In The Defendant's Chair

by Lynn Moon

  “I can’t see a damn thing,” one of the agents said kneeling next to the hole.

  “They’re right there,” Gabe said pointing.

  A fallen tree was the perfect anchor, the rope ladder was dropped into the hole. Lacey was the first out and hugged Gabe.

  “Thanks, friend,” she said with a smile. “Okay guys, your boss is down there, recommend you hop to it.”

  Two agents climbed down to help the others. A couple of the hybrids couldn’t climb and needed to be pulled out. But with a little patience and a few soothing words, everyone was soon walking across the mountaintop to a waiting helicopter. The creatures had never seen such a thing before and were frightened. As they walked, Gabe explained he too was a hybrid. He told them everything the scientists told him. Gabe’s fascinating story seemed to do the trick, because the strange group was soon being whisked to a nearby Air Force base.

  * * * * * *

  Maddie and Vivian waited for everyone to arrive. The room was sterile and made her jumpy. Lacey and Gabe were the first to burst into the room. Strickland stared as the two ran in with several unusual individuals at their sides.

  “We made it,” Nate exclaimed giving Maddie a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get out of this place.”

  “Oh my.” Vivian Strickland smiled at the small unusual group of individuals who were staring at her.

  * * * * * *

  Vivian smiled at the baby. She was something with her long blonde hair and green eyes. The child won her heart.

  “What are we going to do with you?” she whispered into the baby’s ear.

  Strickland eyes widened and she gasped as a soft voice echoed through her mind.

  “She spoke to you?” Marty asked smiling.

  “Yes,” Strickland replied staring into the baby’s eyes. “You are very special and I promise to take good care of you.”

  The others sat quietly on a couch and as she studied their faces, she said softly, “And I promise I will protect all of you with my life.”

  “Any ideas what to do with them?” Lewis asked as Greghardt paced the room.

  “Loomsbury said they can’t reproduce,” he replied. “So we don’t have that to worry about.”

  “I don’t believe they’ll be the problem,” Nate replied. “It’s the normal wackos who’ll hunt them down.”

  “What if?” Lewis said mostly to himself. “What if?”

  Chapter 95

  THE KNOCK ON the door made everyone jump. Alex stared at Early and concern flooded his eyes. She could see he was scared and it made her stomach tighten. Obviously, she was not supposed to be there. The girls refused to leave her lap since they woke. Daren sat as close refusing to let go of her hand.

  “Now what?” Alex stated staring at the door.

  “You’ll have to answer it sometime,” she whispered kissing the girls on their heads and squeezing Daren’s hand.

  The pounding continued but with more force.

  “Who is it?” Alex yelled.

  “This is the FBI,” a stern voice answered. “Back away from the door.”

  Before Alex could take a step, the door burst open and several men ran into the room with their guns drawn. Lights flashed everywhere and Early grabbed hold of her children. The girls started to cry as Daren jumped in front of them. No one was ever taking his mother away again.

  “Early!” Drake yelled running to the small family huddling on the sofa. “Early, are you okay?”

  Tears fell down Early’s face as she stared proudly into her attorney’s eyes. “I told you they were alive,” she cried. “I told you.”

  “You told me,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks. “You told me.”

  Alex’s arms were yanked behind him and someone read him his rights. Early flinched. Her love still burned for him but the pain of deceit was too strong. She wasn’t sure if she should cry or feel sorry.

  “Come, sweetheart,” Drake said to Early. “We need to get you out of here.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked. “I don’t have a home anymore.”

  “Mrs. Sutton,” a warm voice said from behind Drake. “I’m Dr. Loomsbury and I’m here to take you and your family into protective custody.”

  “You’re going into a protection program sweetheart,” Drake explained. “You’re safe now.”

  “Do I have to go back to jail?” she asked between tears.

  “No,” Loomsbury replied. “It is all over Mrs. Sutton. But we must hurry.”

  Chapter 96

  NESTLE STRAIGHTENED HIS tie and studied himself in the mirror. He was proud of his accomplishments thus far. His decision to remove Spangleholtz from the position as director at the Washington hospital gave him the most comfort. Although the recent deaths of the women were still fresh in his mind, Nestle smiled. Marty Starling, Early Sutton and the other women were now just a horrible nightmare he could soon forget. From this day forward, Nestle knew he could focus all his efforts on a more important matter—changing the human genome to eradicate disease and illness forever.

  His research proved that with a little tweaking, the human RNA could be stabilized. Then, he, Dr. Ronald Nestle, would be revered as a god. Ever since he was inducted into the society and learned of their secrets, Nestle realized their goals matched his. After all, the overall bases of their theories were not that different. But, no matter how much he argued his stance, those stupid idiots just wouldn’t listen to him. He had no other choice but to finish his important project himself.

  Nestle glanced down at the bound manuscript. He read the title out loud, Retyping of Heritable Mutations.

  “Who are you talking to now, Roland,” Dr. Crystal Derrier asked as she stood in the darkness.

  Nestle didn’t respond but sighed, “And who let you in?”

  Derrier swayed her hips as she strolled into the dim light. “It’s always so dark in here, Roland. Are you afraid the light might show off your imperfections?”

  “Again Crystal, why are you here?”

  “So touchy, Ro,” Derrier sneered looking down at his desk. “Retyping of Heritable Mutations, huh? That sounds like interesting reading. How long do you have this checked out for?”

  “It’s mine,” he stated lifting his chin with an air of pride.

  “You mean you bought it?” she asked as she picked it up.

  “No, I wrote it.”

  “You write?” she smirked skimming through the pages. “Let’s see… chromosome abnormalities involves the loss or gain of chromosomes or breakage and rejoining of chromatids...” She read it out loud. “Sounds boring.” Derrier tossed the manuscript back onto the table.

  “My theories will change the world for the better,” he stated with a strangeness reflecting in his eyes.

  “Really?” she mused. “And how do you figure that, Ro? Does this mean you’ve finally decided to kill yourself and rid our planet of one less varmint?”

  Derrier took a seat and crossed her legs. She stared at him as though expecting an honest answer. When none came, she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You,” she replied. Her face scrunched as though experiencing a foul order.

  “What do you want, doctor?” He sat in his chair. Nestle studied the woman who sat on the other side of his desk. He never really understood who hired her. But then again, when it came to the society no one really knows who’s running the show. It was important for him to tread lightly. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be around long enough to apply his theories and become a god, which was his true destiny.

  “I’m here,” Derrier began, “because you’ve been a naughty boy, Roland.” Without giving the man a chance to respond, she stood and straightened her skirt. She took in a deep breath and adjusted her jacket. Her long dark hair rolled in gentle waves as she turned to leave. But one quick glance over her shoulder gave Nestle a chill that iced his soul.

  “Be a good boy, Roland,” she whispered, then after an ominous grin she was gone.

  “I h
ate that woman.” He glanced through his manuscript. “I need to fix this section,” he whispered grabbing a pen.

  Chapter 97

  LOOMSBURY LOOKED PALE in the dim light of the darkened room. He glanced over at Greghardt and shook his head.

  “Does he ever get out much?” Lewis whispered.

  “What?” Greghardt asked.

  “The man’s as white as a sheet. Tell him to go outside once in awhile? He looks like death.”

  “Excuse me,” Loomsbury coughed clearing his throat clicking to advance to the next slide. “After reading the manuscript we obtained thanks to our Agent Derrier, I believe I have a better understanding of how our new friends came to be.”

  Loomsbury clicked on the screen again and a copy of the manuscript’s first page revealed the title and author. Retyping of Heritable Mutations by Dr Roland Nestle, Director, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

  “We found this on Dr. Nestle’s office computer,” Lewis spoke up.

  Loomsbury ignored the outburst and continued. “The document describes the insertion of DNA and RNA from other species to correct a human deficiency.”

  “Deficiency?” Lewis asked.

  “Yes,” Loomsbury replied. “Our DNA is remarkable, capable of making billions of healthy individuals. But, at the same time, our DNA is also capable of making people ill. Currently, we have identified and categorized over eight thousand genetic disorders that are passed down to our children. Many are fatal or debilitating, and all are due to a DNA replication error. Many of these errors are detected early and the pregnancy can be terminated, but again, just as many are not discovered until it is too late. DNA degeneration can also cause the human body to be more susceptible to viral infections, those illnesses caused by contagious random strands of RNA that come into contact with the human host.”

  “So how does he do it?” Lewis asked. “How do you create an Elizabeth Starling?”

  “It depends,” Loomsbury replied scratching his head. “According to the manuscript there are two ways. One is through genetic splicing. Select which rungs of the DNA you want to fix, so to speak, and splice in the foreign DNA into that rung. Another method is to create an RNA virus and implant that virus into a fertilized egg… or person. Elizabeth Starling was created by genetic splicing. The boy, Gabe, was created with a virus. Only slight variations can be made with an RNA virus. Massive changes can be accomplished by splicing.”

  “Are there any others?” Lewis asked.

  “Selection of parents I suppose,” Loomsbury surmised. “But no, these are the only two methods covered in this document. However, his theory does discuss mass distribution of an RNA virus into the populous. With the right virus, his ideas could cause dramatic changes overnight. Changes that would occur over and over again forever—mutation.”

  “What kind of changes are you talking about?” Lewis asked rubbing the back of his head. For some reason, he had a very good idea of where this discussion was leading and he didn’t like it.

  “Millions could die,” Loomsbury said lowering his eyes. “A virus is not a living entity as is a bacterium. A virus is just a tiny particle of an RNA strand with a coat of protein.” Loomsbury used his hands to try and explain. “It’s coated in a lipid membrane for protection from the elements. Most are shaped like a ball, but some look like exotic spiders. Viruses don’t contain the enzymes needed to carry out the chemical reactions for life. Instead, viruses carry only one or two enzymes that are used to decode their genetic instructions. A virus must have a host—a plant or an animal. Outside a host, viruses cannot function or reproduce. Therefore, we say viruses are nonliving. It is our own cells that reproduce a virus, our own cells that betray us. And we get sick, or change.”

  “Change?” Lewis repeated.

  “According to his manuscript, Dr. Nestle theorizes his viruses would strengthen the human to be able to withstand the common cold, or under the right condition, die. Dr. Nestle has already classified the human genome into categories from desirable to less desirable. His virus would target the less desirable to eliminate them; burden gone.”

  “And what traits do his less desirable have?” Lewis asked now wondering about the possibilities this manuscript would have on the world if released.

  Loomsbury clicked his screen and a chart displayed with several columns of various colors. He cleared his throat before continuing. “According to Dr. Nestle the human population is categorized into races and then sub-races.” Loomsbury clicked off the screen and turned to the small audience of two men. “I have to be honest. This makes me very nervous. What Dr. Nestle tried to do, but failed, was to put a genetic coding on the poor and undereducated—the underlings of the world. And anyone who truly studies the poor or needy will find they are of the same genome types as all the others. No genetic typing can categorize people into a less desirable.” Loomsbury used his two fingers to create quotations around the word less.

  “I see,” Lewis replied and Greghardt nodded.

  “I’ve studied the data since the start of the human genome project and all we can conclude is that humans are 99.9 percent the same everywhere. It’s only when the DNA degrades for whatever the reason—hereditary, environmental, chemical, emotional,” Loomsbury flung his arms over his head, “just pick a reason and the final DNA result is different. You cannot use genetic testing to determine if a person will end up rich, poor, educated, married; it just doesn’t work that way. We can tell if there’s a genetic flaw such as Down Syndrome or Mitochondrial Disease or Wilson Disease, or the color of the hair, or their eyes,” Loomsbury sat down and rested his head on his hands and cried. “But… but…”

  Lewis walked over to the young doctor. He knelt and whispered into his ear. “My friend, there will always be a Dr. Frankenstein and a Dr. Jeckle in this world. But that is why we have you.”

  Loomsbury dried his eyes on the back of his hands and wiped his nose on his sleeve. After a deep breath he looked into Lewis’s eyes. Tears ran down his face and Lewis could see the fear was real.

  “But you don’t understand,” Loomsbury cried.

  “Unfortunately,” Lewis whispered, “we do.”

  “And,” he begged.

  “And I need you to be strong my friend,” Greghardt added. “We need you to read and re-read that manuscript until you know it by heart. Then go through that crazy man’s electronic files again and again until you can figure out what he’s planning.”

  “Can’t you just arrest him?” Loomsbury cried. “Lock him away?”

  “It is not illegal to be crazy in America,” Lewis replied.

  “That’s never stopped us before,” Loomsbury yelled.

  “No, but we need to know who he’s working with,” Lewis explained. “And if we eliminate Mr. Nutcase too soon, we may lose the ties of those who are pulling his strings.

  Chapter 98

  “YOU WANT TO do what?” Geeshmore stared at Dr. Nestle with pure hatred. “You are in my office now, Roland, and we’re back in DC, so don’t try and pull any society rank here.”

  “Ranking has nothing to do with it,” Nestle replied sitting in front of the director of the National Institute of Health.

  “You had Dr. Spangleholtz removed as one of your problems, then the mothers, and now you want to release a… a virus… to… to cleanse the world… of what you call undesirables? Have you totally lost your mind?”

  “Actually Vernon,” Nestle replied brushing his hair from his face. “I believe my mind is actually starting to clear up. I’m seeing things all too clearly now.”

  * * * * * *

  “Dr. Nestle?” a young man in a gray pinstriped suit with a pink tie said smiling and holding out his hand. “We’re so excited to have you here, sir. I’m Mr. Williamson, Ryan Williamson and I’m the Director.”

  Another brown-noser. Nestle snickered shaking the man’s hand. “Yes, we’ve been meaning to get out here and see your facilities for some time. But just haven’t had the opportunity. I do apologize.” />
  “Nothing to apologize for,” Williamson replied. “The Barker Institute is happy you chose us to service your needs. And we have assigned our two best scientists to your new project. Oh here they are now.”

  A young man and young woman walked toward them wearing white lab coats and holding clipboards. They didn’t smile, but they didn’t frown either. Nestle watched how they walked and instantly liked them.

  “Let me introduce you to our top geneticists, Dr. Brighten and Dr. Harding. Doctors, this is Dr. Roland Nestle of the CDC. He’s in charge of your new project.”

  Tyler held out her hand and Nestle shook it. “Please, call me Tyler.”

  “And you can call me Caiden.” Caiden held out his hand.

  “Nice to meet you Tyler and Caiden,” Nestle replied. “I understand you’ve read the reports? And you’re aware of the urgency and the need of confidentiality in regards to our new project.”

  “Yes sir, we are,” Caiden replied winking at Tyler.

  The group entered a conference room to discuss the urgency as Tyler fumbled with the pen that held the small recording device. As the doors closed, Tyler wondered how in the world she ever got herself into this mess.

  * * * * * *

  Nate and Maddie sat listening to Nestle give his instructions to the scientists and couldn’t believe what they were hearing. In order to safeguard the human population, they would need the help of every nation on Earth. It was many years ago when people won their class-action lawsuits against their governments. For years, the authorities denied the spraying of toxic gases into the upper atmosphere in order to slow the pace of global warming. However, the scientists never considered the negative implications. They accidently changed the normal rainfall around the world. But it wasn’t until the second- and third-generation babies were born with strange life-threatening abnormalities did the people take action.