Alien Education

by Gini Koch

  “Ah, but you were involved at one point. Which leads me to my next demand. I want to know who’s running things against us in the NSA, and by that, I mean, who’s managing the Bots and such with Janelle Gardiner and, presumably, Amos Tobin. You know, the initiatives that have been causing us problems that you claim aren’t being run by you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, Trevor, Trevor, Trevor. And it was all going so well. And now? Now I have to tell Ben to kill you. Just don’t get any blood or oil or whatever’s in their veins onto my dress, Ben, please and thank you.”

  Really wasn’t sure if Siler planned to kill Trevor or had just taken the Baddest Cop role. He’d worked well with me during Operation Immigration when we were flipping Kozlow, so chances were he was just acting. Didn’t want to bet against him, though. Assassins could be touchy, after all, and he appeared to have decades worth of anger to work out.

  “Wait!” Trevor sounded freaked. Siler had probably twitched or something.

  But the music changed to “Even Better Than the Real Thing” by U2. The lyrics dealt with second chances and so forth, so hopefully this meant Trevor had more for us.

  “I’m listening.”

  “And I’m serious. I don’t know who’s behind the Bots. That was Madeleine’s project initially, and it was she who I assisted. As we took casualties and plans were being foiled, I turned toward the cyborg project, she brought in Monica Strauss. Who then brought in Janelle Gardiner once Madeleine was dead. But Monica and I were not close, and she had someone she took into her confidence long before Janelle. She was quite cagey about it and I never met them. I don’t even know if they’re a man or a woman. Whoever they are, they’re expert at hiding in the shadows, and this is coming from someone who’s been hidden in the shadows on this planet longer than two of you have been alive.”

  “Why haven’t you bothered to find out this person’s identity?” White asked. “Having been alive longer than you’ve been hiding, that seems remarkably unlike you.”

  “I had no need. They didn’t interfere with my plans, they didn’t try to do anything to me, and if they were trying to discover who I was, they weren’t successful.”

  “As far as you know,” I felt compelled to point out. “I mean, you didn’t think we knew who you were and all that when we already did.”

  “True. As far as I know. But I don’t know who they are. If they know who I am, they haven’t bothered me or interfered with me, either.”

  “And yet, Stephanie’s lair was right by the NSA black site, and she was siphoning off their power. Now, try again.”

  “I know of the Bot projects,” he said peevishly. “I don’t know who was working with Monica and is now working with Janelle. Whoever they are, they’re the brains behind the Bots, however, because Monica was no Madeleine, and Janelle is no Monica. And Stephanie created her lair all by herself,” he added proudly.

  Wasn’t sure that Trevor should be selling either Strauss or Gardiner short. Cartwright had been an expert at doing the woman thing of pretending the men around her were smarter so that she could get what she wanted, and I doubted she’d brought in someone who was less able with that technique than she was. Trevor might be asexual, but he was still male and still very impressed with himself. However, that line of questioning seemed tapped out.

  “So, when did Stephanie find out about her new grandfather?” Wanted to see if what I’d been assuming—that Trevor found her after she’d stolen Drax’s helicarrier—was correct.

  “Once she’d proven that she had what it took. She’d taken that ridiculous Gustav Drax’s machine along with hostages, and she’d created her own androids. I knew it was time, and I reached out.”

  “You make it sound so Hallmark and homespun, I could shed a tear.” Always nice to be right. “Okay, so, what do you know about the other Shadow Person hanging around? Are they alien or human?”

  “Honestly, again, I don’t know. But I lean toward human. Monica was not a fan of aliens and Janelle was less so. They both despised LaRue.”

  “Wow, a mark in both their favors. But they all loved Ronald Yates.”

  The music changed to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by the Rolling Stones. Interesting choice. Hoped I’d get what I needed, then.

  “True enough. However, Ronald had something that LaRue lacked—charisma. LaRue was attractive to men, and that was how she worked her way in where she wanted to. But Ronald’s charisma affected everyone.”

  “Yes, yes, he was a great man, blah, blah, blah. Great at evil. At any rate, what do they call them, the Bots?”

  “Ah, they call them Bots. Why are you asking that?”

  “Missus Martini, again I’m impressed with your ability to mind meld with our enemies.”

  “Me, too,” Siler added. “So, can I kill him yet? I spent several hours sharpening this blade. It’ll slice through steel. I’d love to see how fast it slices through flesh, bone, and wiring.”

  Trevor went pale, or at least he looked more pasty in the low light. “Ben, did you lower the lights or were they always this creepy?”

  “That was me. I liked this ambiance better.”

  “No argument. It definitely says ‘someone is dying here tonight,’ and I just wanted to make sure whose side the lights were on, so to speak.”

  “I can give you something better than whoever’s working with Janelle now,” Trevor said.

  Yawned, because Charmaine had really helped me channel my Inner Mean Girl. “And what might that be?”

  “The name of the person behind the Club Fifty-One True Believers.”

  CHAPTER 77

  YAWNED AGAIN. “We know who’s running the True Believers. Harvey Gutermuth with a big assist from Farley Pecker.”

  “They’re the titular heads, yes. But they have a backer, someone who’s funding them worldwide.”

  Perhaps they did. The first Club 51 leader, Howard Taft, had had Reid backing him, after all. Why assume that Gutermuth wasn’t just another puppet? “I’m listening.”

  “Myron Van Dyke.”

  “The most boring dude on the planet? Pull the other one and all that.”

  “No, it’s true. He’s their silent partner.”

  “In alien hating?”

  Trevor looked at White. “Does this shock you?”

  “Not really,” White admitted. “Not in that sense. Hatred is an odd thing, and it manifests in many ways. I wonder, though, if you’re being truthful, Trevor. I mean, I, for one, find it difficult to believe that any A-C, no matter who but especially you, would not build in a fail-safe. You’re telling us that the cyborgs have no self-destruct mechanisms or kill switches. I find that hard to believe.”

  “We aren’t doing this to create an army.”

  Snorted. Couldn’t help myself. Siler laughed softly. “Yeah, I’m with the First Lady on that one ‘Uncle’ Trevor.”

  “Yes, Stephanie was,” Trevor said patiently. “However, since you took all of her test subjects—easily, I might add—you helped me to show her that my way is the better way. No one receiving the Treatment has anything to fear from us in terms of becoming a zombie.”

  “So, you’re saying once a cyborg, someone’s untouchable?” Knew he was trying to distract us, but the information was necessary, so I’d let him think he was getting away with it. The music changed to “Show Me What I’m Looking For” by Carolina Liar. Wasn’t sure if that meant it was time to question Trevor about everything, mistrust anything he said, or both. Decided to bet on both.

  “Oh, no. Not at all. As Benjamin is aptly proving, the removal of the head is quite a permanent measure. Diseases are unlikely, though possible. However, stress is the biggest factor. Aneurisms are a great risk—should one form and burst, the wiring will be negatively affected, just like the rest of the area where the aneurism is. And due to the wiring, medical aid will be ha
mpered if not impossible.”

  “So . . . what? You and Stephanie are the only doctors who can cure these sorta people and cyborgs need to keep their cool?”

  “In essence, yes, at least in terms of staying relaxed. Just as it was a wise way to avoid being targeted by a parasite. Being calm is usually the best course of action.”

  My experience said that rage was my friend, but everyone was different. “Gotcha. So, as long as the cyborgs keep cool and don’t force someone to decapitate them, they’ll live forever?”

  “In a sense. Everything wears out. The Treatment just ensures that the minds and bodies will wear out much more slowly. The wiring enhances many things, including keeping bones strong and skin supple.”

  “Amazing. And yet, again, you two are their only choice for medical help?”

  “At the moment. If all goes according to plan, however, there will be a Rattoppare hospital, and then many.”

  “Oh my God. You want to franchise this!”

  He beamed at me. “Yes, I do. Imagine the possibilities when anyone can live three times longer, or more! Think of what could be accomplished, if the fear of death and the ravages of disease, age, and time were removed.”

  He clearly believed in this—it showed in his voice and expression. He was practically quivering with excitement. He also had a point. “Yeah, I can see it. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop onto someone’s head, though.”

  “Benjamin is a good example of what extra longevity can do.”

  “I don’t have wiring,” Siler growled.

  “No, you do not. However, you have far more potential than you’ve realized.”

  “Like what?” Siler asked, still sounding ready to cut off Trevor’s head and live with the mystery of whatever was being insinuated.

  “You’ll find out, I’m sure. If you try and expand your mind.”

  “Speaking of minds,” said more to keep Siler from losing it than a lack of interest in all the wonders Trevor felt we hadn’t discovered about Nightcrawler, “Ansom Somerall and Talia Lee claim to not know who put wires into their brains, or how they even got there. See, I’d be buying all you said a lot more if I didn’t know they were working with Janelle, meaning that all of them are also working with you and Stephanie.”

  Trevor looked concerned. “I didn’t do that to them. The Bots are in competition with us. We’re not working together on anything and haven’t been for quite some time.”

  “How are they competition?” White asked. “They don’t seem the same.”

  “Creating a duplicate of yourself to do whatever dirty or boring work you want is fine if what you want to do is fool weaker minds.” Trevor could not sound more derisive if he tried. “However, they don’t think. They’re programmed. Cyborgs, on the other hand, are autonomous. You, you yourself, could live forever, or you could have a facsimile of yourself that likely has a longer lifespan, to use the term loosely. What would an intelligent person choose?”

  “Whatever’s behind Door Number Three, only I’m betting that’s cloning.”

  “Not anymore.” Now Trevor sounded pleased.

  “Beg pardon?”

  “No more cloning. Not as was being done. You destroyed all of that. You people took all the research, and then you destroyed all the facilities. Androids, Bots, or cyborgs—those are your choices now.”

  Sincerely doubted that Trevor the Tinkerer had nothing up his sleeve in regards to this. Was super positive that the Rattoppare brand extension was going to be cloning. However, now wasn’t the time to push it. I still had too many questions that needed some sort of answers.

  “So, if we’re to believe you about Ansom and Talia, then Stephanie’s the one who wired their brains. Unless you’re going to tell me that there’s someone else with your extremely proprietary abilities out there.”

  “No, there is not.” He looked and sounded just like my dad had any time he’d caught me, Amy, or Sheila doing something he’d pointedly told us not to do. Chuckie had never received this tone from Dad, but the rest of us had, many times. “I will speak with her. That is not what we agreed to. At all.”

  “Uh huh. So, what else has Stephanie done that you supposedly didn’t approve of? Stolen Titan’s miniaturization tech for you so no one else could have it?”

  Received a very derisive look. “Why would I need her to steal their tech for me when I can recreate it at any time if I want to?”

  “You’re saying you were a part of that?”

  “Yes, of course. Antony did marvelous work, as did Herbert Gaultier. But still, I was involved. I can create that tech at any time and likely improve upon it. I haven’t because we don’t need weapons.”

  “Trying so hard to believe you, and yet it’s just so difficult.”

  “You’ll believe what you want. That’s what people do.” The music changed to “Stranger Things Have Happened” by the Foo Fighters, so apparently Algar agreed.

  “Yes, I suppose it is. So, where is Stephanie, exactly?”

  “Right now? I have no idea. In France, I assume.”

  “Uh huh. So where was she earlier in the week? Because I don’t believe that Ansom and Talia have taken a recent trip to France wherein they were captured, wires were put into their brains, and they were released, all of which they now don’t remember.”

  He sighed. “I assume that Stephanie disobeyed me and came to the States.”

  “We have every agency looking for her,” White said. “She’s one of America’s Most Wanted.”

  “She may be, but, honestly Richard, why do you pretend that the humans are as bright as we are? They aren’t.”

  Had about every Dazzler in existence to say that Trevor was wrong, since they were all about brains and brain capacity and most of them panted after humans, but whatever. Allowed him to enjoy his superiority.

  “I disagree,” White said calmly. “As always, I believe you sell humanity quite short.”

  “Well, they’re easy enough to fool. Stephanie is well aware of how to disguise herself if she has to. I didn’t want her to come here, mind you. I want her to remain in safety while we build up her skills and expertise. However, children will do what they will.”

  “And when the cat’s away the mice will play. Yeah. Speaking of that . . . you know anyone who’s hugely into nursery rhymes?”

  CHAPTER 78

  THIS QUESTION THREW TREVOR. Understandably. He gaped at me for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I truly don’t believe I understood your question.”

  “Nursery rhymes. Do you know anyone who likes to use them a lot? The way you like to say ‘imagine the possibilities’ and the late and totally unlamented Cliff Goodman liked to say ‘part to play’ and so on.”

  He appeared to give this thought. “I don’t know. However, I believe that Stephanie mentioned someone like this. When I return to her, I’ll ask and advise you.”

  “I love the assumptive close there, but we haven’t agreed to do a catch and release on you yet, Trevor, so cool your jets. I’d like to go back to how you know Myron Van Dyke is the one funding Club Fifty-One.”

  “Well, he’s really funding the church they’re associated with, but that church funnels the money to the True Believers.”

  “Super, good to know. What you’re avoiding saying, though, is how you, you specifically, know this. And you tell me that, or we don’t let you go. Ever.”

  “Fine. You’ll find out anyway, per our agreement. He and I have been discussing him getting the Treatment. The Treatment is not inexpensive. Therefore, funds have to be confirmed. While he and I were so confirming, he received some texts from both Farley Pecker and Harvey Gutermuth, discussing funds and funding. It was quite clear that they were used to getting money from him.”

  “And they didn’t code their messages?”

  Trevor shot me a derisive look. “Of c
ourse they were coded. And of course I decoded them. They’re not smart enough to use a code that someone with actual brainpower couldn’t crack. I include the three of you and your Mister Reynolds in the group that is smart enough, by the way. So, should you want him to investigate, I’m sure the CIA can easily tap their phones or whatever.”

  “Gosh, we’re flattered, and I’m sure we’ll do that and then some.” Time to get Hacker International working on money trails and all that jazz. The music changed to “Mr. Roboto” by Styx. “Since we’re talking about codes and all that, you’ve reminded me of a little enigma I’m betting you can solve for us.” Well, really, Algar had done the reminding, but whatever.

  “Happy to.”

  “I’ll bet. Eugene Montgomery was given robot schematics and told that robots were going to be created to impersonate high government officials. All my people feel that we could make working robots from those plans, but said plans don’t match what’s come out of the Bot Factory. There’s some bizarre logo written in what might be the Anciannas language or might be Z’porrah or just might be humans and A-Cs being funky and imitating Hirschfeld’s artwork. We’ve identified the Gaultier logo in it. Who else’s logos and names are in there?”

  “Everyone you’d expect. Those plans were from the old days, when we were all working as one. We’d planned to do exactly what he was told—replace high rankers with robots we would then control.”

  “What stopped that from moving forward?”

  Got a shot of the “really?” look. “You did.”

  “Mind explaining?”

  “The first robot created was fashioned to look like you.” So the Kitty-Bot’s schematics matched what we’d gotten from Eugene. No need to reverse engineer her now. Butler and Maurer could rest easy. “A test run that would allow us to get rid of someone who was causing us to waste a great deal of time hiding everything we were doing and everyone we were doing it with.”