Consigning Fate (2 page)

“Like a drug?”

Andrea nodded.

“For what purpose?”

Andrea shrugged. “Dean experiments. He is constantly trying new things. Vitamins, energy drugs, antibiotics. In fact, if memory serves me right, Darrell did have a throat infection two weeks ago.”

Lars looked at the readout. “Would Dean know by looking?”

“He should.”

Lars nodded. “Good. I’m going to go find out if he knows what this is?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just curious as to why our security man is so out of it. His scan shows no damage.”

“You’re right, I was wondering that myself. Good thinking doctor.”

“Thank you.” Lars folded the paper with a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find Dean.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Lars stopped walking. “Why ‘Oh’?”

“I’m not so sure he wants you there.”

“I don’t care. I need some answers.” Lars walked to the door.

“Oh, Lars, before you go. I have a question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

“The woman’s meeting tonight? This one is the “getting In touch with your estrogen’ right?”

“Right.”

“Should no males be there?”

“It would be best to leave all males at home as they wouldn’t understand,” Lars said.

“Good. Thank you. He’s not gonna like it, but I’ll break it to him.”

“Who?” Lars asked.

“Joe.”

His mouth parted to speak, to respond, but Lars didn’t. He smiled, said, ‘good luck’ and left the lab. He was on a mission to find Dean.

<><><><>

“How’s it going?” Danny Hoi asked.

Danny’s entrance into the communications room took Jimmy away from his daydream break. He was staring at his bookmark, a picture of Jenny Matoose. He ran his thumb over her face, smiled peacefully and set the picture down.

“Man,” Danny said and looked at the picture. “You got it bad.”

“For Jenny.” Jimmy sighed out. “Yeah. But what can I do? She belongs to John.”

“Understand, Brother.”

Jimmy nodded. “So, what brings you here?”

“Checking on you,” Danny said. “I was in the middle of a surprise for Frank and thought I’d come down.”

“Surprise for Frank?” Jimmy asked.

“Yep. When we were in his office, I was thinking how crowded it is.”

“But you’re having an office built for us, right?”

“Right. But until then, wait until he steps out of his office.” Danny winked. “I got him a little trailer.”

“Sweet.” Jimmy nodded.

“So how’s it going with this?” Danny pointed to the satellite link up manuscript.

“Good. Good. I hit page fifty.”

Danny winced. “It doesn’t read right.”

“Actually, militarily, it reads fine. This things when working, when linked will change that whole board.” Jimmy said. “We will be able you do a random scan of air and sea, or punch in coordinates.”

“So if an invasion is coming, we’ll see it.”

“See it and identify the threat,” Jimmy said.

“That explained all that in the first fifty pages?” Danny asked. “I must have really missed it.”

Jimmy chuckled. “No, I skipped ahead. But I’m working on it.”

“How long do you think this will take?”

“Not long. Once I figure out what to do. How to hook it up and retrieve the information. It’s all a matter of learning to work it.”

“How long?”

“Weeks. Months. But then again, it depends how obsessive I get. If I feel close I won’t stop.”

“Cool.”

At that moment, the communications phone rang. Jimmy answered it, “Communications, Jimmy Slagel speaking. Oh, hey Frank.”

Danny tapped him on the shoulder, mouthed the words, “I’ll catch you later’ and turned.

“Yeah, he’s here. Hold on.” Jimmy extended the phone. “Danny. For you. Frank.”

Danny looked oddly. “Why didn’t he call my …” He glanced down. “Shit. I left it at the trailer. Thanks.” He took the phone. “Hey, Frank, sorry I left my phone somewhere. What’s up?”

“Hey, Danny, that’s OK,” Frank said. “The Dean SUT tracker, I’m having trouble with the history.”

“What kind of problem?” Danny asked.

“I can’t get it to go back any further than twenty-four hours.”

“That’s because it resets,” Danny said.

“Fuck. I need it to go back further”

“It can.”

“But you just said …”

“Well it works like a cell phone Frank. You know how our cells send a signal here, and we are able to log calls. It keeps a log.”

“Of where he’s been?” Frank asked.

“Yep. I haven’t pulled it up. You’ve been on it.”

“I’ve been lax,” Frank said.

“Is there a problem?”

“Could be. How far back can you go?”

“I have that to reset every month, but it creates a backup log.”

“Can you pull for me?” Frank asked.

“Sure, Frank. When do you need the info?”

“In an hour,” Frank said.

“I can do that. Any date you have in mind or just a history.”

“Actually a date.”

Danny grabbed a pencil. “Go on. What is it?”

“March twenty-first.”

Danny paused in writing it down. “Frank, that’s ….”

“I know.”

Danny sighed. “I get you.”

“Danny, lid’s on this one. OK? For now?”

“You got it. I’ll go get that info.”

“Meet me here in an hour. Thanks.”

Danny pulled the phone from his ear when he heard the line disconnect. He placed the phone on the base.

“Everything OK?” Jimmy asked.

“Um … yeah.” Danny forced a smile. “Everything is fine. He just needs something from me.” After a clearing of the throat Danny headed back to the door. “Good luck with that Jimmy.”

Jimmy gave a thumbs up.

Danny left. He knew what Frank wanted. He wanted to know where Dean was on the day Joe died. The implications of that request made Danny’s head spin. Frank had to have a good reason to ask. But it didn’t make sense to Danny, not at all. For as much as he didn’t like Dean, to him there was no question. Danny wasn’t psychic, and he didn’t have the tracking history on Dean, he couldn’t say for certain where Dean
was
, but Danny would swear he could bet where Dean wasn’t. He wasn’t near Joe when Joe was killed. Dean wouldn’t have been. At least those were Danny’s thoughts.

“I brought lunch,” Ellen announced as she entered the cryo lab, closing the door with her foot. “Oh, Dean.” She winced. “What’s smells?”

“Rabbit fur,” Dean said. “I was practicing laser surgery and the fur just burned.”

“You should have shaved the bunny,” she stated, setting down the plate on the counter. “Hungry.”

“Actually I am.” Dean walked to the sink and washed up. “What did you get?”

“Bakery now has sandwiches. I got us each a mad meat sandwich.”

Dean paused in drying his hand. “Mad meat?”

Ellen nodded. “I sampled it. It’s really good. It’s the left over meats that kind of blend together like a ham salad.”

“Mad meat?”

“Don’t be so closed minded Dean, try it.” She uncovered the sandwiches.

Dean took a sniff. “Smells good.”

“See.”

He pulled forward stool. “I’ll try them.”

“So how are our embryos?”

“Good. Good. Our pup-bryos are fine. But we have a problem …” Dean took a bite of his sandwich. “This is really good, El.”

“See I told you. I didn’t think Gemma would serve anything bad. What’s our problem?”

“We really have to implant them in the next five days.”

“I thought we were gonna create a womb.”

Dean shrugged. “We are. But I’d really rather have a mother.”

“Like a human mother?”

Dean laughed. “No. Animal. I mean we can implant four to six embryos in her.”

“What kind of animal can we use?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. What are our options?”

“Rabbit?”

“No linked enough.”

“Horse?” Ellen suggested.

“Nah. What we need is a close family member of the dog. Like a wolf or coyote.”

“This is Montana, Dean, there are coyotes here.”

“Yeah, but how are we gonna get one?” Dean asked.

Ellen smiled. She swallowed her bite of food and stood up. “I got an idea.”

“What are you doing?”

She picked up the phone. “Calling Frank.”

“Frank is going to get us a coyote?”

“If anyone can, he can.” She dialed. “Hey… oh, sorry. OK, real fast. Dean and I need a coyote in the cryo lab within the next five days. Can you get us one?” She paused. “Thanks.”

Dean watched her hang up. “That was fast. What did he say?”

“He said he’d try.”

“He’s pretty busy now, El,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I know, he just told me that.”

“He is the president. You’re gonna have to start thinking of ways to occupy your time.”

“I have. I do. You.” She flashed a smile. “Oh. Shit. I have to let Fifi out.”

“El, this is ridiculous. She’s a stuffed dog.”

“Getting into practice.” She lowered the stuffed dog to the floor and grabbed the leash. “I’ll just put her in the tunnel. I’ll be right back.”

Dean laughed.

Not for long.

No sooner did Ellen open the cryo lab door, she blurted out, “Oh, Lars, what’s up?”

Thinking, ‘fuck’, Dean wiped off his hands, and covered his sandwich in case he lost his appetite. “Lars.” Dean said, then cleared his throat.

“Dean. Sorry to disturb your … your …” Lars looked down to Fifi. “Is that Buzz’s Aunt’s dog?”

“Yes, Buzz gave her to me,” Ellen replied.

“Why?” Lars asked.

“She’s cute.” Ellen shrugged and walked out.

“What can I do for you, Lars?” Dean asked.

“I ran those blood tests on Darrell,” Lars said. “The ones you were supposed to get to.”

“They’re routine.”

“Actually, no, I wanted his blood analyzed,” Lars said. “He’s my patient and I’m baffled at why he can’t seem to stay conscious. In any event, I ran the tests. There was a substance in the blood the computer didn’t recognize.”

Dean seemed perplexed. “Really? That’s odd.”

“That’s what I thought.” Lars handed Dean the tests. “Can you identify it?”

Dean took the results. At first he presented an air of arrogance, as if Lars, perhaps didn’t know what he was looking at. But all that changed. “Whoa.”

“Whoa? Is that a scientific term?” Lars asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t recognize this at all.”

“It’s not one of your mixtures that you forgot about?”

“No, this isn’t even vaguely familiar. Actually this looks synthetic.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you still have the blood?” Dean asked.

“The remaining, yes.”

“If you want, I can bring it down here, El and I can break it down and do some testing, see if this substance has anything about it.”

“If I bring it here, will you share the results?”

“Um … sure.”

Lars took a long look at Dean. “Why don’t I believe that?”

“Lars, please, I’ll share the results.”

Another look and Lars nodded. “Fine. It’s labeled and in the fridge.”

“Ok.” Dean shrugged. “I’ll get to it.”

“When?”

“When I’m done eating?” Dean asked.

“How can you eat in this smell?”

“Used to it.”

Lars winced, shook his head and walked to the door. “I still do not like you.”

“Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual.”

“Twit.”

“Asshole.”

“Have a good day,” Lars said.

“You, too.”

As Lars walked out, Ellen walked in. “Fifi feels better. What did Lars want?”

“Check this out.” Dean handed her the test results. “Darrell’s blood. Lars did a break down to analyze because he can’t figure out why Darrell is still unconscious. He wants me to see if I know what it is. I offered to do testing to see what and if the substance does anything and tell him about it,”

Ellen looked. “I don’t recognize this. It’s synthetic.”

“Exactly.” Dean nodded.

“How would he get something in his blood that’s synthetic that we don’t recognize?”

“Lars.” Dean said.

“OK. So why would Lars have you look at it and test it if he made it?”

“Why else? To rub it in that he has a drug we don’t. One he invented.”

“Dean!” Ellen said brightly. “That is so smart of you. Good thinking.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a fucker.”

“Yeah.”

“So are you going to isolate the substance in the blood and see what it does?” Ellen asked.

“Oh, you better believe it.”

“Are you gonna tell him what we find?”

“Nope. I’ll let Frank know. If Lars is giving people drugs, unapproved, or unknown to Beginnings. Drugs that make people sleep …” Dean winked.

“Oh, he’ll be in trouble.”

Dean smiled. “You better believe it.”

<><><><>

Elliott laughed. Elliott laughed hard. It was a good thing he wasn’t driving the truck or else he would have lost control.

“I could listen to that over and over again,” Elliott said.

“Just something about Ben from Fabrics doing the Frank voice.” Hal sighed and ejected the audio book from the player.

“How did you get that?”

“Ben gave it me as a condolence present,” Hal replied. “It worked.”

“I don’t think our laughter is the desire effect Mr. From Fabrics wanted.”

“Who cares?” Hal released another sigh. “So, what do you think of my ideas?”

“Good. Good,” Elliott said “I have some to.”

“This will be fun; it’ll give me a focus.”

“You know, Captain, it truly does show how much you love your brother. In a sick and demented way, but it shows love.”

Hal nodded. “I knew when I spoke to Robbie and he called Frank an asshole. I knew something had to be done.”

“For Robbie to speak like that of Frank. It takes a lot. But do you think Frank wants to revert?”

“I think my brother feels he has to be in serious mode. He may be in that mode because of circumstances. That’s why we’re stepping in. As I told my brother, the people of Beginnings elected him for him. Hard headed, and dumb as an ox at times, but when needed, and where it is important, my brother pulls through. I want my brother back.”

“You miss fighting with him.”

Hal agreed. “You can say that.”

“I don’t think you’ll get a chance to at this meeting,” Elliott said.

“No. Neither do I. I don’t feel I’ll get a good Frank fight until he starts slipping back.”

“I’m not understanding the meeting.”

“What do you mean?” Hal asked. “He said it has to do with my father’s killer.”

“I was under the impression, Captain, that the killer was the clone.”

“We believe so, yes.”

“And the clone is supposed to be someone in Beginnings?” Elliott asked.

“That’s what we were told.”

“But the general populous doesn’t know that there’s a clone running around.”

“No, they do not.”

“OK, forgive me. But if they don’t know of a clone, and there is evidence or witness of your father’s killer. How do we convince the public that the actual Beginnings resident didn’t perform the murder?”

“We find the clone.” Hal said. “Problem is, we just don’t know who got cloned. We have an idea. Down to just a couple.”

“Then again it is possible …” Elliott paused. “Nah, never mind.”

“What? Don’t do that. What?”

“It’s confusing.”

“I’m not an imbecile, try me.”

“Ok.” Elliott exhaled. “What if the cloned Beginnings resident actually knows he or she is cloned and knows of the clone and uses that to his or her advantage so he or she could kill Joe and when they get caught they say it wasn’t them, it was their clone, and they produce the clone.”

Hal glanced over at him. “That’s retarded.”

“I would label it more confusing than anything else.”

“I wouldn’t.” Hal shook his head.

“I thought it was good.” Elliott replied, saw the glare that Hal gave him, and shrugged. “Maybe not.”

<><><><>

He stood before the mirror in the little back bathroom of the trailer by the quantum lab. He had just finished giving himself a haircut. Seeing his Beginnings counterpart, his genetic source, reminded him that even though the hair was slightly different, he couldn’t take a chance of being noticed.

It was hard enough being called his counterparts name. He preferred Roy. That was the name he gave himself when he was thirteen.

He wasn’t all that fond of Beginnings. He didn’t mind visiting, he did that often, but now he was stuck. The last time trip did something to the HG Wells, and he couldn’t get back. He needed time to work on it; unfortunately, he couldn’t do that without being spotted.

That was the last thing he wanted.

If Beginnings thought his counterpart was smart, they wouldn’t believe him.

Roy was an experiment.

A frozen embryo, labeled, and uncovered. A clone. The scientific community knowing of the genetic model used for Roy, experimented on Roy even when he was in utero.

The fake womb where he was in utero was filled twenty-four seven with audio versions of textbooks. Pumped into the amniotic fluid.

He didn’t have a normal child hood. He never saw another child at all until he escaped. At that point he had heard of them, but never saw one.

He spoke every language imaginable by the time he was nine. He mastered math and science before being a teenager, and by the time he was twenty, he was doing experiments for the government, solving problems that their ‘known’ top minds couldn't touch.

But he was freak. A mutant. A clone. And was left alone. His only exposure to family and life were hundred year old sitcoms, old Roy Rogers sagas, Charlton Heston movies, and old Hoi Broadcasting shows.

Growing up and even as an adult, his free time was spent reading and watching shows. He didn’t sleep much. Didn’t have the need for it. Nothing really exhausted him.

He envisioned himself many times with a wife and children and living in Society. But when it came down to it, Roy missed his seclusion and his own world.

He didn’t want to stay in Beginnings, so therefore he remained hid. He was tired of the hiding. The trailer was musty, cold, and didn’t smell good. The food he received was when he went into Bowman or into center town. How many times had Gemma said to him, “Wow you must be hungry? You’re back.”

But the trailer was his only source of seclusion, and safe hiding.

Watching his Beginnings counterpart afforded him the opportunity to pose as him when he need something. But admittedly, Roy got nervous. There wasn’t enough text book knowledge about his genetic model, so Roy risked being ‘outed’ every time someone talked to him.