Beast Machine (11 page)

Gora stopped on a dime. She
turned and looked at Hitbear as if Hitbear had murdered all of her
favorite things, dumped those things in a wood chipper, dumped them
in the middle of Crater Lake, and finally set Crater Lake on
fire.

She sprinted over to
Hitbear; terrifying him. Gora breathed heavily out of her nostrils
and caused Hitbear to shrink like a cub.

“
What did he do?” she said
incredulously. “He’s the one that began all of this belittlement of
me, all the harassment I received. No one wanted to work with me
after he took full credit for a project I completed, with only an
ounce of monetary assistance from him. He seized my potential for
his own gain. My career ended because some man wouldn’t admit the
truth.”

“
Vas was zee project?”
asked Owlbert in a serious manner. His playful side was temporarily
stowed away.

Gora let out a deep sigh
and began to ramble off her past – something she wanted to avoid at
all costs – to her creations. She wasn’t a heart-to-heart, sharing
emotions type of person because it became difficult to articulate
how she felt. But maybe she was slowly becoming one.

“
It was a liquid concoction
that sped up the growth of trees; other plant-life too, but the
buyer wanted it to be mainly for trees. Oak, maple and redwood
trees, mainly. The buyer wanted to be able to create ‘sustainable’
trees that could be harvested and made into lumber – essentially a
self-sustaining tree farm of nearly 600-acres that could be
harvested until the end of time. I wanted to succeed because it
meant that most of the current world environment would stay intact
and would stop deforestation, at least with this buyer.

“
I had just finished the
concoction and perfected it after moving to the Pacific Northwest.
Seeing a redwood grow from a seedling to an adult in less than
thirty minutes was beyond magnificent. It was like I was better
than Mother Nature at bringing life back to our downtrodden Earth.
It was wonderful; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Cliché, but that was how I
actually
felt. Warm and fuzzy. It’s a much more pleasant
feeling than it sounds.

“
What began my downfall was
I had used some of Doctor Silva’s funding that he had left over
from a project of his, providing new limbs to felines, so he knew
of my project before nearly anyone else. I needed the funding so I
accepted without hesitation, but if I would have known he would
have claimed all credit I would have done anything else to get the
money, within reason.” She tilted her head back and blew straight
up into the air. She refocused her head. “I had few interactions
with Doctor Silva before receiving his funding, but we were
becoming good friends and often got coffee or dinner
together.

“
The biggest mistake I made
was trusting him to mail the finished product to the buyer and to
the American Scientific Hub, or ASH. The sample sent to ASH would
be displayed for my fellow scientists, and others that were
interested in science, to see and understand in a museum setting.
I, regretfully, lack much knowledge on how certain ‘common sense’
things work – the physical mailing system eludes me. Where do I put
the stamp? Am I allowed to use just any box for shipping? What’s
the chance that my package will be broken en route? It perplexed me
and I often become so overanxious during perplexing moments that
I’ll faint! So, because of that predicament, I trusted him to take
it to a shipping company to be sent to the buyer, and to ASH, of
course.

“
I met with Doctor Silva in
Portland two days after I completed the concoction. His attitude
was strange that day as he was highly paranoid of every passing
person, but I chalked that up to Silva lacking sleep. He never
stopped working on his projects and would spend days at a time
without sleeping. I handed him the package and gave him a note with
the address to the company. I figured he knew ASH’s address. He
shook it gently, said goodbye and went on his way. I didn’t think
anything of it at the time.

“
My guess is, after I gave
him the package, he opened the box and removed my name from any and
all documentation that was included in the box. I didn’t even find
out I had been scammed until weeks went by and I realized I never
received a payment, a congratulations email or even a phone call
that the serum was working accordingly.”

Hitbear and Owlbert sat
down on the floor as Gora stayed standing.

“
I had been in contact with
the buyer mostly through email, so I quickly messaged them asking
if they had got the package yet; explaining how my friend sent the
package for me and that the package should definitely have made it
there.”

Hitbear and Owlbert nodded,
asking Gora to continue.

“
An hour later or more, I
can’t really remember, I received a message stating, ‘Ms. Gora, I
am afraid to inform you that another has created the product that
we were hoping you would be able to procure. We sent out the offer
to more scientists than just you, Ms. Gora. Putting all our eggs in
one basket would have been exceptionally unwise.’

“
I became overwhelmed with
emotions: anger, sadness, confusion, and desperation. I knew I had
sent it – well, I knew Doctor Takeo Silva had sent it for me. So, I
messaged them back telling them just that – that I fucking sent the
damn thing over a month ago and that I know my serum was the first
one that they would have received. I attached every single one of
my digital work files to the email to prove that it was my serum.”
She shook her head dismissively.

“
The exact same stock reply
was sent and I broke down and cried. I cried for a week straight, I
didn’t even know it happened to be Silva until the next quarterly
ASH meeting where he stated I was a leech, a whore, and a copycat.
He told everyone he could that I tried to extort the product – that
he had ‘worked endlessly on’ – from him with sexual favors. People
believed him, too, with zero proof. It was a nightmare come to
life.”

Hitbear and Owlbert stared
on sympathetically, but each felt a pit of anger growing inside
their bodies as Gora continued.

“
I was called horrid, vile
things – things I never want to hear myself or other innocents
called. My reputation had been sullied and when I eventually began
to work on new inventions and experiments I had always forgotten a
step, or just created a dud of an invention. It wasn’t intentional,
but I know deep down that my mind created these broken inventions
on purpose because it was damaged. I couldn’t complete even the
simplest, mundane experiments!”

Gora began to sob and wail
in gibberish. Hitbear rushed to her side.

“
It’s okay,” said Hitbear
quietly. “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay. We’ll get that sick
bastard; we’ll get all those sick bastards.” Hitbear patted her
gently on the back and started to rub her back with his only paw.
Her sobs began to soften and Gora fell asleep in Hitbear’s
arms.

“
Let’s get this Tubman
creation going so we can exact revenge on that scum,” growled
Hitbear to Owlbert. “We don’t need soldiers, either. I want to help
exact revenge with my own hands – well hand.” He looked at his
stump arm.

“
Ja! I know where zee vial
ist und vill start zee Beast Machine as soon as possible,” chirped
Owlbert as quietly as he could. Owlbert hopped over to the tattered
book he showed Gora earlier and ripped out a picture of Harriet
Tubman.

Owlbert turned to Hitbear
and asked, ”Vill your lack of morality be ein problem vith this
Tubman creation, being she ist ein black woman?”

Hitbear, still gently
holding the sleeping Gora, said, “No. Not anymore.” Hitbear looked
down at Gora with a proud intensity. “She gave us new life. We must
help her and put her goals ahead of any of ours – even if it means
ditching our old ideals.”

Owlbert chirped happily as
he fiddled with the Beast Machine. “Vat should vee have her come
back as?”

Chapter 11

Jobs For The Poor

From a distance, Jeffrey
sized up the once abandoned mining facility. It had been
appropriately renovated with the proper materials, the proper
modern architecture that Chairman Obelis desired and the proper
precautions needed for testing experiments deep below in the mines
while still functioning as some sort of facility up top. Jeffrey
was sure Silva would love the testing space, if Silva ever stopped
being the whiny asshat that he had become after meeting
Thane.

The modern design, and
bland color, left the facility looking merely like a museum or
government building. It needed to keep up the appearance of a
facility or a warehouse to keep any sort of looky-loos away, so
there had to be workers hired to enter slowly in the morning and to
trickle out in the evening. Jeffrey’s current assignment: to hire
these workers and the nearby trailer park was brimming with bodies
to employ – all former miners. Unfortunately, it was becoming
Jeffrey’s problem to decide exactly what the workers would be doing
in the facility because their skills were lacking.

They couldn’t do any actual
mining since the majority of sections dug into the ground have been
renovated as testing zones for Doctor Silva. Not to mention that
mining the Earth would be detrimental to Chairman Obelis’ plan to
save humanity by harming the environment. But the job had to be
remedial since Jeffrey and Chairman Obelis were championing
employment for the lower class, and the mostly uneducated masses,
for Chairman Obelis’ political campaign for Governor of Arkansas.
This task was giving Jeffrey a mini-aneurysm. “Even if Chairman
Obelis’ device to
guide
these people came to fruition, it wouldn’t instantly make the
uneducated educated,” thought Jeffrey. “Or would it?”

“
The workers at the mining
facility would serve three purposes,” wrote Jeffrey in his
notebook. “Firstly, it will show to the people of Arkansas, and
subsequently the United States of America, that Chairman Obelis can
create jobs on his own volition. Secondly, the workers will
cover-up what exactly is happening below the facility. And finally,
the workers will provide a sizable, uneducated amount of test
subjects necessary for any future endeavors!”

Jeffrey looked around and
pondered what would be most beneficial to Chairman Obelis’ main
goal of helping mankind make the
right
decisions. He desperately wanted
to think of an idea quickly to please Chairman Obelis.
Jeffrey
really
wanted to
please
Chairman Obelis – in many ways. Jeffrey often thought about
the positions he would bend himself to please Chairman
Obelis.

“
Textbooks? No. No. That’s
stupid,” said Jeffrey as he erased his words. “What about cheap
clothing? Yes, that would work! We could sell off the clothes and
make even more cash. Or just textiles – yes!”

A large hand was firmly
placed on Jeffrey’s shoulder.

“
Boss does not need more
money, Jeff,” stated Thane as Jeffrey promptly turned around and
brushed off Thane’s massive hand.

“
What would you know about
business, Thane? And don’t call me Jeff,” said Jeffrey. Jeffrey’s
brow furrowed as he crossed out clothing and textiles from his
notebook.

“
I just know Boss will not
need more money. He has said it lots of times. He said it to that
doctor that shit himself the other day. I heard it through the
door.” Thane’s body showed no indication of glowing like previous
occasions – did his emotions control the glow? – but his skin was
still white as snow.

Jeffrey became quite
annoyed by the pale behemoth in front of him, but knew that Thane
could snap him like a twig at any moment. Still, quite rudely,
Jeffrey said, “Oh shut it, pighead. Chairman Obelis – as you will
refer to him as, not ‘Boss’ – has put me in charge of properly
setting up the now suitable facility. I need to think of a name for
it too. Hmm. This place used to be nicknamed ‘The Gulag’ because
the men rarely made it back out alive, but that’s not an amicable
name now is it?”

Thane and Jeffrey both
stood there for a moment. Each were deep in thought about what type
of work the lower class of Arkansas should be doing. Jeffrey’s mind
wandered back to Chairman Obelis.

Jeffrey began to day dream
of Chairman Obelis and he on vacation. They were on a private jet
to the Cayman Islands. The jet was filled with foam, expensive
champagne bottles, half-naked men with golden short shorts, vibrant
colored furniture and a shirtless Chairman Obelis with his arm
around Jeffrey. Jeffrey imagined himself going in for a kiss with
Chairman Obelis when suddenly he was jerked out of the daydream by
one of Thane’s massive paws.

“
OK, smart man. I am done
thinking about this. I am going down into the building to see if it
is up to Boss’s standards.”

“
HIS NAME IS CHAIRMAN
OBELIS,” screeched Jeffrey as he tried to shove Thane. Thane didn’t
budge a millimeter. Jeffrey flailed at the giant.

“
I will be going now, smart
man. See you and Boss later then?” asked Thane, backing away from
Jeffrey’s limp thrusts.

Jeffrey sighed and waved
his arm, “Yes, whatever, move on down there and get to work. Leave
the thinking to me, okay?”