Separation (18 page)

Surprised, Harry realized this man wasn’t
some power-hungry attention seeker after all. Perhaps another agent
would have sensed the opportunity and gone overboard, but Overton
hadn’t. He was all business, though, and sat up in his chair, eyes
alert. “We’ve got privacy here,” he said. “What’s on your
mind?”

As he relayed the information Farrell had
mentioned, Overton’s face grew pensive, and he clicked on the
computer and called up a few files of the now-defunct ASR. “We’ve
been checking into what Farrell told you. He advised me to do the
same thing. It’s all a matter of following the paper trail,” he
said.

“We’ll find Allenby’s holdings, eventually.
Derry’s been helpful, but he didn’t know everything. We can only go
on our own sources.”

“I’m more worried about finding Allenby than
what he has hidden.”

“Be worried about both.”

As they chatted over the possibility of
government agencies helping out, Overton mentioned things would get
started within a couple of months.

“Farrell did me a favor and pulled a few
strings. No promises, but we might get Social Services and a few
private companies involved. This won’t be checkbook charity. It’ll
be education, training... everything you asked for.”

It all sounded great until the obligatory but
moment came. It always did. “But there’s a snag here,” Overton
continued.

“And that is...”

“Funds are limited, even from the private
companies. The government is committed to helping out, but
people—human people—come first. The transgenic group, we don’t know
how many, what kind of training or education they have... nothing.
So until we get some numbers and actual visitors outside of Leo and
Istvan, then nothing will happen.”

At the mention of his friends’ names, Harry
asked about them. “Istvan’s being kept in a safe house up in
Herkimer County. Leo’s here.”

Herkimer County... Harry recalled a safe
house there. Secreted in the woods, ostensibly it offered isolation
and peace and quiet. He’d visited it once before and thought
himself and Anastasia safe, but another monster, Szabo, the shark
man, had come on a mission of mayhem, along with two other
mutations who met horrible ends. All the cameras in the world plus
motion sensors hadn’t done their job. “Security’s been beefed up
there, I take it?”

Overton’s face turned red. “I know what
happened before. To answer your question, he’s living the high
life, and we’ve got a full team on duty twenty-four seven. Nothing
is getting through.”

Uh-huh, that’s what they said the last
time.
Well, he had to trust someone sometime...

A knock sounded, and the door opened. Leo
waddled in. He’d devolved even more, to the point that only the
vaguest hint of humanity remained, and his speech, which had never
been perfect, sounded more indistinct. Still, he brightened when he
saw Harry. “I see my good friend. You have good news for me?”

He was talking about the Genesis Chamber.
Overton offered a hands-spread-wide gesture, as if to say
your
call.
“We can try it,” Harry said, “but I’m not sure how well
it will work.”

Leo’s face looked positively pathetic.
“Please, I will try.”

The Genesis Chamber was located in the
basement. In the past, only Harry, Anastasia and Farrell had
obtained the necessary clearance. Now, the mantle had been passed
to Overton, and he produced a pass card which he swiped against the
scanner. The door opened and the three of them walked in.

The room itself wasn’t overly large, but it
had enough space to house the Genesis Chamber, seven feet in length
and three feet wide. It sat in a corner, a thin film of dust
covering its reinforced duo steel-plastic shell. A DNA
differentiator, a medicine cabinet with some syringes, and a
worktable with an electron microscope and other medical
paraphernalia sat ready and waiting. Along with a computer linked
to the chamber, all seemed ready.

Harry blew off the dust and fired up the
computer that controlled the transformation. Leo gazed up at the
machine, his expression one of hope mixed with fear. “Is this
safe?” whispered Overton.

“It should be.”

It took a while for Harry to run the
calculations and set things up, but finally, all looked ready.
Still, this was only a theory, and there was no telling how the
body would react. Uttering a soft grunt, he gestured to Leo. “Climb
in. This might hurt.”

Silently, Leo entered and gave a paws-up
gesture. Closing the lid and praying to the genetics gods, Harry
threw the switch. Immediately, screams emanated from the chamber,
horrid screams of agony that denoted bones breaking, being reformed
and reshaped through the process of science taken to the limit.
“Get him out of there!” Overton cried.

“It takes about five minutes,” said Harry
through tight lips. He’d been through the same process, knew about
the pain, but it had to be endured. “We can’t interrupt it.”

The cries of pain continued and the seconds
ticked by with interminable slowness, but finally Harry cut the
power and pulled back the lid. His friend lay there, still in
animal form, unconscious, chest moving rhythmically. He’d reverted
back to his original mix of mole and human. “Did it work?” Overton
sounded skeptical.

No other answer save the one of “sort of”
seemed suitable... so Harry said, “Yeah, it did, sort of.”

Seconds later, Leo stirred, blinked, and came
to, touching his face. He then swept his eyes down his body,
especially his paws, and nodded. “I can think better,” he affirmed.
“I sound better, no?”

Not really, but... “I need to take a blood
sample.”

Harry took a syringe from the cabinet,
withdrew some blood from Leo, and fed it into the differentiator.
“It’ll take about an hour. Maybe you should sack out.”

“Thank you,” Leo said. “I go to sleep
now.”

Waddling out of the room, he took the lead
and they walked upstairs. A small storage room was on the second
floor, not far from Overton’s office. It contained a small
refrigerator and a bed. “We talk later?”

“Count on it,” said Harry, mustering up the
confidence to give a positive answer.

Leo clambered up on the bed and curled up.
Soon he began to snore and Harry went back to the basement to wait
for the results. Once they came in, he made his way up to Overton’s
office. The agent immediately greeted him with the comment of, “He
doesn’t look so different,” and sounded disappointed.

“I figured you’d say that.”

Actually, Harry wasn’t surprised at all, and
the blood test proved it. It seemed the regeneration process was
only temporary, but it didn’t explain why Anastasia hadn’t reverted
or why he hadn’t. After all, he was the one who’d brought her back
from her cat state. Perhaps Nurmelev had known something he didn’t.
The Russian scientist had used different chemicals with Anastasia,
but since he was dead and his journals destroyed...

“How long has he got before he devolves
again?” Overton asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Doing the math in his head didn’t take much
more time than using a computer to figure it out. Either way, the
result was just as depressing. “He’s got maybe a month, maybe a
little more. I’ll keep working on it.” It was the least he could
do.

“Yeah, and while you’re figuring it out on
the science end of things, I’ll do what I can on my end.”

A buzz sounded from his pocket. He excused
himself and pulled out a cellphone. A moment later, he handed the
phone to Harry. “It’s for you.”

Wondering what this was all about, Harry took
it. “Hello?”

“If you want to find out more about us, take
a look in your own backyard,” the voice said. Heavy, raspy, it held
the threat of menace and immediately a chill ran down Harry’s
spine.

“Who is this?”

“I can be your best friend or your worst
enemy,” the voice answered, and the next few words sent a
thunderbolt of terror throughout him. “Same deal holds for that
pretty kitty of a wife you’ve got. So the ball’s in your court, Mr.
Goldman. If you want to play ball, make sure you’re playing for the
winning team.”

After the thinly veiled threat had been
delivered, the line went dead and Harry tossed the phone over.
“They’re after Anastasia. I have to go.”

“I’ll drive you to the cabin.”

It was noon, the traffic was high, and no way
was he going to wait in a traffic jam! “I can’t wait!”

Immediately, he tore down the stairs, through
the lobby and into the street. Cars honked, people shouted, and he
ran as if his life depended on it. Actually, two lives were
depending on it. Midway through his journey, he got on the highway
and fell to all fours, reasoning he’d run faster that way.

His assumption proved right, and he bounded
through the traffic, not paying attention to the yells of the
pedestrians or the honking horns, heedless of the danger around
him.

Soon, the concrete gave way to the greenery
of the upstate area, the traffic thinned out, and once he got
within three hundred feet of the cabin, he stopped and stood
upright, assessing the area. Panting and trying to slow his
hammering heart, he sniffed the air, testing it for unusual aromas
and body smells...

There... as he neared the cabin, an odor hit
him smack in the face, or rather, his nostrils. It was the smell of
his own kind... a kind he didn’t like. Gamy and rank, it reminded
him of road-kill mixed with turpentine, a noxious and heavy,
pervasive stink that threatened to overwhelm his nose and force the
fine array of hairs inside to seek refuge elsewhere.
Anastasia,
oh God, Anastasia!

Fear overrode caution, and he ran to his
home. “Anastasia,” he called out, “are you okay?”

He got no answer, and dread filled his soul
when he spotted a trail of blood leading up to the cabin door. The
door itself swung on broken hinges. Afraid of what he’d find,
instead sweet relief flowed through him as he found his wife
standing over the corpse of another hybrid.

It was a lithe yet muscular animal with
antlers and resembled Bambi in many ways, with the spotted brown
and white body of a deer. However, the face was that of a ferret’s,
with almost no humanity in it. A pool of blood spread out from
under the body.

“Well, glad you finally got here,” she said.
“Did you run all the way?”

“Traffic jam... sorry I’m late.”

Anastasia blew out a deep breath. “Well, that
happens. I was sleeping and two of these things broke in. This
one’s a female. Her mate’s a little bigger, but I gave him
something to think about. He escaped, but I can smell him out
there, so he’s all yours.”

She had a few scratches on her face, but
seemed composed. The look in her eyes, though, was one of pure
violence, violence committed in the recent past and violence that
would soon be repeated in the near future if necessary. A moment
later, it changed from
kill
to
maim only
and she let
out a sigh. “I’ll have to clean up.”

“I’ll fix the door later,” Harry promised.
“What happened?”

“They came in, wanted to take me, and made me
the offer of going with them peacefully or not. I chose the
not
option.”

Allenby... it should have come as a shock,
but didn’t. The creatures out there had already proven the
mastermind was still alive and up to mayhem. “Did they mention
Allenby’s name?”

“Uh-huh... but they didn’t say where he was
hiding.”

She went on to relate how they’d threatened
to kill two lives. “That pissed me off more than anything,”
Anastasia growled. “No one is going to hurt my baby.”

Motherhood—he loved it, and loved his wife
even more. Harry embraced her gently and ran his hand over her
stomach. “You didn’t get hit here, did you?”

“No, they never got near me except the first
time. I’ll get Overton on the line—that is, after you catch this
thing’s friend.” Her voice rose in anger, but then subsided to a
faint growl. “You’ve got this, right?”

“I’m on it.”

“Good, I’ll make the call from bed. I need to
rest up.” She walked into the bedroom and closed the door after
her.

Going outside, Harry tested the air with his
nose. His wife had been right about the enemy still hanging around.
The gamy smell combined with blood led him to his quarry soon
enough. Following the source of the stink, Harry trotted two
hundred meters to his right and came upon the other ferret-deer
combo sitting on a stump.

This one, though, as Anastasia had indicated,
was larger than the first, a few inches taller than Harry and far
more muscular. It looked up and offered a horrific smile. Half of
its teeth had been knocked out, but they seemed to be re-growing at
an accelerated rate.

“Glad you could make it,” it rasped in a deep
and vaguely European accent and got off the stump. “Your wife hits
pretty hard.”

Harry tried to figure out where the thing had
come from, but right now that didn’t matter. “Apparently your mate
doesn’t, not anymore.”

The creature snarled. “I’m not going to kill
you for that, although I should. I should also kill your wife for
slaying mine, but I won’t. I will, however, hurt both of you very
badly.”

Okay, it was trash talk time, and Harry found
his rage building second by second. “You couldn’t even take on a
pregnant woman. What makes you think you can take me?”

A smirk—which resembled a gargoyle’s grin if
gargoyles had such an ability—formed on the creature’s face. “In
case you haven’t figured it out, I heal faster than your kind does.
I’m also stronger, and I’ve got a reason to kill you. Like I said,”
it rolled its neck around and tensed its muscles, “I’m just going
to hurt both of you. Killing you isn’t part of the plan, not yet,
anyway. The question is, who’s first, you or your wife?”