Authors: Quincy J. Allen
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Dystopian
Chemical Burn (16 page)
“Sweet,” I said, smiling. I slipped the tools back into the case, the case back into my pocket and stepped quickly into a dimly lit stairwell. I closed the door behind me and slipped down the stairs. There was a door on the second level, and the stairs continued down to the first floor. Gambling that whoever DiMarco was here to see had an upper-floor office, I turned the lever and silently pulled it open a few inches. None of the lights were on, but light from the streetlights outside was enough to see by.
There was no one in sight, so I stepped in quickly and sank down into a low crouch, sneaking up to the edge of a short hallway. A low-walled expanse of small office cubes filled the central part of the second-floor and a row of offices lining the north wall that continued all the way around the building. Most of them had their doors open. In the far corner I spotted the back of a small man with a long, black ponytail. He had on a black t-shirt and worked in a doublewide cubical along the south wall. A half-dozen monitors glowed before him in the corner where he sat.
He appeared to be switching between tasks on all of them. He worked like I did. I zoomed in on the screens I could see. They displayed a mix of chemical data, engineering diagrams, and some scheduling and volume data measured in thousands of gallons. I moved quickly down the aisle between the offices and cube-farm, stopping when I heard the elevator doors chime and start to open behind and to my left. Trusting my camouflage, I turned the corner and snuck down the aisle directly behind the man in the cubicle.
“Jackie, baby! What are you still doing here?” Gino hollered as he entered the cube-farm. He held a pistol in his hand as he scanned the area, obviously looking for an intruder. I stopped at an open door two offices away from Jackie and disappeared into the darkness. He never turned to look at Gino. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since Thursday,” Gino added sternly.
“I know, Gino. I was ignoring you.”
Gino raised a fist at Jackie’s back and forced a smile. “Ha! It’s a good thing you make me so much money, kiddo. And what the hell are you doing in the dark?” Gino walked up the aisle and stopped behind Jackie.
“Please don’t turn on the lights.”
Gino scowled again. “Have you seen or heard anything in here tonight?”
“Some guards came in looking for something a couple of hours ago. Aside from that, it’s been quiet.”
“You sure?”
“How could I not be sure about something like that?”
“Right …” Gino looked like he wanted to slap the guy, but he kept his tone calm. “Did you get my message?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Gino asked expectantly.
“I’m crunching the numbers now.”
“And?” Gino asked again, a bit more impatience in his voice. I gotta hand it to the guy, whoever he was. He didn’t seem to fear DiMarco. “I’ve committed us to those god damn Russians, and, believe me, they don’t fuck around,” Gino added quietly.
Jackie sighed and stopped what he was doing. He paused for a few seconds, looking at his computer screens. He slowly turned around in his chair to face Gino. I finally got a look at him. In his late twenties or early thirties, he had a clean-shaven, boyish, Asian face. Black, horn-rimmed glasses sat on a flat nose, and he had dark eyes that, to me, looked just plain mean. He wore leather sandals, blue jeans, and a t-shirt with a logo on it made up of four colored boxes stacked in a diamond pattern: white, blue, red, and yellow. The text read
Unstable: May explode at normal temperatures and pressures.
I almost laughed.
Funny shirt,
I thought, considering the guy’s job and demeanor. I made a mental note to try and find one of those.
“Gino, you only have one thing to worry about,” Jackie said. “The plant can handle the volume. Based on what you gave me, we’ll need to increase production by four-hundred percent. We’ll also need to shut down or severely reduce the hydrogen and liquid nitrogen production, but they’re not really making you any money anyway, so it’s a huge net gain. As you suspected, you don’t have enough storage right now. I figure you’ll have to triple the number of tanks you have out there,” Jackie added, indicating the tanks where Mag hid in the shadows. “Fortunately, you have the space, but they’ll take time to build.” Jackie leaned back in his chair and sized Gino up for a moment. “The real problem is Del Gato. Are you sure he can deliver? I can’t make something from nothing, and he’ll need to increase deliveries by four-hundred percent as well.”
“You let me handle that,” Gino said with a bit of an edge. “Del Gato says he can handle it, and I’m sure as hell paying him enough.”
At least I know where the drugs are coming from
. I could tell DiMarco wasn’t accustomed to his people talking to him like that, but Jackie was probably a certified, wacko genius. He was the sort of tool a guy like DiMarco couldn’t afford to lose … at least not yet, anyway. “As long as you’re sure you can get it done here, I’ll get what we need from Del Gato. And I can go to other vendors if he comes up short.”
“Alright. I’ll have the report and the project plan to you tomorrow with everything we have to do on our end. We’ll be able to get everything set up and ready to rock in about three weeks.”
“That’s perfect, Jackie my boy. Just email me the specs … make sure they’re clean. I think I may have someone on my back.”
“You got it,” Jackie said, turning back to his monitors. “Oh, and if you want to review any of my data, it’s on the internal network at corporate. You won’t be able to access it from home or anyplace else outside. You’ll need to log in at the downtown office.”
“Why the fuck would I want to look at that shit?” Gino asked. “That’s what I pay you for. Besides, it makes my head hurt.” He turned, walked back down past the rows of cubicles, and then stopped at the end.
“Right,” Jackie said, devoid of any interest in Gino at all.
“Oh, and Jackie?”
“Yeah?”
“Take a few days. Enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks, Gino,” Jackie said without turning around. “I already booked a flight to Vegas for tomorrow night and reserved your penthouse at the Venetian.”
I watched Gino’s face stiffen as he glared at the presumptuous little chemist. He raised the pistol as if he was going to shoot the kid in the back of the head. He took a deep breath, lowered the weapon, turned, and strode back to the elevator. I waited till I heard the elevator open and close before slinking out of the office and back the way I had come. Jackie, his attention focused on the monitors, never moved.
I silently opened the stairwell door and went upstairs into the cool, desert night air. The stars twinkled above, much more visible than they were back in the city. I stood there a few minutes, thinking about home. I waited for the limousine to drive back towards the highway. When the taillights were out of sight, I walked to the edge of the building, checked to see that there was an adequate gap between guards, and stepped off. Hitting the ground effortlessly, I jogged across the parking lot. I crossed the dirt field, returning to the shadows of the storage tanks and felt Mag brush up against my leg.
“Let’s go, Mag. We’re done here.”
The two of us returned to the fence, went through it, and I removed the splitter from the other side. I took a quiet, calm stroll back to the van, put my gear away, switched coats, and drove home.
Parking the van back it its slot, I shut off the engine and looked at Mag. “You want to sleep sea-side tonight? Maybe you can find that monkey again.”
Mag looked at me, smiled, and rasped her agreement.
I grabbed the black coat and got out of the van. “Go on girl. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. I have to go grab a few things.”
Mag darted past me through the open door and around the corner of the standing closet, and I heard her door open and swing closed. Walking past my bed and up to the row of coat hooks, I hung up the black coat, brushed the dust off of it, and then hung up the tan one I’d been wearing. Grabbing the two dirty ones, I draped them both over my shoulder, stepped up to the front door and placed my hand on the palm reader. Running through the appropriate finger sequence, I pushed open the door and stepped into the living room of my beach house. Humid air and the smell of the ocean filled my nostrils.
Without turning on the lights, I walked through the dark living room, down the hall, past the kitchen and bedrooms, straight back to the double-sliding glass door. Unlocking it, I slid it open and stepped out onto my patio. The sound of the ocean filtering through the jungle behind my house made me smile. The patio glowed enough in the moonlight for me to make my way to one of the lounge chairs along the low brick wall that surrounded it. Mag had already curled up on one of the other lounge chairs, looking at me. I threw the coats on the long, glass patio table, sat down, reclined the chair all the way back, and was asleep in seconds.
***
The Seventh Day
I woke to the sound of screaming monkeys. I looked at the now empty chair where Mag had been sleeping. The heat and humidity of the mid-morning sun soothed me, and I lay there for a while, simply enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the jungle. There isn’t much jungle where I come from. It’s mostly desert and cityscape, although I’d visited plenty of jungle worlds over the years. The canopy stretched overhead, and I watched a troop of monkeys playing tag through the branches high above. The orange blossoms of the elequeme trees that fenced in the sides of my patio and ran around the front of the property gave the air a subtly pleasant perfume. They were part of the reason I’d kept the place, a gift from an old friend on his deathbed. And no, before you ask, I didn’t kill him.
As I stood up, I noticed an iguana on the low, stone wall at the back of the patio, lounging on one of the gateposts. I stripped down, leaving my clothes draped over the back of the chair, and walked through the gate down the path towards the ocean. The soft earth and dead leaves felt good under my bare feet. The sound of the surf grew as I reached the end of the tree line. I walked down the beach and waded out into the surf. I spent an hour swimming and diving deeply, both for the training and the mere pleasure of it.
The sun drifted to a position straight above, and it was time for me to get to work, so I walked back to the house. As I approached the gate, I noticed the iguana was gone but Mag was back. She sat there inside the gate, licking blood off her paws and muzzle. She must have decided to put iguana on the lunch menu. I opened the gate, stepped over Mag, and grabbed my clothes.
“Did it taste like chicken?” I said chuckling. Mag never stopped cleaning.
I walked into the house and took a long, hot shower. I dried off and walked into the kitchen where I grabbed a couple cans of peaches, a spoon, and a can opener, setting everything on the counter-top. I opened the cupboard and pulled out a gallon bottle of clear liquid and a toothbrush that was on the shelf next to it.
Walking into the living room, I hit a few buttons on the stereo and heard music start playing out on the patio. I returned to the kitchen, gathered everything up in both arms and walked out to the patio. Setting it all on the table next to my coats, I sat in one of the upright chairs. Latin jazz played while Mag continued to clean herself. Most pleasant, I thought as I opened one of the peach cans and spent the next few minutes enjoying the sweet fruit slices. When I finished, I set the spoon and empty can aside, moved one of the jackets out of the way, and laid the other one out flat in front of me.
I twisted the cap off of the gallon jug and poured a small amount of the liquid directly onto one of the blood-spatters on my coat. The fluid had a tangy smell to it, reminiscent of almonds, oddly enough, considering the fluid didn’t originate on Earth. I replaced the cap, set the jug aside and, picking up the toothbrush, scrubbed at a blood spot on my coat. As I pressed the brush into the fabric, moving in small circles, the liquid slowly evaporated. After a few minutes of working the area, the blood spot disappeared. I poured the liquid on another blood spatter and worked the brush.
I worked for several hours like this and finally finished the first coat. I stood up, draped the now pristine coat over the back of my chair, and stretched out sore muscles. At some point during the process, Mag had crawled up on a lounge-chair behind me and gone to sleep. I had to wonder if the iguana had similar levels of tryptophan as turkey. She always seemed to sleep more after eating one of the lizards than she did when she got hold of a monkey.
My thigh itched, so I scratched it and realized that Bennie’s bullet had finally made it to the surface. I scratched a bit harder, removing a few layers of skin over the hard lump in my flesh. The bullet broke through the surface. Squeezing with both fingers, I pushed the slug out and caught it as it fell. With a spurt of blood, the skin quickly closed up over the declivity left behind. I let out a sigh of relief, dropped the flattened-out slug into the empty peach can, then grabbed the opener and another can. It was time for supper. I opened it up and enjoyed a fifteen-minute break of peaches and ocean air.
As I set the second empty can next to the first, my phone rang. I heard the ring coming from both the coat on the table and the one draped over my chair. I grabbed the dirty coat on the table, reached into the appropriate pocket and pulled out the phone in the baggie. Opening the bag, I pulled out the phone, and answered.
“Hi Rachel.”
“Are you at the zoo again? I hear monkeys.”
I looked up at the trees and saw several monkeys screeching and throwing fruit at each other. “Yeah, I’m at the zoo.” I smiled but felt a little guilty at always having to lie to Rachel about where the house was. I really need to fix that, I thought. “You know I like it here. Needed to think.”
“Well, I’ve been doing some thinking of my own.”
“I figured. It’s not an easy decision to make.”
“I’m in. I talked to my sister about it for hours yesterday. At first she had me convinced I shouldn’t, but by the end we both agreed this is what I want. Besides, why should you get to have all the fun?”
“I hoped you’d say that. You’re just about ready. I’ll know for sure when you and Marsha have your match-up.” I paused, choosing my next words very carefully. “I love you, you know.” I meant it in more than a friendly, respectful sort of way. I heard Rachel breathing on the other end, but she didn’t say anything. “It takes guts and real mettle to want to get into it like this. And like Yvgenny said, you are a rare woman,” I added, doing my best impersonation of the big Russian. “And a hell of a lady,” I said truthfully.
Rachel laughed. “Thanks, Justin.…” A long pause settled between us before she added, “I love you, too.” The phrase was careful, platonic even, without any emotion coming through. “When will you be done at the zoo?” she asked. “I was thinking we could go to dinner.”
“Oh … uhh … actually, I’ve got to finish up something,” I said looking at the second coat. “Then I’m going to hit the sack. I’m still pretty strung out from yesterday.”
“Yesterday? What happened yesterday?”
“Oh, yeah … I forgot to tell you. I went out to the VeniCorp plant and did some snooping.”
“I wish you’d tell me this stuff,” she said laughing lightly. She had gotten used to me going off and doing dangerous things in the way other people go to the grocery store, but I knew she would rather know what’s going on.
“I know you do. Sorry about that.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Well …” I said evasively. “I might actually surprise you one of these days.”
“I won’t hold my breath.”
“As long as I’m in the dog house, can I ask you to do me another favor?”
“You always do,” she said dryly.
“Can you try to dig up anything on an Asian chemist that goes by the name Jack or Jackie? Works for VeniCorp. I think he’s Chinese, but I’m not certain. I’d do it myself, but I won’t be near my computer tonight.”
“You’re not going home?”
“Not tonight. I feel like sleeping on the beach.”
“Got a hot date?”
“You know I don’t. Not unless you count Magdelain,” I said chuckling. The cat raised her head and looked at me. “I think we’re heading into a rough one with DiMarco and all, and I want to get one last good night’s sleep before we do.”
“I understand. Get some rest.” I caught an unusual trace of real disappointment in her voice.
“I’ll take you to dinner this week, how about that?”
“Deal,” she said a bit more brightly. “So the name is Jack or Jackie?”
“Right.”
“And he works at VeniCorp.”
“Right.”
“I don’t suppose you have anything more for me to go on?” she asked with a bit of exasperation.
“Yeah, he’s an Asian chemist, remember?” I pointed out innocently.
“Yes, I do remember. I mean, do you have anything more than that? You can be such a lunkhead.” I could hear her smiling.
“Well … not really,” I said a bit apologetically.
“That dinner better be spectacular,” she warned me, “Like surf and turf or something … you hear me?” She laughed a bit.
“Deal. I’ll figure something out,” I assured her.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“
Hasta
, sweetie. You’re the best.”
Resigned, she said, “You say that to all the women in your life.”
“Yeah, but I always mean it.”
“Good bye, Justin.”
“Bye, Rachel.” I sat there for a few minutes thinking about her. I knew she looked at me as more than a good friend. “I definitely need to do something about that,” I said to nobody but myself.
***
