Chemical Burn (24 page)

Alarm

“So, you going to give us our Q & A?” Xen asked expectantly as he unwrapped one of the cigar boxes.

I took a deep, controlled breath, as if preparing for something I’d never done before. Giving them the whole story scared the hell out of me. I had no idea how they were going to react. But I owed it to them both. Xen sat behind me at the small kitchen table with the cigars and scotch in front of him. I had fried up a mix of diced bacon, onions, chilies and tomatillos and was scrambling eggs into the mix. I’d also set a pitcher of orange juice on the table and three glasses.

“Once Rachel gets out of the shower, we can all get into it,” I said as I threw some cheese on top of the eggs. “How’s the juice?”

“Freshest I ever had.”

“Yeah, the locals squeeze it themselves. It’s a perfect setup here. The loft is my home, but this is my sanctuary.”

“How’d you find it?”

“It was a thank you gift, actually … about fifteen years ago … I helped someone, and he expressed his gratitude by giving me this.”

“
Gave
it to you? Anyone I know?” Xen asked, sniffing the cigars. “And is he interested in adopting a son?”

“No … and no.”

“What happened to him?” Xen asked.

“He died.”

“Did you kill him?” He sounded a bit too serious for my comfort and then went to work on one of the boxes with the scotch inside.

“No, damn it. Why does everyone ask me that?”

Xen raised a
Why do you think?
eyebrow at me.

I sighed heavily, resolved not to let things like that get to me. “Time,” I finally said simply but with a great deal of thoughtfulness. “Time got him.”

“Hunh?”

“He was old. Juan de la Vega … the last of the great Spanish gentlemen. He died in his sleep. Hell of a guy, too. I miss him.” I felt wistful as I thought of the old man. “I only hope have that kind of class and poise when I’m in my golden years … if I ever have golden years, anyway.”

“How’d you meet him?” Xen asked, pulling the cork slowly out of the scotch bottle.

“His granddaughter had been kidnapped in L.A. He needed help finding her. I helped him.” I was lost partway in the memories of those events.

Incredulously, “And he gave you
this
?”

“Yep. Drop in the bucket for him, though.”

“Still, it must have been some help.”

“Vega thought so. He almost died alone, you know.” I said sadly. “I was the only one there. All Vega wanted was to pass this world with a loving family around him. His money made that impossible with those kids. Shitty brats, every one.”

Xen looked at me thoughtfully. “You know, sometimes you have more humanity than most of humanity.”

Rachel’s sweet voice interrupted my reverie. “That smells wonderful,” she said as she walked in wearing one of my robes and drying her hair with a towel.
All the sweeter this particular morning
, I thought.

“Kitchen or patio, you two?” I asked, shaking my head to shoo a few lingering, long forgotten ghosts out of the corners of my mind. “And we can let the interrogation begin.”

“Patio!” they shouted in unison, but Xen kept looking at me thoughtfully.

“I’ll bring this,” I said, holding the eggs. “Rachel, grab the plates, sugar, and silverware. Xen, you get juice, glass and cigar detail.” I walked out onto the patio and waited for them. They collected what they were supposed to, followed me out and set everything down on the patio table.

As they sat down, I dished out the scrambled eggs and set the still-hot skillet on the brick wall behind me. I sat down, grabbed the sugar and poured a healthy amount into my orange juice, stirring it with a table-knife. Xen and Rachel were perched on the edges of their seats looking at me expectantly, almost like buzzards circling.

“I’ll start,” Rachel jumped in as she dug into her eggs. “What’s with putting a ton of sugar into everything? Orange Juice not sweet enough for you? And those sickly-sweet cappuccinos? God! They’re awful!” They both started eating, expectant looks on their faces.

I smiled, intrigued at her choice of beginnings, and massaged the back of my head. “That’s not where I thought we’d start, but okay.” I set the knife down and drank half of the juice. “Sugar for me is like five shots of espresso for you … crossed with really mild hemp and a touch of speed.”

They both stared at me a bit wide-eyed, their mouths stuck around the food they were chewing.

“You mean you’re
high
all the time?” Xen asked, incredulous. Rachel looked shell-shocked.

I chuckled. “Well, high is a strong word … more like a really good buzz. It’s how my metabolism works.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

“Unbelievable!” Xen added finally.

“No wonder you never take anything seriously,” Rachel said, shaking her head.

“It certainly explains your attitude,” Xen added.

“I guess it does,” I replied, laughing along with them.

“Okay,” Xen started, with a more serious look on his face. “My turn. Why do you look like us?”

“I was kind of wondering that myself,” Rachel added quietly, hiding a suggestive grin from Xen. I’m pretty sure I actually blushed.

“I mean,” Xen continued, “you’re from another planet, right? Let’s get this shit out in the open. I want to hear you say it.”

I paused, still hesitant to actually let the words cross my lips. I took a deep breath. “Yes.” I nodded once with a resolved finality that seemed somewhat cathartic. “I’m from another planet.” It was a huge relief, and the depth of the feeling caught me by surprise.

“So, how can you look like us? It’s statistically impossible, unless that’s a possessed body, a copy, a construct, costume or something else I can’t think of.” Xen looked at me with a serious, almost accusatory look on his face. He was a scientist, a good one, and his understanding of biology and natural selection simply didn’t have room for such genetic synchronicity across the stars. “Impossible,” he concluded with certainty.

“No, it’s not,” I said, smiling lightly.

“What?” Xen erupted. “Come on! Are you saying that all life around the universe looks like humans? I’m almost insulted.”

“Of course I’m not saying that,” I conceded with a
Don’t-be-silly
look on my face. “What I am saying is that a large portion of the sentient races look like us. Like you and me. There are a few other archetypes, but about sixty-five-percent have this body-type.”

“How is that even possible?” Xen was actually getting worked up. He didn’t want to accept it.

“Well, I’m not a scientist, and I didn’t really study it. They had me studying other things. It has something to do with stars and the life that evolves around them. Stars of one type create people like us, and stars of a different type create different archetypes. As I understand it, they were just beginning to identify a network of both communication and something like consciousness between solar bodies. But that’s about all I know.”

Xen had a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated the possibilities and
plausibilities
. “Interesting,” he said finally.

“Why are you here?” Rachel asked suddenly. And she nailed me down with an exceedingly serious look of her own. Although Xen didn’t pick it up, I also heard the between-the-lines question of
Will you be going?

I’m sure my face looked a little sad as I remembered my egress from home and the unpleasant circumstances surrounding it. “Well, I’ll kill two birds with one stone on that one, because you both also want to ask
what
I am, why I can do the things I can do.”

“Yes,” they both said.

“When I said that people look like us all over, I meant it. They make love and babies just like you do. Babies of all kinds are born every day out there,” I said somberly. “But I wasn’t one of them.” I paused and took a drink of juice. “I was an … experiment … a … a weapon,” I added with both sadness and even shame coming into my voice.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked with a look of genuine concern on her face. She placed her hand on mine. I looked up and smiled at her.

“I mean, a group of people, some of them tyrants, drew up a specification for me, hired and forced people to create me, and used me as a weapon to do their dirty work. I killed … a
lot
of people in those days … some, maybe most of whom didn’t really have it coming. My father, if I had such a thing, saved me … well, helped me save myself.”

“What happened?” Xen asked.

“I asked questions … asked
why
. The powers that existed at the time needed a weapon that went where it was told and did what it was told. Asking those questions, was beyond my specification, a sign of anomalous behavior. They decided they were going to fix me, make me more compliant and less inquisitive. It’s the only thing that ever scared me to death, so I left. I stole what I could, including my transport, broke into a phase facility, programmed it for destinations unknown, and ended up here. My father blew the console to wipe the destination just as the troops blew the doors. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.”

“Fix you?” Rachel asked.

“Wipe my mind. The body is what they needed. A consciousness could be recreated and all the training re-implemented.” I wasn’t looking at them anymore. I was staring at my past, remembering everything that had happened in my life before Earth. Tears welled up in my eyes, and when I realized it, I came back to them, cleared my throat, and smiled. The tears disappeared quickly. The tenderness in Rachel’s eyes almost made me start bawling again.

“Shit,” I muttered, wiping my nose.

“How long have you been here?” Xen asked.

“Since eighty-three.” I silently thanked Xen for changing topics.

“Justin?” Rachel interjected. “You said something last night that I didn’t really understand … about Mag.” I looked at her expectantly. I knew immediately what she wanted to ask. “You said you two were made for each other.”

I nodded. “She was created along with me. She even shares a lot of my DNA. She’s kind of like a sister. That was the other part of their plan, but she couldn’t be wiped. They would have terminated her and grown a new one to match the new me.” The old killer in me, the one full of rage, added, “I couldn’t allow that.” Then the rage faded and the sadness took hold.

Xen and Rachel saw the melancholy welling up, and neither of them ever would have thought me capable of it. I’m sure it drifted there on my face like a tide-pool, swelling and then receding quickly as I got my control back.

A smile popped onto my face, and whatever sadness had been there disappeared in a flash, replaced with elation. “Xen, break out some of those cigars! This is a big day for me.” Neither of them could tell if my happiness was natural or forced, but they rolled with it, not wanting to press me. “You two are the first people I’ve ever told any this stuff to. I’m not as alone as I used to be.” I smiled at them both as warmly as I could. “Thanks,” I said sincerely.

“For what?” Xen asked.

“For letting me trust you. You don’t know what it’s been like all these years.”

Rachel squeezed my hand. “So, nobody else knows anything?”

“Well, Yvgenny knows something is odd about me. He’s known me since I first got here … literally. I haven’t changed in appearance in all those years. At first, he bought the story about having Lazarus syndrome, why I didn’t appear to age. But like you, he’s seen and heard enough to know something’s up. He’s just too polite to call me on it. Like I said, we sort of found each other.”

“Sounds like you really trust him,” Rachel observed.

“With my life. But he does work for who he works for. Knowing would do him no good, so there wasn’t any reason to say anything.”

“Is there anyone else?” Xen asked, handing me a cigar.

“There is one,” I said a bit ominously as I pulled out a cigar cutter and lighter from my jacket. Xen and I unwrapped our cigars.

“Hey!” Rachel interjected. “Don’t leave me hanging. I love Cubans.” We looked at her with raised eyebrows and then smiled at each other.

Xen pulled out one more cigar and handed it over. We passed around the clipper and then the lighter. Wisps and streams of smoke drifted into the jungle, carried mostly intact through the trees.

“So, who’s the other one?” Rachel asked as she leaned back, pulling on the cigar like an aficionado.

“A spook.” My voice went cold, and both Rachel and Xen saw a brief glimpse of the cold-blooded killer that I keep hidden away within. “This was just before 9/11.” I looked at Xen. “Me and this guy had a night similar to what you and I just went through. I thought he was a friend. Turns out he cared about was sending me to a fucking lab … in pieces.”

“Is he still alive?” Rachel asked carefully.

“He was when I last saw him. I barely got out of that one. That’s one of the times Mag really pulled my bacon out of the fire.”

The three of us spent the rest of the day talking about my home world and what life was like there. I avoided talking about the work I used to do, saying I didn’t want to remember, which was true, but anything else they wanted to know was fair game. As the conversation evolved, what became clear to both of them is that life is pretty much the same all over. There are good people and bad. Some have power and some don’t. They all eat, sleep, fight, love, and make babies.

“It’s a universal constant,” I said during a philosophical moment, “an endless sequence of events that brings joy and despair to every living creature … life and death. All you can really do is give and get as many smiles along the way as possible before you check out. That was the last lesson my father taught me.”

O O O

I poured them each a snifter of the Elegancia and prepared to talk about what came next. I looked at Xen. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What?” Xen peeked over his snifter.

“After I sent you that chemical data, how did you get hooked up with SolCon?” I avoid the topic of Natalia.

“An acquaintance gave me a list of companies that took proposals for grants and research projects. I sent it out to a few of the bigger ones. Dow, PetroChina, and SolCon were among them. A few weeks later, I got a bite from SolCon. It came from Natalia personally.”