Brave New World

by David Archer

  Once the bottle was propped on the folded blanket—and yes, Sam knew that most people frowned on that practice, but Indie said they were full of crap and he believed her—Sam poured himself a cup of the cold coffee that was still in the pot and stuck it into the microwave for ninety seconds while he put on a fresh pot. A little sugar added made it bearable, so he took it to the table and sat down in front of his baby boy.

  “This is our coffee time,” Sam said to Bo. “I realize your coffee comes in a bottle and tastes a lot like formula, but that’s because Mommy would get really mad if I give you any of mine. We don’t like it when Mommy gets mad, do we?”

  “Burble-oooop!” Bo said around the nipple, and Sam understood it to mean, “Heck, no, Dad! We want Mom in a good mood!”

  Sam smiled and glanced at the window over the sink. The sun was just coming up out there, so it must be about seven. He turned his head to look back at the microwave and saw that his guess was pretty close, since it was actually seven-oh-four. He turned back to Bo and grinned at him.

  “Won’t be long now before the sun gets up before you do,” he said. “You’ll forgive me if I’m looking forward to that, right? Your old dad could use a few extra minutes of sleep most mornings.”

  “Goorgle-burp!”

  “I agree,” Sam said, “Daddy needs sleep more than Mommy does, but let’s not tell Mommy, okay?”

  “Tell Mommy what?” Kenzie asked as she came into the room. She climbed onto a chair and leaned on the table to kiss Bo on the cheek, prompting another of his happy smiles. “Hey, Bo.”

  She turned to Sam. “Can we have scramblers for breakfast?”

  Sam nodded. “Yep. You wanna watch Bo while I get started?”

  Kenzie nodded and pulled the springy little chair closer to her side of the table, turning it so she could look into his face. “Can Bo have some this time?”

  Sam was up and walking toward the refrigerator. “You have to ask Mommy. I don’t think a bite or two would hurt him, but Mommy is the expert on that stuff.”

  “When I grow up and have babies,” Kenzie said, “I’ll be an expert, too, cause I’ll learn it all from Mommy.”

  “I bet you will. You’re already a big helper around here, you know that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetie.” Sam was at the fridge, dragging a dozen eggs and assorted other things out and setting them on the counter.

  “Is Bo better than me?” Kenzie asked suddenly.

  Sam spun and looked at her. “Of course not,” he said. “Kenzie, why would you ask something like that?”

  “My friend Keisha, at school,” Kenzie said, her eyes on her baby brother’s face, “she said her mommy got married and then her mommy and her new daddy had a baby, and her new daddy says the new baby is better cause he’s not Keisha’s real daddy, but he is for the baby. She said you’re gonna think Bo is better than me.”

  “Well, you can tell Keisha she’s wrong. You’re my little girl because I love you, not because of who your daddy is. Bo, too, it’s not because I’m his father, but because I love him, and I love both of you just as much. Nobody is better than anyone else, and especially not in our family.”

  Kenzie looked up at him with a beautiful smile. “That’s what I already told her,” she said, “’cause I know we’re not like that.”

  “That’s right, we’re not!” Sam said. He turned back to the bowl he had set on the counter and began breaking eggs into it. Scramblers, as Kenzie called it, was Sam’s favorite scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and crumbled sausage. The secret to making them taste best, he said, was to let the cheese marinate in the eggs while he fried the sausage, then stir it all into the skillet together with the sausage grease. It sounded awful, his mother always said, but she never turned down a plateful if she was there when he made it.

  Once the eggs and cheese were happily together, he broke up the sausage and dropped it into a large skillet, then turned the heat up to medium. It didn’t take long for the meat to be sizzling, and the aroma of sausage in the air brought Indie into the kitchen just a few minutes later.

  “Mommy,” Kenzie cried when Indie snuck up behind her and pulled her into a hug. “We’re havin’ scramblers! Can Bo have some?”

  Indie made a face, as if she was thinking about it. “Maybe just a tiny bit,” she said. “He’s still pretty little, we don’t want his tummy to get upset.”

  “Scramblers don’t upset my tummy, Mommy. They make my tummy feel good!”

  “Yeah, right? Mine, too. And Daddy makes the best scramblers.”

  She let go of her daughter and checked on Bo, who smiled happily at her around the bottle, then walked over and put her arms around Sam from behind. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best husband ever?”

  “I think you mentioned that a couple times the last few days,” Sam said, “usually when I’m letting you sleep in a little longer.”

  “Of course, that’s what makes you the best. Well, that and making breakfast.”

  “Is that all? And here I thought it had to do with how much I love you,” he said, and then turned to look into her eyes while making sure Kenzie was occupied with Bo, lowering his voice to a whisper, “or because of how well.” He gave her a lecherous grin, and she poked him in the ribs.

  “Behave yourself,” she whispered back, “your children are in the room.”

  Sam laughed as Indie let him go and poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat down at the table with the children. It was a Sunday, so Kenzie didn’t have school, and none of them had anything pressing. Sam had promised to take Indie shopping for some new clothes that day, since she was finally starting to lose most of the extra pounds that came along with Bo.

  Some of them were going even faster than she had expected, and she was actually smaller than she had been before finding out that she was pregnant. As a result, most of her clothes were now too big, and Sam said he would be delighted to buy her a whole new wardrobe. Of course, he wanted to pick out some of them, but that was okay with Indie, too.

  The sausage was done, and the scramblers were being whisked around in the skillet. It took Sam only a few more minutes to pronounce them ready, and Kenzie did some scrambling of her own to get plates and forks for them all. As soon as she set a plate on the table, Sam was spooning the eggs onto it, making sure to add a few extra bites to Kenzie’s plate so that she could try giving them to Bo.

  “Most people say you shouldn’t ever give eggs to babies this young,” Indie said, “but I've seen a lot of them eat stuff they aren’t supposed to, and it’s never hurt them. Let’s see if he likes this.” She took a small plastic spoon and scooped up a small bit without sausage, then blew on it to cool it down. When she felt it was cool enough, she handed the spoon to Kenzie. “Just offer it to him, he’ll let you know if he wants to try it or not.”

  She and Sam watched carefully as their daughter held the tip of the spoon up to Bo’s mouth, while Indie held his bottle. The baby boy felt something on his lip and stuck out his tongue, sucking the egg and cheese mixture into his mouth, and his eyes popped open as his mouth worked it around. A couple of seconds later he swallowed, and looked at his big sister expectantly.

  Indie laughed. “He’s your kid,” she said, as Kenzie got another small bite and began blowing on it.

  “Definitely a Prichard,” Sam said, reaching over and touching her hand. “I couldn't be more proud, babe.”

  The family ate their breakfast and then went about getting themselves dressed and ready for the day. Since they had planned this shopping excursion for several days, and since Sam wanted to have some time alone with his wife—something that didn’t happen very often anymore—he had called his mother the night before and asked if she and Indie’s mother, Kim, might like to babysit for the day. As always, they had jumped at the chance. This would actually be the first time they would have both children to themselves for the day, and the grandmas intended to enjoy it.

  “Okay,” Indie said as they dropped off the children,
“I've got everything you might need in the bag. There’s plenty of diapers, the wipes, baby powder, lotion, his favorite toys, oh, and I’ve got formula and water. There’s also some baby food, he likes the strained carrots the best. Call us if there’s any problem, okay?”

  “Indiana, go,” Kim said. “Trust me, neither of us has forgotten how to take care of a baby.”

  “She’s right, Samuel,” Grace added in. “Take your wife out and spoil her for the day. She deserves it, especially after giving you such wonderful children.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Sam said. “Thanks, Kim. We’ll be back to get them around seven.”

  “That’ll be fine,” Kim said. “We’re going to play all day, aren’t we, Bo? And Mackenzie will help us take care of this little guy, because she is just the best big sister in the world, aren’t you, Kenzie?”

  The little girl shook her head and sighed. “I try,” she said, making all of the adults chuckle.

  Sam took hold of Indie’s hand and pulled her out of the house. He walked her to his car, the burgundy 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 he had bought after the insurance paid off on his totaled Corvette, and opened the door to let her get into the passenger seat. He closed the door as she buckled up, then walked around and got behind the wheel.

  “Are you ready?” Sam asked.

  “Am I ever!” Indie said. “You realize this will be my first day off from both kids in forever, right?”

  Sam grinned at her as he started the car and put it in gear. “I don’t think it’s quite been forever,” he said, “but I know it’s been a while. Let’s go have some fun, and we’ll get some shopping done while we’re at it.”

  They drove to Colorado Mills, a shopping mall with some of the clothing stores Indie liked. She had learned early on, she had told Sam, that being so small meant that a lot of factory-made clothing wouldn’t fit her properly. She was too small for women’s clothing, but kids’ clothes weren’t cut right for the shape of her body. As a result, she had to buy her best clothes at specialty shops.

  Four hours later, Sam decided that lunch was at least an hour overdue and talked her into a stop at Charley’s Philly Steaks in the mall. The sandwiches were great, and they were enjoying the break as well, when Sam’s cell phone rang.

  He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID, then grinned as he answered it.

  “Hey, Ron,” he said. “How you been?”

  “I’m good, Sam, and you?” Ron Thomas was an old friend. Sam had originally met him when Ron worked for Harry Winslow in the Denver Field Office of the Department of Homeland Security, but that had been a couple of years earlier. When Harry was promoted and sent back to D.C., Ron and Jeff Donaldson, his best friend and brilliant partner in devising new ways to snoop on potential terrorists, had decided to enter the private sector. They had formed Windlass Security, a company that originally specialized in computer security solutions for large corporations but evolved over the past year and a half to being a premier operator in counter-industrial-espionage.

  “I can’t complain. Been taking it easy the past few months. I know I was supposed to call, but I’ve just been enjoying life with a new baby boy in the house.”

  “Which means you’re not getting nearly enough sleep,” Ron said with a laugh. “Don’t forget, Sam, I’ve got a wife and three kids. I know what life with a new baby is like.”

  “Yeah, well, good with the bad, y’know? What can I do for you, Ron?”

  “Well, it’s about that call you were supposed to give me. Sam, I want to offer you a job.”

  Sam glanced at Indie, who could hear Ron through the phone’s loud earpiece. Her eyes were bright as she waited to hear more.

  “You’ve mentioned that before,” Sam said. “Is there something going on that makes you call me on a Sunday?”

  “Yeah, there actually is,” Ron said, “and to be perfectly frank, this is a matter of wanting you on this case, whether you come on the payroll full time or not. I’m just hoping to convince you that our benefit plan is one you can’t live without, but if I can’t, then we want to retain your services as a PI.”

  Sam looked at Indie again, and saw her watching him. “Ron, I’ll sit down and talk. When would be good for you?”

  “How about over dinner? Bring Indie and let me and Jeff take you guys out for a treat, and we can talk business then. Say, six o’clock at Ocean Prime? I’m talking lobster, old buddy!”

  Indie was nodding, so Sam chuckled. “My beloved says we’ll be there. Anything you need me to know beforehand?”

  “Yeah,” Ron said. “See if you can find The Terminator on Netflix and watch it.” The line cut off.

  “He hangs up just like Harry,” Sam said, and then he looked at his wife again. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at him. “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “It just worried me that he wants you to watch Terminator before he talks to you about a job.”

  Sam thought about it. “You’ve got a point. If it was anyone else, I’d think they were being sarcastic, but Ron’s too literal for that. Think this case might have something to do with killer robots?”

  “If it does,” Indie said with her eyes even wider, “you tell him to stick it where the sun don’t shine! Not even your luck could be good enough to take on one of those things!”

  Sam chuckled, but a part of him was agreeing with her. He dialed again and put the phone back to his ear.

  “Hey, Mom? Would you guys mind if we’re a little later picking up the kids? Indie and I have been invited to dinner.”

  2

  Ocean Prime is a very popular seafood restaurant in Denver, known throughout the tourism world for their lobster and salmon. Sam and Indie had been there a couple of times, but only when they were the guests of Harry Winslow, who admitted that he was only going there because he could expense it to Uncle Sam. Buying dinner for Sam Prichard, who had saved the world from terrorism and worse more than once, was grudgingly allowed by the General Accounting Office, as long as Harry didn’t do it too often. Harry told Sam that any time he felt like having the best lobster in the western hemisphere, he just came up with a reason to talk to Sam and invited them to Ocean Prime.

  This was the first time Ron Thomas had offered the incentive, but Sam just figured that he had probably called Harry and asked how to get Sam to do something. Harry would almost certainly have suggested Ocean Prime as a bribe, because it had always worked.

  They got to the restaurant a few minutes early but Ron and Jeff were already there. The hostess had been told to watch for them and to bring them to Table 50, the glass-enclosed private dining area in the corner. It was known to be almost completely soundproof, but Jeff had taken the added precaution of sweeping it for electronic eavesdropping devices. He found one, in fact, but it appeared to be an old one that had probably been there for months, going unnoticed since it was embedded in the silicone-rubber seals between the glass panes. After the manager had seen him find it, he quickly arranged to contract with Windlass to scan the rest of the restaurant the following day.

  The hostess escorted them to the table and called a waitress to get their drink orders, then closed the glass door as she left. Ron motioned for them all to remain quiet for a moment, until she returned, then told her they’d let her know when they were ready to order, after they’d had a few minutes to talk.

  “Thanks for coming,” Ron said. “I hated to bother you on a weekend, but it’s important, Sam, and we just don’t know of anyone else we could trust with this case.”

  “What he said,” Jeff added. “Ron can be a little long-winded, though, so I’ll cut to the chase. Which do you want to talk about first? The case, or the job offer?”

  “The case,” Sam and Indie said together, and then all four of them chuckled.

  “Floor’s yours, Ron,” Jeff said.

  Sam and Indie turned their attention to Ron, who cleared his throat before he began speaking.

  “Okay, first I’ll give you the basics, and
then we’ll fill in the gaps. We’ve been employed by CerebroLink Polymedical, a biotech company owned by a certain well-known entrepreneur whose name we’re not at liberty to speak out loud, to recover something that was stolen three days ago from one of his companies, a company that most people aren’t even aware of. It's been kept secret for a number of reasons, some of which involve government contracts that are highly classified, but also because some of their work has a tendency to incite some pretty hateful activities by various groups of people. It's nothing illegal, by any means, but there are some extreme groups that consider it highly immoral, almost on a level with satanic activity or demonic possession.”

  Sam’s eyebrows went up half an inch. “Satanic? You want to explain the connection?”

  “There is not one, I promise,” Ron said, “except in the minds of some extreme right-wingers, and don’t give me that look, I know you’re kind of a right-winger yourself. Trust me when I say that this goes far beyond anything you’d ever consider.”

  Sam nodded. “Go on,” he said.

  “Okay. This thing that was stolen is the prototype of a new technology that has the potential for actual miraculous-style benefits to humanity, but like any kind of powerful tech, it also has potential for extreme harm. It can’t be used directly as a weapon, but it could certainly enhance what many weapons could do. That alone was enough to get us involved, but there’s a lot more. We need you to come on board and find this thing, Sam, or at the very least find proof that it was stolen and by whom, so that the company can take action to recover it and stop anyone else from using it.”

  Sam looked at him for a moment, then turned to Indie. “Anything scare you yet?”

  “I’m reserving comment for the moment,” she said, her eyes fixed on Ron.

  Sam turned back to him. “Okay, is that the basics? Then let’s fill in the gaps. What is this prototype, and what does it do that makes it so important?”

  Ron turned to his business partner. “Jeff? You’re on.”

  Jeff Donaldson, a slightly chubby man in his mid-thirties, leaned forward and grinned. “Sam, do you know anything about BCI?”