NANOVISION: What Would You Do With X-ray Vision?

by Paul Harry

  It was almost 1:30 by the time the guy finished cleaning the offices of Dr. Curry. Mickey watched as the maintenance guy loaded his equipment back into the van. After locking up the office he climbed into the van and filled out some paperwork. He then left with Mickey following behind at a safe distance.

  Thirty-five minutes later and a good twenty miles across town Dury Cleaners made its next stop−another office building. This one was smaller and older−it backed up against a hillside, providing Mickey the opportunity he needed. The place was dark and remote, and Mickey knew he was unlikely to be seen on camera−if there were any at all. He took the semi out and attached the silencer, put gloves on, and while his intended victim was occupied getting his cleaning equipment out of the van, Mickey snuck up behind him. Without a word he capped the maintenance guy from behind with a bullet to the head splattering his brains across the inside of the van. The sound of the gun’s report was loud, louder than Mickey expected. Silencers were never what they made out on TV, but there was no response from anywhere in the neighborhood and the guy never knew what hit him. He collapsed in a heap halfway into the van−Mickey shoved him the rest of the way, but not before first grabbing the van keys and the guy’s wallet.

  Mickey drove the van to the closest bar he could find and parked. On the passenger seat next to him was a pile of rags, and underneath that a stack of papers and a log book--the appointment registry for Dury Cleaners. Mickey opened the log and thumbed through it. Inside he found the alarm code for Curry’s office. He was set. Ripping out the page he needed he threw the registry aside, and left the vehicle with the body inside. The guy he killed was probably single−he wasn’t wearing a ring and Mickey knew that with this being the Martin Luther King weekend, they wouldn’t start looking for this guy for days. And when they did, his death outside a bar would appear to be a simple robbery gone bad. What more could a hitman ask for?

  Using his phone to call a cab, Mickey retrieved his car and returned to the psychiatric office of Dr. Joseph Curry, parking on the street to avoid notice. Outside, the sky was starting to lighten and Mickey was dog tired. He’s been up almost twenty-four hours chasing Daniel Raye’s whereabouts and he was coked out to the max. He needed sleep. With keys in hand, Mickey entered Curry’s office, turning off the alarm system. He locked the door and cased the joint, checking the doctor’s appointment schedule. It appeared, according to the notes on the secretary’s desk that the good doctor would be out of town for the holiday weekend. He was going to Vegas. What a coincidence, thought Mickey−and how fortuitous. With the doctor gone, he wouldn’t have to get a motel room−the office even had a small shower. Taking off his jacket, Mickey settled in. The doctor’s psychiatric couch made a perfect bed.

  * * * *

  It was early Sunday morning by the time Daniel awoke. He had been asleep for over thirty-eight hours, mostly due to the sedation his aunt had administered. She wanted him to rest and remain still, giving the nanites inside him time to rearrange and rebuild the cellular structure of his eyes. It was an ongoing process.

  Daniel heard a voice.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. How you feeling?”

  Daniel struggled to focus. Everything was dark−his eyes were covered and his head was wrapped with gauze, and the dream he was having−whoa. And his mouth, it was so dry and sticky he could barely move his tongue. “Mmmm” was all he could get out.

  He felt someone lift his head and place a pillow behind it. A straw was placed between his lips−he drew in the cold water. “How do you feel?” the voice asked again. He recognized it this time−it was his Aunt.

  The water hit the spot. “Oh, wow,” he muttered, yawning as he took a deep breath. “I feel like I could sleep all day.”

  “It’s probably the nanites, they’re drawing energy from your body.”

  “Mmmm,” Daniel responded, not really listening.

  “Daniel, I need to give you another injection − a follow-up.”

  Daniel nodded his head weakly. “Okay.” He threw off the blanket covering him. “Gimmie a minute, I’ll get dressed.”

  His Aunt stopped him. “No, we can do it here. Just lie still.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes. I brought a hypo-gun home with me.”

  She tapped the small black case sitting in her lap. Daniel heard two metallic clicks as she opened it and removed the hypo gun. She then placed a vial filled with red liquid into the hypo chamber.

  “This time it won’t be as invasive. I just need to remove your bandages.”

  Unrolling the gauze that wrapped his head, Ethyl removed the two cotton pads that covered Daniel’s eyes. His eyelids were stuck shut from antibiotic gel and crusty eye residue−gunk. Ever so gently Ethyl pried open one of his eyelids, examining his eye. It was still white and layered with scar tissue−there seemed to be little change. Pressing the hypo against the hardened tissue, she pulled the trigger and a whoosh of air shot out. She repeated the procedure four more times; then moved on to Daniel’s other eye.

  Daniel was bursting with questions. “How do they look?” he asked.

  “It’s too early to tell,” she cautioned. “If this works it will happen in stages. The procedure yesterday was designed to repair the damage deep within your eyes near the optic nerve. These shots today will address the problems closer to the lens cortex. I’m going to give you another pill to help you sleep some more. Dissolving the scar tissue that covers your eyes will not be easy and it’ll probably sting like hell, but there’s no other way.”

  Daniel squeezed her hand. “Thank you,” he said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she replied, as she re-bandaged his eyes−she gave him a pain pill. He was nearly out when the downstairs phone rang. Ethyl felt her body tense. She then heard footsteps bouncing up the stairs−it was Katie, home from her softball game. She knocked on the door.

  “It’s open,” said Ethyl.

  Still in uniform, Katie entered the room carrying her glove and baseball bat along with the phone. She glanced over at Daniel, then whispered to her grandmother.

  “Nanna, it’s for you. It’s Ted Stockwell from security. He says it’s imperative that he talk with you.”

  Ethyl nodded her head and took the phone. “Hello,” she said, muffling her voice as she left the room.

  Daniel stirred.

  “Hey,” said Katie. “How yah feeling?” She leaned the bat against the wall and plopped down on the end of the bed.

  “Jaa-win?” asked Daniel, slurring his words.

  Katie shook her head. “Nah, we got creamed.”

  “If I g-g-get... ta see... a-a-gain. I’ll sh-sh-show yah... h-h-how to baaaat.”

  Katie laughed. “You sound drunk.”

  “Yea...” he replied, falling fast asleep.

  * * * *

  “Ms. Santini, it’s Ted from Internal Security. I wanted to call and let you know that Paul Gregan’s here with a bunch of people. He’s got a court order and they’re taking over Nanobytes. Alice called − your office has been sealed and everyone is being forced to leave. Security is escorting us out and the computers are down. What should I do?”

  “It’s okay, Ted. I’ve been expecting this. Get ahold of everyone and tell them to meet me off property at three o’clock. I’ll be there to explain everything. Good. Yes... Thank you.”

  Katie stood at the bottom of the stairs listening in on her Grandmother’s conversation. It didn’t sound good.

  “Nanna? What’s going on? And whose Ted−he sounded upset?”

  Ethyl motioned for Katie to come closer − she hugged her.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  Katie nodded, “Yes, Nanna, of course.”

  Ethyl began to weep. “Katie dear, I’m afraid I’m in trouble. You see, I’ve done something wrong... very wrong and I’m afraid it’s going to get me arrested.”

  “What? What did you do?”

  “I took something from NanoBytes... Valuable information...”

  “But you own
NanoBytes?”

  “There’s more to it than that, honey. When I decided to help Daniel a while back I skirted some federal regulations regarding embryonic research, I moved some money around... and I deleted some files.”

  “What kind of files?”

  “NanoBytes’ research data for the last five years.”

  “Oh, Nanna...”

  “I know, I know... but it was the only way to protect everyone. A lot of good people worked for me and I didn’t want to see them hurt. So I purged Nanobytes’ computer system.”

  * * * *

  It didn’t take Mickey long to find the file on Daniel Raye. Doctor Curry was no genius and his files were rudimentary. He actually had an antiquated filing system with paper files in metal cabinets. Thumbing through them, Mickey quickly found one labeled Daniel Raye / Daniel Lewis. It detailed the boy’s arrival in San Jose and the start of his psychiatric sessions. From there Mickey was able to find his legal guardian−Ethyl Ruth Santini. He found her address with his phone. It was all too easy. First, he’d grab a shower, then a bite to eat. Afterwards, he’d kill the kid and fly home. Keep it simple, he told himself, keep it simple.

  * * * *

  It was a little after two in the afternoon and Ethyl was upstairs getting dressed. She was nervous wondering what she was going to say to the people who worked for her. They would want to know what was going on and what the future held for Nanobytes. She was putting on her shoes when she heard a loud, hard pounding on the front door−it echoed through the house. Making her way downstairs, Ethyl approached the front door. She could already see red and blue lights flashing through the front window and she knew trouble had arrived. She called to Katie.

  Opening the door, Ethyl faced two uniformed officers, one male, one female and a detective.

  “Doctor Ethyl Santini?” the detective queried, half in question, half statement.

  Ethyl responded weakly. “Yes.”

  “I’m detective Harding, and I have a warrant for your arrest.”

  From behind, Katie screamed. “No!!! No, Nanna no!” She latched onto her grandmother, holding her tightly.

  Asleep in his room, Daniel awoke to the sounds of the commotion downstairs. What the hell was going on? What was Katie screaming about? Throwing off the covers, Daniel rolled out of bed, finding himself dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. He quickly grabbed his jeans and slid them on, then grabbed his walking stick. Moving toward the door, he struggled to fight off the influence of the sleeping pill. He felt like shit and it showed. Hobbling downstairs, he made it to the front room just in time to hear Katie crying, the cuffs being placed on his aunt’s wrists and the detective reading her her rights.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Katie was hysterical. Moving toward her, Daniel was stopped forcibly by the male officer. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stand back.”

  Daniel didn’t take the confrontation well. He reacted with hostility − his blood boiling. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” he shouted at the cop. “Can’t you see my bandages or my white cane? I’m blind for Christ’s sake − What the fuck do you think I’m going to do?”

  “Daniel... Katie... it’s all right,” consoled Ethyl quickly. “They’re just doing their job.”

  Katie refused her logic and took a swing at the female police officer. “Don’t take my Nanna,” she shouted. “You can’t have her. She didn’t do anything.” The officer was forced to restrain her, giving Daniel a chance to move in. He grabbed Katie in a tight embrace wrapping his arms around her.

  “Katie! Katie!” he shouted. “You’re not helping things. Stop! We’ll get this worked out. Go get Rudy! Get him here, now!” He released her, allowing her to bolt for the back door.

  Outside, on the street, Ethyl’s neighbors were starting to gather, trying to ascertain what was going on. What were the police doing here? This was a peaceful neighborhood. It was also the moment when Mickey arrived. Driving slowly past the house, he took in the police cars and the commotion on the front porch. He stopped and grabbed a small pair of binoculars off the seat and glassed the house. The police were arresting someone. Who? Some old lady. It was then that he caught sight of Daniel standing on the porch with his head bandaged and carrying a white cane.

  “So laddie yah dinna die after all... and yur be blind too.” Mickey grinned with anticipation. He pictured himself killing the kid, blowing his head off from two feet away. And the kid not even knowing he was there! God, the thought of that made him almost piss his pants.

  Unexpectedly a cop car drove past, spooking Mickey. He dropped the binoculars and slipped the car into drive, slowly pulling away. There was too much going on right now and he couldn’t afford to be stopped for something stupid, like gawking at a police scene. Besides, he knew where Daniel lived. He’d just come back later when it was dark.

  * * * *

  Rudy pleaded with the officers until he was blue in the face. “I just don’t see why she can’t stay here... this is her home.”

  Sir, I understand,” noted the female officer. “I have children myself. But she’s a minor without an adult relative.”

  “What about her cousin?” asked Rudy. “He’s twenty-one.”

  The officer looked at Daniel. He was sitting on the front porch next to Katie sweating profusely, shivering−face white as a ghost. “You mean the sick-looking blind kid? Come on, he barely looks like he can take care of himself, much less her. Look, it’s outta my hands anyway. Protective Services will be here shortly − you can take it up with them.”

  She turned and walked to her squad car. The conversation was over.

  Exasperated, Rudy returned to the house. “How yah feelin’ kid?” he asked Daniel.

  “Shitty, but I’ll be all right,” answered Daniel.

  Sitting on the steps next to Katie, Rudy apologized to the girl. “I’m sorry, honey. I tried to get them to let you stay here, but it’s a no go. Protective Services will be here soon.

  Katie began to cry. “I don’t want to... I’m scared...”

  Rudy put his arms around her. “Katie, Honey. We don’t have time for this. I really need you to be strong now − you hear me. I’ve already called an attorney friend. He’s got connections. We’ll have your Grandma out in no time, Tuesday morning at the latest. It’d be sooner but the holiday’s screwing things up... right now you need to hang in there. Can you do that for me?”

  Katie nodded her head and sucked it up. “I’ll try.”

  Unexpectedly, from the other side, Daniel heaved, throwing up into the flower bed alongside the steps. “God,” he complained. “I’m so dizzy... and cold... I need to lie down.” He tried to stand, but couldn’t, forcing Rudy and Katie to grab him. They helped him up and took him inside to his room.

  “You going to be okay?” asked Katie, concern written all over her face.

  Daniel nodded, “Yeah, I just need to rest.”

  They laid him on the bed.

  “I’ll get the dishpan, just in case,” said Katie.

  She left the room leaving Rudy to watch over Daniel. The old man was flustered and complaining to himself about everything that was going on. “God damn, first Ethyl and now this. Lot of shit, if yah ask me.”

  Daniel wanted to apologize, but couldn’t. A minute later Katie returned with the dishpan and Daniel’s cell phone. She put the pan on the floor and set the phone on the night table. “I’m putting your phone right next to you so I can reach you later,” she whispered to him.

  Daniel didn’t answer immediately. He was shivering away and struggling to pull the covers over himself. “K-K-Katie?”

  “Yes.”

  “My eyes hurt... Aunt Ethyl said she left some medicine in the fridge... some eye

  drops.

  “I’ll go get ‘em.”

  When Katie returned, Daniel was out cold, shivering with a fever. She felt his head−it was hot. Taking the eyedrops she read the instructions, shook the bottle, and opened it. Lifting the gauze cov
ering his eyes she placed several drops in each eye. The red liquid was quickly absorbed and Katie was amazed by what she saw. Just underneath the white scar tissue was the vague outline of a pupil.

  “Wow,” she commented. “I think it’s working.”

  “What’s that?” asked Rudy.

  “Oh nothing, I think the medicine Nanna made for Daniel is working−I certainly hope so.”

  Setting the eyedrops on the night stand Katie covered Daniel with the blanket. She was about to leave when the bottle rolled off and fell onto the floor. That’s no good, she thought. Retrieving them, she lifted the blanket and stuffed them into his pants pocket.

  * * * *

  It was late afternoon when Mickey returned to Los Gatos. Driving through the neighborhood, he cased the area making sure things were calm and peaceful, and when he passed the Santini home he saw only one car out front. It wasn’t the cops − he could see that. The vehicle had ‘Protective Services’ written across its side. Still, it made him cautious. Parking along the roadside he watched the house through his binoculars and waited.

  As the afternoon faded, he occupied himself snorting blow and munching burgers. He was in no hurry. Finally, the car from Protective Services left, leaving the house isolated. The kid was nowhere in sight, only an old man and a dog. Mickey continued to bide his time waiting for nightfall. He wanted the kill to be clean with no witnesses.

  Finally, it was dark enough. Reaching into the glove box Mickey grabbed the 45, his gloves and the silencer. He screwed the silencer onto the barrel, then checked the house again. Several lights were on and the moon was rising.