her team walked up to the rear of the brick pool building.
Over the phone, she heard Steve say, “Busted.”
Then, Benny came over her shadow’s headset, “Butterfly, did you really put a helicopter on standby for me?”
“Yes, sir. One of the new Sikorskys; it fits four crew, two patients, and travels 17
5 miles an hour.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I can handle myself,” he insisted. “I did all my own boxing in that last movie.”
“And Maverick does his own killing in real life,” she countered. “It never hurts to have an ace up the sleeve. Later, I would have kicked myself for not doing it. How is Starlet?”
“Sore. He got unconventional toward the end of their relationship, crossing the line from pleasure to pain. Then a few days ago, he emptied her bank accounts, got her passwords for the corporate computers, maxed out her credit cards, and left.”
Jez was wary. “It sounds like he knew you were coming. There might still be a surprise waiting for you. Do me a favor and stay on the line with me till you get to the airport.”
“Only if I get to listen to your meeting,” Benny insisted.
“Deal,” she agreed. Stuffing the phone into her breast pocket, she switched to the throat microphone. “Anyone in the storage area?”
Oobie replied, “Just a bunch of chemical drums for the chlorination system. Whirlwind is playing it straight. Jumbo and four of his lieutenants have taken the west end of the pool.”
The building was designed in a giant U shape. In the center, they had the main entrance, coat room, bar, and offices. The west wing was the pool, and the east wing housed several large activity rooms used for weddings and dances. “Can you get me anything on the reception rooms?”
“Not unless I have DNA on someone in there, or follow you. But Doc says, other than our friends, the satellite feed has been quiet for the last three hours, since the place closed. I’ll dive back and watch for trouble.”
She repeated the recon report for her extended team. “We break the tree line and jog across the lawn at T minus two. Fan out and stay alert. I’ll scan for actives. Frank, watch my six. On my mark. Go!”
The four dashed across the exposed area and crouched against the wall. The alarm box was already rigged. Someone whipped out a bump key and opened the door for the rest of the team. They waltzed in the servant’s entrance to the bar and set up motion sensors to cover their blind spot. No one would sneak into the east end of the pool to ambush them without setting off an alarm that could wake the dead.