The Scarab

by Rhine, Scott

  He laughed. “I confess, she means to ambush you and introduce you to all her friends and family as a kind of engagement party. But remember, you didn’t hear it from me.”

  I zipped my lips by way of promise.

  “Where is the girl?” he asked, casually.

  “Uh, woman,” I corrected. Mare has flayed people for less. “With her brother Steve, telling the whole family. I don’t have anyone to call.” I pondered this for a moment. “We haven’t set the date yet, Nigel. But would you consider being best man?”

  He was taken aback. “I’m very honored, but don’t you have anyone else your own age?”

  I shrugged. “My best friend in school was Nick. He died in the last NATO action. My best friends since then have been Mare and you. I can’t very well ask Mare, can I? Just think about it. Nothing is settled yet.”

  He nodded. “Certainly, certainly.”

  “Oh, we’re all going to the hotel brunch. We’d like you to come along, our treat.”

  He agreed under the condition that I wouldn’t tell Celeste if he snitched a few strips of bacon. Then he handed me today’s game bulletin along with the executive summary containing the status and weaponry on every remaining contestant. Since I was pretty familiar with these already, I flipped through the color fliers first.

  We would resume from where we left off in the morning session. The first session would last three hours, and it would be a free-for-all. At 4:00 PM, the race would stop for the last break. The final session would begin at 5:00 PM, immediately after the charity banquet. Since we should have been passing Nuremburg by then, the press releases included information about the trials held there after World War II, as well as the monuments built later. I was more interested in the tourist promotion for Munich’s Octoberfest. “Too bad we didn’t go through in October,” I muttered.

  “Oh, they don’t hold it in October any more. It’s too cold, and the drunks freeze,” he said with a straight face.

  “You’ve been?” I asked.

  “My brother runs a little electronics company there. I can tell you a little about it if you like,” he volunteered.

  “Good beer?” I asked.

  Foxworthy frowned a little at this, perhaps remembering the FCC accusation of alcoholism. “I suppose. They have beautiful old architecture, a wonderful subway system, and old Bavarian castles that put the rest of the world to shame. King Ludwig knew how to decorate. What they won’t tell you on the news is how bad the drivers are there.”

  “I thought the Autobahn was a model system.”

  He shook his head. “In the city, they are maniacs. And the swearing! You can always tell when a person from Munich is worked up because they slip into a very clipped Bavarian dialect.”

  “Anything else I should know?” I asked, scanning first his report and then a highlighted printout. He must have been preparing this for hours.

  “They’re very rigid, like everything to be proper. I remember when my brother...”

  “I meant about the race.”

  We were interrupted by a knock at the door. After introductions, I passed the summary to Mare, and Nigel continued. “Look at the GEDM entry closest to you, the weapons.”

  Steve blurted out a word we couldn’t broadcast over the network feed. “Microwave lasers.”

  “MASERs are illegal in most countries,” Nigel said.

  I wasn’t impressed. “We break ten laws a minute in this game, what’s the deal?”

  Nigel was serious. “The microwaves pass through windshields without being affected. Once inside the vehicle, they heat up any water molecules, cooking the target long after the beam shuts off.”

  Steve understood immediately. “So they have one purpose, to kill the pilot while leaving the vehicle unharmed. It’s kind of like the neutron bomb on a small scale.”

  Nigel nodded.

  “You’ve put an enormous amount of work into this. Thank you, Nigel. But, I don’t have a pilot to cook yet,” I said.

  Steve chimed in. “MASERs are still nasty. Even if they don’t melt through you, they can blow up your radiator from the inside.” Mare stared at him. “What are you looking at me like that for? I’ve never used them. Marines just need to know these things.”

  “I’ve got foil countermeasures,” I explained.

  Steve snorted. “Why stop there, why not stuff popcorn up his barrel?”

  This gave me an idea. I filed it for future reference. “What concerns me is how much power those things take. What kind of power plant do they have?”

  “Nuke,” Mare said, glancing at the sheet.

  I sighed. “Great. When I kill him, I’m going to have to be really careful or I’ll pollute half the countryside. I don’t want to contaminate my hull any more than I already have.”

  “When you kill him? What are you packing?” Steve asked. He didn’t seem to be questioning my confidence. If I said it, and Mare let it pass, he believed it. He was enjoying his new-found insider status and had a healthy, if morbid, curiosity.

  “Machineguns.”

  “Is that it?”

  Nigel intervened. “We can use our repair funds to purchase special ammunition to counter this threat. I took the liberty of highlighting the selections available on this page,” he said turning to a page near the end where the highlighting color had changed to blue. He had been a very busy boy.

  “Spent uranium slugs?” asked Mare.

  “Rock and Roll,” said Steve.

  “Too heavy,” I explained. “In fact, I’m jettisoning most of what’s left of the normal bullets from the sled so we can travel as light as possible. I will be loading some blue paint pellets for emergencies, though.”

  Mare nodded. She knew about our invisible enemy and approved. “Good for style points if you want to count coup, and the sensors won’t go off when you arm them because it’s not live ammo.”

  “Why don’t you have more weapons?” Steve asked, staring at our specifications.

  I shrugged. No one else had questioned my design, maybe because they were afraid of offending me. Normally, these questions would have rubbed me the wrong way, but he asked them in a way that assured me he was only a novice trying to help. “Partly because of cost and weight. This is a race. Mainly, I made the decision because of philosophy. The fifty caliber shells will penetrate any middle or lightweight like butter, and if I meet anybody bigger than me, I should run. People who think a big gun is an excuse to fight whomever they meet usually end up dead. I plan to win.”

  Steve agreed heartily with mild profanity.

  We were interrupted again by a knock at the door. I answered to find Josie Valencia in a purple harem outfit which competed for attention with her orange hair. She carried herself like she wore these outfits every day. Maybe on stage, she did. The air she had about her today was more aggressive and extroverted than at the party. “As promised, I brought the costumes,” the singer said, indicating a bellhop and a loaded cart behind her.

  “Miss Valencia,” I said, introducing her. “You out-did yourself.”

  She stepped in to meet everyone. I noticed the purple eye-shadow she had on to compliment the outfit. Her overall effect was not cheap, but gave one the impression that she was a kind of fashion commando who took no prisoners. “I got extras in case something didn’t fit.” It must be some kind of radar women have because as soon as she got in the room, she was sucked to Mare’s ring. She fussed appropriately over it. Although they had only met, the ladies seemed to be getting along famously.

  “This is my co-pilot and fiancée, Mary Ann,” I said.

  “The Josie Valencia?” Steve drooled and stared.

  “You’re cute,” she said to him. “You are...?”

  “Our team physician,” I improvised. Because of increased security, he couldn’t attend the press conference unless he had a legitimate team function. I had the perfect excuse. It would also help dispel the rumors that I kept an all-female staff. “Mary’s brother, Steve.”

  “Ooo, a d
octor,” she cooed. She was good at that. Steve still wasn’t talking. Josie didn’t seem to mind. “I have just the costume for you.”

  “A paramedic, actually. What happened to Antonio?” I asked.

  Both of them glared at me with a “get lost” expression. Then, Josie remembered there were other people in the room. “He was fun, but not what I’m looking for. You, on the other hand, have an awfully interesting chin. You can tell a lot about a man from his chin.” Her Louisiana accent leaked through again, and Steve was putty.

  Mare made a show of looking at her watch. “We have to eat. You’re welcome to come with us if you’d like.”

  Steve nodded vigorously.

  “Afterwards, Steve, you help her unpack the costumes in the kitchen while we get ready for the race,” I suggested.

  “Sure,” Josie agreed. “He looks strong enough.”

  Steve’s mouth was working, but no sounds came out yet.

  “By the way,” she remembered. “Who are all those guys in the hallway?”

  Mare looked at me for the answer. “Guards. Some people are kind of trying to kill me.” That snapped Steve Anselm out of his star-struck puppy stupor.

  “Why?” Josie asked.

  I decided to tell Steve now instead of later. “Some folks were cheating at the game. I found them out, and they kidnapped Mare to keep me quiet. I...”

  “He rescued me, hospitalizing all but one of the ring members. One is going to need therapy to stand unassisted. The FBI is afraid the ring-leader, Kali, may be out for revenge,” Mare finished for me.

  “Fu...” Steve began, and then caught himself before he offended Josie. “Fantastic. And Junior thought you were a wimp.”

  Mare’s oldest brother thought every guy who didn’t play tackle basketball was a wimp. He was pushing forty and his favorite expression was “What foul?”

  I shrugged, and Steve slugged me in my good shoulder. Josie had a puzzled expression on her face. Evidently, she was short enough to see something we had all missed. “I thought Kali was your friend. After all, she signed your sling.”

  Chapter 24 – Everything but the Squeal

  Whitaker called his boss immediately on the head set. “In light of recent developments, sir, I’m afraid we cannot allow you to go to the hotel restaurant. There are too many people there and too much risk,” he told me.

  I sulked. “I wanted to celebrate.”

  Mare was already removing my sling carefully for the FBI labs to analyze for evidence. She pulled a plastic bag from her new purse and labeled it with a black marker that one of the suits from the hall handed her. “Not till we find this witch.”

  Steve agreed with my shadow. “Hey, man, she’s right. The Scarab is the one who comes back to life again, not you. Miss Valencia and I can go out and get something for everybody.”

  Out-voted, I sighed and then started delegating. “I suppose we could make it a working lunch. Bring back breakfast for five, plus anything Whitaker’s men want. I need some Dr. Pepper, and Mary Ann’s favorite type of muffin is banana nut. We can order pizza from the shop across the street once they open in another hour. Nigel, can you get a detailed map of today’s course to put on the wall? The route is Munich—Nuremberg—Leipzig—Berlin. Pay special attention to any area which doesn’t show up on satellite coverage; military bases, prisons, tunnels, or any other dead zones.”

  Foxworthy relished the chance to use the enlarge function on his copier, and got right to work. I still felt like I was using him, though, and wanted to give him some reward for all the effort he was putting in. “When you come with the map, bring your laptop and anything you’ll need to feel comfortable on a long drive.” Foxworthy raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to need someone to look after the base unit while we make the mercy run. I’ve got a bad wing and you’re the only other registered pilot we have.”

  At least Foxworthy was having a good day by the time we left. I still felt we could win, but it was kind of like a volleyball game now. I wanted everyone to have a chance to participate and we had to work as a team for any of us to succeed. He’d be telling these war stories to his grandkids.

  Mare passed off the evidence bag before I could get a look at it. Soon, we were being escorted back to our suite. My elbow and forearm started to hurt without the sling, so I put my right hand behind my neck to help elevate it until I could get a replacement.

  “You could have warned me about Josie’s dye job,” Mare whispered, changing the subject.

  “I thought the adjectives amiable and shocking would have adequately prepared you.” When we could talk about the case without alarming any innocent bystanders, I asked, “What did it say?”

  “It was a phone number,” she told me, loud enough for our guards to hear. “Yours in Hawaii.”

  “But I’m unlisted,” I said, walking faster.

  “She probably found the number on your workstation or the SimCon paperwork. It doesn’t matter. She’s just sending you a message. Now, it’s personal.”

  “Should I call in to see if she left me any voice-mail?” I offered.

  “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll stay safe in our room and concentrate on winning this race. Leave everything else to the professionals. We can’t let her get away.”

  “Maybe we have to call it from the hotel. I know she still has her own programs running on the hotel’s computer switching system. She’s sent me messages that way before. You know, she might have worked for the phone company or specialized in communications theory in school.”

  Whitaker faded into the foreground once again. “We can start checking that out. There are probably only about ten women a year who graduate with that specialty. We’ll get a list of everybody fitting the revised profile by this afternoon. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch her before she strikes again.”

  When we reached the room, Mare told him, “You’re right. We’ve got to stop reacting to her threats after the fact and start outthinking her. We outnumber her now.”

  “Is that why she’s going to parties, and we both need ice packs?” I said, raiding the freezer for a fresh gel pack for each of us.

  Mare started organizing the command center for us again. “It doesn’t add up. What she has already should be enough. Kali has the data from over eighty vehicles. Why should she risk capture for another thirteen? The others might have gone to jail for something that penny-ante, but not her. There’s something bigger at stake.”

  I arranged seating for everyone and found an extra phone line and joystick for the laptop. “We’re on to her, but we can’t stop her. Unless we can physically capture her, she can try again any time she wants.”

  “But nobody with her obvious intelligence would risk exposure for no profit. I need to know why.” She connected cables for me while I warmed up the interface.

  “Revenge. Even the smartest person can have a blind spot. You said it yourself. It’s personal now.” I put the rattler virus the Feds had isolated on my workstation immediately after I powered up. Uncle Sam says, practice safe death.

  Mare shook her head. “No, she could do that at any time. She could wait till you no longer had protection and weren’t watching. It’s what I’d do.” I made a mental note never to piss off my future wife. “There’s something here, today, that she still wants.”

  While calibrating the new Sansui station for Mare, I said, “Maybe she wants to keep her promises to her clients.”

  “Honor among thieves, hardly,” she scoffed. The ring suited her. I tried to picture her hair with a spray of baby’s breath in it.

  “Maybe the mob guys will hunt her down if she doesn’t.”

  Mare seemed unconvinced. “If no one has seen her and the Feds can’t find her, I think she’s safe. What if there’s more to the Charon program? What if her design is like yours? What if the grave-robbing feature is just part of the loophole she found? For some reason, she’s afraid of you. Kali believes you’re a lot like her in many ways. If you were running this ring, what would you be aft
er?”

  “That’s the sixty million dollar question,” I said. “I’ll let you know if I think of something in my spare time. Right now, we’ve got a race to plan.”

  Remembering my promise to the Feds last night, I phoned Andiron Enterprises to arrange an unpleasant surprise for Exotech. Everything was ready for sign-on in another twenty minutes when Steve and Josie arrived with the food. Josie had the same attitude about food as she did about costumes, better too much than too little. More and more I saw that as a cornerstone of her character. They brought back deli platters piled with several types of meat and cheese. Josie wanted to pay for it all, but I insisted on reimbursing her. After all, she was our guest.

  Once I had my caffeine, I tried some of the big tortilla chips they had on the side. When I told them I hadn’t had them in years, Josie insisted on taking us out to an authentic local Mexican restaurant for dinner. “You just can’t visit New Mexico without eating there. Wars have started for less.”

  “Sorry. We’ll be tied up the whole day till about eight or nine with the convention,” I said.

  She pouted till Steve said he’d be free. Then the two of them disappeared into the kitchen to unpack costumes. The Cinderella effect was contagious.

  After we pinned all the map pieces up on the wall, I explained the plan. “Before the race, we repair what we can, and I’ll show Nigel the ropes. Those trees put a few dents in our sides and trashed the top of the left-handed sled. I also want to patch and detox the windshield. Once the race starts, we decouple the right-handed sled from the main body. I’ll slave the main unit to the laptop and the Sansui to the sled making the run. We’ll need all the processing power we can get; that sled has an empty speed of over 300 kilometers per hour. The first half should be an easy trip on autopilot. Coming back will be the hard part.”

  I traced the route the sled would be taking in blue highlighter. I switched colors to orange for the main unit. “Meanwhile, Nigel will control the main unit. I’ll supervise both of you till we rejoin, but I don’t want to pilot unless we get into a fight. With any luck, I aim to prevent that. Nigel, GEDM is sending a heavy after us within the first hour. He’s probably going to be coming up this road behind us, looking for a sitting duck. Our batteries were pretty drained by a trick I played on the North Korean tank, so we’re going to need to recharge soon. We’re also not allowed to go any farther up the Autobahn toward Munich. If we were the predictable sort, he’d have us.”