by Jason Austin
As the present Kelmer proudly watched the recording, the sound of his own voice became whiter with every syllable. For in the background, he noticed Dana Holliman remove her glasses and stroke her lip with the frames. The gesture was subtle, but noticeable enough to any viewer. Dana seemed oblivious to the camera, her eyes almost on fire. It provoked a similar reaction in the flesh-and-blood Kelmer.
“That’s astonishing, Richard,” Glenda said.
Kelmer blinked back to reality, clicking off the recording.
“That man couldn’t walk at all, before that implant?”
“No. Though, I must admit, Cassius was a p...particularly stubborn case. He had a habit of spitting his apple juice on the nurses who tried to start him on his physical therapy.”
“It seems something like that should’ve made big news in the medical world.”
“It would have if I had been able to perfect it or at least owned the patents. But the corporate heads don't operate without total control. I...I wanted to dedicate more time to the implant, but Wallace extended me only so much opportunity, insisting that I prioritize the cloning projects. I thought I could win him over by convincing him the implant was more practical. Since it didn’t carry any controversial procedures or implementations, like the cloning, it wouldn’t be subject to the same regulatory problems, and it could be easily patented.” Kelmer paused, looking angry for the first time. “Then not long after I presented this demonstration to him, he mothballed it. He told me it would be too expensive to produce as it was...and that he'd help me develop a less costly model after we'd made more progress on the cloning.” He sighed grievous. “I was so stupid. I handed him everything on a silver platter.”
“Handed him what?”
Kelmer squared his chest. “I...I helped Wallace manipulate tons of genetic stock for the cloning projects. We created thousands of replicated bodies in all different stages of growth. All we had to do was have viable, sup...perior tissue samples. It had gotten easier over the past few years, but the closer we came to not needing surrogate mothers, the tougher the laws became.”
“Surrogate mothers aren’t necessary anymore?”
“N...n...not for Millenitech. It’s among its most closely guarded secrets. I...I helped make it a reality so Wallace would reconsider the improvements I...I was making on my implant. It was definitely crossing the legal line. As if that meant anything to him. E...everybody thinks the government made laws against human cloning because it’s immoral or unnatural—that’s b...b...bunk. They just don’t want somebody else beating them to it! Who better to get in bed with than Wallace?”
Glenda was astounded. “The government knows Wallace is trying to make human clones?” she asked
“Maybe, maybe not,” Kelmer answered. “It’s a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. But, they’re not stupid; the generals and pencil pushers alike can see the potential advantage in being the first country to have human cloning perfected.” Kelmer pulled at his neck. “But even if Wallace is contracted, I can’t imagine they know about...Dragonfly.”
“Dragonfly?” Xavier asked.
“Yes. I'm sorry...I...I'm getting ahead of myself. You see, one morning, I discovered that some of my personal computer files at BioCore had been compromised. I...I had stored some of my more recent design specs there for the sake of convenience. I suspected Wallace right away. I think he was getting suspicious of me when my work slowed...but I was just putting in more off-hours on the implant. I assumed he no longer trusted my results on the cloning projects and thought I was holding out on him...but when I checked, I saw that the files he’d copied were the updated specs on my implant, not the cloning protocols. I...I was incensed. To demand my attention to his priorities was one thing, but to steal my research out of petty anger was...” Kelmer stopped to let the steam out of his ears. “Anyway, I figured one g...good hack deserved another. Many of the advanced encryption programs Wallace used were created by a team from the university—colleagues of mine.” He paused. “That’s when I found it.”
“Found what?” Glenda asked impatiently. She could barely stand it anymore and was desperate for him to get to the point.
“Dragonfly. It was all there: how they perfected the cloning process, who the clones were, and who had commissioned them.” Kelmer braced himself as if what he was going to say next was either too painful or too embarrassing. “And he was using a redesigned version of my implant to control them.”
Glenda and Xavier glanced at each other.
“What do you mean control them?” Xavier asked Kelmer.
“My implant is actually a very sophisticated n...neuro-computer. It’s a leap forward in biocompatible nanotechnology. I...I built it to become an integral part of the brain’s function, beyond just patchwork for damaged neurons. It’s like nothing that has ever existed.” For a moment, Kelmer’s bloodshot eyes expressed what could only be described as pride. Then, just as quickly, the spark dissolved. “It also gave Wallace exactly what he’d been looking for—an access port to the cerebral cortex.”
Invisible question marks flashed above Xavier and Glenda’s heads.
“The cerebral cortex is the area of the brain that primarily deals with perception of sensations, memory, learning and reasoning,” Kelmer explained. “Without its proper function, a person is essentially nonhuman...thoughtless.”
“Like a blank slate,” Xavier said, enkindling with comprehension and equal alarm.
“Exactly. The computer program I created builds a s...series of intricate commands into data-streams that are designed to resonate with the natural alpha and theta waves produced in the human brain. The implant helps translate those waves into new neural patterns. So all it takes is the proper program piped right into the subject. No months’ worth of training or neurolinguistic programs or tortuous brainwashing; just a straight feed.”
“Training? What do you mean training? Like military?”
“What else would the government want with them? They've been trying to remove the human factor in their soldiers and operatives since time immemorial.”
“Why call it Dragonfly?”
“Dragonflies are totems of rebirth in some a...ancient eastern philosophies. In this case it's a highly inaccurate and deplorable misuse of symbolism.”
“Okay. Well, Wallace's ignorance aside, does this Dragonfly work?”
“It still has its problems. Some test subjects didn’t integrate with the program as well as others. Certain traits wavered in certain brain types. Some would be more responsive to the physical attributes like heightened reflexes, superior strength and flexibility, while others melded more with the behavioral side of the program, like excessive senses of order and precision. Wallace even developed an uplink to program the clones remotely.”
Xavier blinked. “Holy shit, a remote-controlled person?”
“Jones,” Glenda said bluntly. She'd just been walloped by a major flashback. “Jones was one of them.” She threw a look at Kelmer. “Richard, how long did you say it took to create one of those clones?”
“I didn't. Did I?” Kelmer shrugged. “But it had gotten down to a week by the time I left. I...It can be difficult because you need highly viable and preferably varying sources of DNA, to get through the filtering process. A few strands of hair or a dollop of blood simply won’t do it. You need a well of fresh DNA to go back to until the process registers a non-defective clone.”
Xavier watched Glenda immerse in thought. “What makes you think Jones was a clone?” he asked her.
“When I first met Jones, it was his first day back on the job after a week's vacation,” she answered. “He'd reorganized Roberts's desk with precision neatness. When he started flipping out back at the motel, it seemed like a deadness came over him. It was like he wasn’t human.”
Xavier turned to Kelmer. “Did you know Wallace had a bottled cop, doctor?” Xavier asked him.
“No. Though I'm not the least bit surprised,” Kelmer answered.
“W
ell, I sure as hell am. How in God's name does a guy manage to replace a cop with a mindless clone without anyone noticing?”
Kelmer looked at Xavier more worried than ever. “That’s kind of where it gets worse.”
Chapter 43
“Once Wallace a...a...announced he was going to build BioCore, everybody began pooling their money to commercialize their research, especially the hospitals and universities,” Kelmer said. “He came in like a tornado—sucking up everything, from entrenched companies to the small startups who barely got a f...foot in the door. It was a major means of insuring his access. When...he c...created the BioCore, he merged the major local hospitals; the biggest, of course, being the Cleveland Clinic where people from all over the world come to seek treatment—foreign dignitaries, famous personalities, rich and influential people from just about everywhere. With Wallace given such free reign over Cleveland's medical community, he could create a palette of genetic material that would make the CIA sit up in awe.”
“Oh, my god,” Glenda said breathless.
“Hold on,” Xavier said. “You’re saying Wallace hasn’t just been perfecting cloning, but he’s been creating clones of international VIPs?”
“I...I don’t know if he has or if he’s just planning to,” Kelmer said. “The cloning process that...I...I helped develop still has to go through a number of filtering stages to weed out the defects. The process has a tendency to over-activate DNA, which causes previously recessive genetic flaws to crop up even in the final stages. I’d imagine he wouldn’t risk taking things that far unless the clones were more reliable. However, given what I got from his encrypted files...I can’t be sure.”
“I don't understand. If you didn't know about Jones beforehand, then why did you tell Glenda to avoid the police?”
“Because of Miles Gabriel, Wallace's lawyer. Not long after I started working for M...Millenitech one of its lab technicians was badly injured after safeguards failed because Wallace had cut corners with a contractor. The technician later decided to file a civil suit against Wallace for negligence. His case was pretty strong and had the potential to do some real damage to the company's stock value. A few days later, the lab tech's sixteen year-old daughter was pulled over while riding in a car with some friends. She ended up being arrested for possession of three ounces of Halloxiphen.”
“What?” Glenda asked.
“Technical term for H-ball,” Xavier answered. “Three ounces would have been enough to get her locked up until she turned twenty-one.”
“Four kids in that c...car and she was the only one arrested,” Kelmer said. “Her father met with Wallace in his office the next day where he agreed to discontinue the civil suit. Two days l...later the charges against his daughter were dropped.” Kelmer paused, disheartened. “Everyone knows Gabriel has cops on the take. That whole police scandal back in Cleveland? It's nothing compared to what Gabriel knows. Wallace owns the business world and Gabriel the legal. Together they're unstoppable and there's no place they can't reach. After seeing the names on the list, I know that now.”
“What list?” Xavier asked.
Kelmer handed him a nanobook from his pocket.
Xavier tapped the screen and Glenda stood over his shoulder as the first page projected several inches in front of them.
“It is a list of names,” Xavier said.
They panned the display, letting the translucent image slowly scroll.
“These people are all dead,” Xavier noted. He looked up at Kelmer. “Wallace knew them?”
“Some,” Kelmer answered. “Others, I can't say for sure.”
Xavier returned to the display. “Ahmad Kassim?”
“That prince from the middle east,” Glenda said. “He was killed eight months ago in a coup attempt on his country. It was international news. A group of Islamic fundamentalists stormed the royal home trying to assassinate his family. They managed to get everyone to safety, except the prince who was mortally wounded in the attempt.” She looked further down the list. “And look at this, Deanna Robinson.”
“The singer?”
“She died four months ago from a drug overdose. They found her in the bathtub of a five star hotel...all alone. I was a fan.”
“Tamashii Kurosawa, I know that name. He was reputed to be the second in command of the Yakuza.”
“The what?”
“The Yakuza; Japanese mafia. I remember hearing about this one. He was killed seven months ago by rival gangsters who were fighting for control over drug territory in Taiwan. The rival leader supposedly took his head as a trophy.”
“How do you know all that?”
“I had friends in the military that fought back and forth through that neck of the woods. Political conditions aren’t the only thing a soldier is required to know or eventually finds out in the process. Where did you get this, Doc?”
“It’s one of the few bits of information that were connected to Dragonfly that I managed to copy before the security fail-safes kicked in.” Kelmer said.
“The foreign names make me think black market bioweapons,” Xavier said. “It would sure as shit explain Wallace’s meteoric rise to the top of the Fortune 500. And there’s no point in making clones of people everyone already knows are dead. It must be some kind of hit list. But this has got to be the weirdest-looking troupe I’ve ever seen. What could these people possibly have in common, that would make Wallace go gunning for them?”
Glenda scanned the page further and stopped abruptly with a gasp.
“What is it?” Xavier asked.
She swallowed hard and pointed her trembling finger at the nanobook as if it was a set mousetrap. “The last name on the list,” she said.
Xavier read the name. “Peter Simonton, the steel manufacturer...he was killed in that plane crash a few days ago.” He paused, trying to analyze Glenda's reaction. “Glenda, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No...but I might have heard from one.”
Xavier nodded. “Okay, that clears things up. What are you talking about, babe?”
Glenda stepped away from Xavier in the manner of that scared little girl who used to back out of a room whenever she’d gotten on Jeremiah Jameson’s last nerve. “He called me the day this all started,” she confessed.
“Who?” Xavier asked.
“Peter Simonton. He called me and left a message on my machine; the same day.”
“Jeez-o-man, you knew him? Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”
“About what? How was I supposed to know he had anything to do with this?”
Xavier realized she was right. “Well, what did he say?”
Glenda felt a touch of vertigo sweep over her and she steadied herself. She gripped her elbows and gazed downward. Of all the things she would now have to reveal. Of all the names that could have been on that list.
“He called to apologize,” she said begrudgingly. She curled her lips over her teeth. “I met him two years ago when I became a receptionist at his company. He was charming, rich, powerful and...”
“Married,” Xavier interrupted. He caught the infatuated overtone like a punch in the gut.
“I didn’t intend for it to happen,” she said ashamed. She directed her statement at Xavier personally, looking straight at him. “And it was the only time I’ve ever done anything like that! After a while, I began to see exactly what I was to him—some sort of symbol of his masculinity, and something to cure a midlife crisis. He said he loved me and that I couldn't have been more wrong. He even gave me the old line about leaving his wife. I knew it wouldn’t happen, but even if it did, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be Glenda Jameson the happy home wrecker; so I broke it off. He’d been calling off and on for days trying to get me back. The last time he called was the day he was killed. He said he was going out of town and he wanted me to come with him. I guess, when I think about it, he did sound strange, but I thought he was just...being Peter.”
Glenda averted her eyes from Xavier and waited.
Say something, she thought, anything. Call me a name. Say you’re disappointed in me. Just say something.
“Maybe that’s the connection,” Xavier finally said. “Simonton.”
Glenda looked hurt.
“Glenda, did Simonton ever talk to you about Wallace, or about Millenitech?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Peter hated Wallace,” she sighed. “He called him a vampire. He said he was bleeding him dry of government money. Said he’d stolen every influence he had worked for years to sew up—the governor, and the mayor. Peter would’ve done anything to get it back.”
“Maybe he tried and Wallace retaliated.” Xavier turned to Kelmer. “Doc, was this all you managed to get from Wallace’s computer?”