Thicker Than Blood (7 page)

"They may come now," Amman stated. He was almost unintelligible between his thick accent and his scratchy voice. "I doubt it." Kento looked somber as he spoke, "One of my students is jailed for murder in a fight the police never responded to. His only crime was effectively defending himself. The prosecutor insisted his fleeing the scene proved intent. None of us make the mistake of subscribing to a cell service anymore. I use disposables and pay with cash." He pulled his cell phone and a separated fuel cell from his pocket. He tossed them in a nearby garbage can. "You are smarter than these two," Amman said. It sounds like Kento and Amman might get along, Mark thought. Joe stopped typing into the keyboard on his desktop computer. He stared Amman in the eye, "What'd you say?" Oh shit, Mark thought, here it comes. Mark went to say something, but Kento jumped in first. "He's right Joe," Kento said coolly, "You act with too much haste. You should control your temper and divert your anger into improving your restraint. Victory is in the mind." He's pretty cool, Mark thought. I think I like this guy. Joe looked surprised and defeated, his shoulders slumped. He turned and typed a few more keystrokes. Joe had recorded the adventure with the cameras in his clarks. His monitor blinked and the roadside battle began. The men all watched with rapt attention. Kento's words rang in Mark's head as he watched the fight. I wonder if Kento knows about Joe's disease. I guess they will have to find out if we ever want to use these things again, Mark thought. Joe knocked his assailant unconscious and fell to the ground next to him. "Joe you are so quick. We should dub this to a hyperbeat song. All I see are those guys reacting." Mark was very excited. "It's four frames a second," Joe said. "See Kento's pile of bodies." The truck screamed into view, and the trucker fired his gun. The men ran off. "Wow," Mark's mouth was open. Mark reached over Joe and paused the recording. He shuttled backward until the trucker was in plain view. "Wow what a great guy. Shotgun trucker..." Mark paused looking lost in thought. "Send me this video." "Okay." Joe stared at the image of the mystery trucker.

Amman walked away from Joe's bench and toward his messy pile of papers and the microscope. Kento looked in his direction and then followed him. Mark caught Amman glancing over at their absent gaze. He can't think we are watching him, Mark thought. He turned to Joe. "Now will you checkout the gyroscopes I just hooked up?" Mark purposefully sounded a little childish. "Yeah okay. I should work." Joe turned away from the video. They shu?ed over toward the pen containing the robot base. Mark hit a couple of keys beginning the sequence once again. Mark strained to hear the conversation across the shop over the whining motors. The routine stopped, leaving Mark with nothing to say. He was relieved when Joe chimed in. "I have an idea." Joe looked tired. "Okay?" "How about a second pair of arms?" Joe sounded hopeful. "What about regulations?" Mark said, "Aren't we supposed to be getting closer to a human form? Isn't that the point of the new rules?" "I think it's legal," Joe said, "The rules say only human style arms, and tracks or wheels for feet." "So it's legit because it's a human part, there are just more of them." Mark sounded excited, "Joe you're a genius. Two could grapple and two could attack! But what if they disqualify us?" "We can make them detachable." Mark's brain was whizzing with possible attachment points and remote control changes when Amman passed by. Mark was so distracted he was briefly shocked by Amman's proximity to him. Amman looked at Mark. "I'm going home. Robert's in charge." He was slurring badly. He was visibly exhausted. He went to the back of the shop to get his coat and keys. Kento was reading through Amman's numerous disorganized notes. Who's Robert, Mark wondered. Amman has completely lost it. He's imagining people. I guess sooner or later he had to give up. He has been going for three days straight. Mark and Joe walked toward Kento as Mark pondered Amman's strange statement. They cautiously slid over to Kento, afraid to encourage further domination of the microscope and ultrasound panel. They looked over Kento's shoulder at Amman's cryptic notes. They heard Amman close the door. "I think Amman is losing it. He was talking about somebody named Robert."

"Oh that's me," Kento sounded amused. "I got the name in high school." "Robert?" Oh, that was dumb, Mark thought. "The dumb kids couldn't say Kempo. I think they thought they were clever." Joe smiled. "Oh," Mark sounded relieved. "So what did they call Joe?" Joe frowned, and Kento smiled. "You don't want to know." Kento grinned looking at Joe. Joe stared Kento dead with his eyes. Mark couldn't help but smile too.

Nathan Jones hated group trips to the gym. He appreciated the virtues of a good workout, but that's not what usually happened. He and several of his coworkers would stand around and patiently wait for the menace to finish his work out. The menace would boast and brag as he benched the same hundred twenty pounds as he did every week. No one dared best him in athletics, so the whole thing was a giant waste of time for the larger men like Nathan. After the usual awkward shower experience, the men would silently reflect on the egotism that ruined their lives six days a week. Scott Conner, the menace, insisted on being naked in the locker room as long as possible. Strutting around and standing, in a pose that seemed almost meant to jut his flopping member further forward than anything attached to his body could be. The other men in MI Robotics seemed to suspect homosexuality, but Nathan knew better. Scott did this to intimidate and unnerve the other men. Surprise, shock and deprivation presented the best opportunities to instill fear and loyalty in other men. Nathan wouldn't have needed his time in the service to recognize the singular virtue of surprise. Yet, while continually unnerved, nobody was caught off guard any more. Nathan and the other men followed Scott to the checkout counter at the base gym. Scott bragged to the young woman soldier manning the desk. "Two hundred and sixty pounds. That's how much I could bench in the service days," he said in a southern drawl. "If I didn't spend so much time in pointless meetings I'd be bettering that right now." "Yes sir," the woman stated coldly. "You know my company is very important to the service. We have brokered over twelve major contracts and earned the Marines fourteen billion in patent revenue alone." "Of course sir," The unengaged woman replied. Scott continued as the men dropped their towels in the desk mounted hamper. "That uniform you're wearing was paid for by one of MIR's carbon catalyst patents. You'd be naked without us." Nathan scowled. Only a civilian could get away with such talk. "Thank you sir." The beleaguered woman remained resolve. "Well I have to go chat with the joint chiefs," Scott said with a twang. "I hope we can talk again soon." Scott quickly walked away. Nathan missed his daughters and longed to be home. After a sleepy morning of Saturday cartoons, they would be playing outside with the neighbors or their mother. If he was back home in Chicago, they would be throwing snowballs or making snow angels. Nathan was lost in thought as he walked. "Cicely, you and Laurence go to the shop and payroll the new design from DCR. Give Michaels a call and get his ass over here. Jones you're with me for the chiefs." "Yes sir, we're on it." Cicely sounded relieved. They immediately walked toward the parking lot. "Jones, go change. Meet me at thirteen hundred and forty five hours at the conference room." "Yes sir," Nathan stated weakly. Nathan walked toward his temporary quarters. When he arrived he changed into formal business wear. Nathan looked at his watch and decided that he had time to call his wife. He walked to the nightstand and dialed the phone. Nathan stared out the window at the base as it rang. The machine picked up and four voices sequentially answered. "Hi you have reached Luise, Emily, Malinda, and Nathan. Were not here right now, but please say whatever you like at the beep." "Hi everybody, I miss you. I'll call you again tonight. Something came up at work and I won't be home tonight. I'm going to try for tomorrow. Hope you're having fun." Nathan did his best not to sound as disappointed as he was. He was mostly successful. Nathan hurried out of the apartment to meet Scott at the chiefs meeting room. Scott was waiting. He was standing in the back of the room reading a legal sized paper. The spacious waiting room was empty other than the two men. Scott looked angry. He walked to Nathan's side and talked to him quietly as they waited. Scott moved his face as close to Nathan's as he could without touching it.

"This breach is your responsibility. This is by far our most ambitious project and your security framework sucks. If the chiefs realize how poor your contingency plan is there will be hell to pay." "But sir I had advised you of that initially," Nathan responded weakly. "When I want to hear what you think, I will ask. Now I have to think for you, and whose fault is that?" Scott's growing vocal anger worsened his now almost unintelligible accent. "Yes sir." Nathan automatically repressed his anger and desire to speak. "I expect that a sufficiently effective quarantine program is ready in case the chiefs so order it." "Yes sir." Nathan grew more angry every second. He couldn't wipe Scott's spittle off his face. His distant hand gripped into a fist. "Sir, the chiefs will see you now," a woman's voice drifted in from the door to the waiting room. Scott moved naturally away from Nathan wearing a broad smile. "Thank you ma'am." He began to walk toward the large double doors. The office was comfortable and sparse. It was decorated with wood furniture and moderate colors. Two large American flags hung by the far wall. Four men in uniform were waiting at the opposite side of a large wood table. As Nathan entered the room the woman closed the door behind him. One of the chiefs looked to Scott. "Counsel Conner, what brings you here?" Scott straightened and did his best to look neat. "Hello generals. MIR has a problem." "Weren't you starting new trial systems in New York?" the last general asked. "Yes, a civilian gained consciousness during an unplanned trial." "Unplanned?" the first general asked slowly. "His aunt, a doctor, used the oxygen nanites during an emergency procedure." There was a brief pause, "So you think he knows what happened?" a general in the center asked. "We don't know, MIR does not have those resources," Scott admitted grudgingly. "How long was he awake?" the youngest General asked. "About a half an hour according to the doctor in question." "We should not act with haste," The oldest middle right general said, "This sounds like a non-detrimental event."

"We are deeply concerned about the breach. We do know, the man has a technical mind. There is the remote possibility, he understands what was done to him." "So we may need to discredit him," The last general asked. "Prepare a variety of legal actions against him, council. But do not act until we can confirm carnal knowledge," the first general suggested. "I need your permission to treat the subject as an enemy combatant," Conner stated almost robotic like, "We would be able to prevent the leak from spreading if we detain him." "Make sure to focus the charges on something else, or he may spread the contamination on the way to Guantanamo." "We will prepare a case. I am anticipating the results of your probe." Scott smiled. Nathan understood the need to arrest the boy, but was still appalled. It was shameful how depraved and indifferent the world had become. Damn them all for not helping America isolate their enemies. How many innocents needed their lives disrupted or destroyed, because there was no cooperation to be had.

Mark's Toyota was sputtering again. Why did I have to buy a Japanese car, Mark thought. At least it's not German. My dad is livid about the cost of parts for his Beamer. Mark scanned the parking lot as he approached it. He noticed the van was gone, but it looked as if a light might be on inside. Mark pulled the sputtering Toyota over. He got out of his car and pushed the unlocked gate open. The activity light on a nearby motion detector failed to blink. Somebody forgot to shut the lights off and turn on the alarm, he thought. Amman went home late last night and his car wasn't here. He couldn't be back yet, could he? There's no way Joe slipped in, he doesn't do mornings, then again neither do I. Mark pulled his car inside and hurried to the door. It swung right open when he pulled it. "Damn!" Mark said aloud. He was frustrated with somebodies lack of care. Mark's optic nerve flickered with movement. He looked to his side and nearly jumped out of his skin. "Ah!" Mark yelled. Kento was sitting on the floor Indian style, with his shirt off. He was wiry and slim. He looked powerful despite his light frame. "Hello," Kento said calmly. "Wow, oh, hi," Mark's heart was pounding, "You still here? Did you sleep?" "For about four hours on the cot," Kento said, "I was just finishing my morning forms." "Kay," Mark was returning to his groggy morning mode, "Are you hungry?"

"Nope. Joe and I ordered in last night. I saved some rice for breakfast." Kento sounded awake. He began to stand up and grabbed his shirt. "Right. Rice for breakfast. I prefer donuts myself," Mark was amused, "Did you decipher Amman's notes?" "Something doesn't make sense." He talked as he donned his shirt. He walked to the large LCD on the microscope's side. He touched a button and the screen was filled with a spider web of connecting rods. "Did Amman mention this? I don't see it anywhere." He stared at the screen. "What is it?" "Those dots at the joints are nanites." Mark's jaw dropped. "Wow." "Look carefully." Mark squinted at the screen. The connecting rods between the nanites seemed to be slowly changing length. Wait! The rods aren't growing, they are moving toward me. "The web is drifting." "Keep watching." The web drifted for a few more seconds. Then it expanded snapping into perfect symmetry. A few seconds later it was drifting again. "So you turned them on?" Mark was really excited. He worked at not being childish. "No. I mean I don't think so. The good news is it doesn't seem to getting any bigger." He pressed another button on the microscope's side. "Take a look at this." He pointed at the screen. The image on the screen flickered and changed. On the right there were two small blobs with a few triangles sticking out, pointed here and there. The smaller blobs where alternating between blue, green, and red on the edges. The curved horizon of a much larger brown jagged sphere was on the left. The triangles on the larger left hand blob were seemed more random. Kento reached down and pressed a play shaped button on an adjacent touch screen. The objects started shimmering and wiggling. "See the blob on the right, that is a simple sugar," Kento spoke slowly. The image suddenly zoomed out and several more distant glucose molecule blobs were visible. Then a number blinked into life at the top of the screen and the shimmering slowed to a crawl. "I slowed it here so you can see the whole thing happen."