Pulling The Dragon's Tail (17 page)

I won’t allow myself the excuse of failure.
I’ve come too far. I won’t give up on finding HIM!

Thatcher’s review had brought him back to the
tiny house and the woman he now faced. He looked once more at her
from across her kitchen table, littered with newspaper clippings
and photographs. Although he was a voracious coffee drinker, the
cup she had served him was still untouched. It smelled too weak,
and besides, he worried about catching the SuperBug. A recent scare
had occurred in nearby Vermont. One could not be too careful.

Cripes, I’m rambling just like her. So, Ms.
Zealand, former professor of Cybernetic Mathematics and
Projections, what more do you have for me today? One more direct
question. Please have a direct answer!

Sitting up straighter, he stated, “Ms. Zealand,
you called me up here with the stated purpose to shed more light on
my investigation. So far, we, uh, it’s been mainly a review of your
life and of the well-known facts about your involvement in the
GDSP, the End-Date and why Maurice Emmerick was driven to insanity.
But with all due respect, ma’am, that was over twenty years ago.
You told me you had more—”

Her eyes flew open. It was as if he had placed a
spider in front of her. “My dear boy, I have told all I dare tell.
The powers out there are menacing. Suffering awaits us all! We
pathetic humans have pulled the dragon’s tail once too often. Watch
out! When the north Atlantic current becomes interrupted from the
tropics—that will be the sign of doom! The End-Date will be
here!”

Then her eyes softened, and her sweet smile
emerged, making her appear twenty years younger. Reaching across
the table with her wrinkled, gnarly hands, she gently patted his
hands. “I do thank you for your time, Mr. Grady. Please take these
with you.” She shoved a stack of old newspaper clippings in his
hand. A rusty paper clip strained to hold the papers together.

And just like that, Thatcher found himself on
the bullet train back to D.C. wondering what happened. As the
landscape whizzed by at 200 KMH, he was certain the other
reporters, in their quest for this Holy Grail, had felt just as
disappointed and embittered.

“Nate! Help!” Campbell’s desperate plea came
from several meters away.

Nate turned around. Already his extremities felt
numb and leaden. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

But with her energy drained, she slipped under
the freezing water.

“Campbell!” After a few powerful strokes, he
took a deep breath and dove under. The icy water stung his eyes.
Frantically he searched for her. Was that her? He couldn’t be sure.
His lungs were bursting.

He surfaced and desperately inhaled air.
Father Abraham, do not let this woman die! You must let me save
her!

Nate’s body began to uncontrollably shiver. He
knew hypothermia was only moments away. Only his superior
conditioning kept him going.

He dove back in again
. Where was she?
He
implored his body to move faster. But the pace was agonizingly
slow.

There she was! He grabbed for her unmoving body.
He missed. Should he surface one more time? No, he could do it.

He grabbed her and pulled. She didn’t budge.
Come on, Campbell!
He searched for the reason why. A tree
branch had snagged her clothing.

Then he panicked. Muscle spasms wracked his
body. One more try. Finally he pulled her off the snag.

With his full focus on maintaining his hold on
Campbell, he missed seeing what was floating overhead. His head
rammed directly into the wet soggy mess of an ancient log. He
grabbed for his head, in excruciating pain. He lost his grip on
Campbell who started to float away.

His hands tried to soothe his aching head, but
consciousness was slipping away.

Mere seconds remained of his Earthly life. The
Experiment aborted. His mission…a failure.

The last thing he remembered was a hand reaching
into his icy grave.

A second later, a hand cradled Nate, and placed
something over his head.

Father, take me home.

* * * * * *

The flames roared in the large stone fireplace
in the middle of the cabin on Lake Sasketchewa, filling up the
great room with its warmth and charm. Nate smelled the sweet
fragrance of burning pine and felt the toasty warmth against his
face.

He hesitated in opening his eyes. Surely he was
dead.
Was this heaven?
If he opened them, would the dream be
shattered? Despite the warm reverie he was basking in, he finally
forced them open.

All of his senses told him he was inside the
same cabin that contained the elevator that had led them to the
holographic building
. But how?

He was wrapped in a thick sleeping bag near a
roaring fire in the fireplace. Campbell was asleep next to him
.
I hope she’s just sleeping, and not…

The fire crackled and spat. His eyelids were
drooping. More sleep was not far off. Then suddenly
,
he was
wide awake
. Dugan! Where’s Dugan?

He struggled to sit up. The sleeping bag was
wrapped around his entire body with only his head exposed. He
wriggled his arms out of the bag and finally got into a sitting
position. He recalled his wound from the gun blast. He examined his
arm carefully. It appeared to be healed completely.

A figure behind him sprung up from a chair and
approached.

Her body was short and compact, lean and
powerful. Her skin was deep brown in color. She wore a one-piece
suit that revealed a shapely figure, except for a flat chest. “I
treated your gun wound with some medicine. I hope it is
better.”

Nate was startled.
A transhuman.
“Why,
ah, yes it’s better. How?” But then he wondered about his constant
companion. “Where is Dugan, my CCR?”

With a firm voice, she answered, “Dugan is
standing guard outside this cabin. He is making sure Browning Watts
doesn’t return.”

Then a realization hit him. Keeping a wary eye
on her, his mind processed his options.
Friend or foe? Did she
rescue us? Is she telling the truth about Dugan?

“You’re quite concerned about Dugan, but I can
assure you he is fine. He always has been. As I am sure you have
been told often, you have a very advanced CCR model. Call him, if
you want.”

Of course! Ice water must still be in my
brain!

Dugan responded, “My circuitry is undamaged. You
and Campbell have been asleep over thirteen hours. It is now
Thursday morning. Es says that you gave her quite a scare. I am
still pursuing the identity of the man who calls himself Browning
Watts.”

“Es. Es.”
Where have I heard that before?
From Dugan, of course.
“Now who is this person Es?” he
asked.

“I am Es.” The transhuman woman spoke up. She
brought a hot cup of tea over to him. “Dugan says you don’t like
coffee. I hope this spiced tea will do.”

“You’re Es?” Then he thought,
A transhuman
saved me? Oh great. She’s one of those all right. She’s removed her
breasts, all in the name of transforming humans into a superior
race.

He accepted the tea cautiously, and noticed that
she exhibited the feature that most people associated with
transhumans: a robotic eye. Her right eye protruded just slightly
farther out than her natural eye and possessed no discernible
cornea. It gave her a machine-like appearance, detestable to some,
intimidating to others.

She was almost machine-like in her movements,
and he noted that her head never stopped moving, slowly turning
left then right and back again. Her words were kind, but her speech
was deliberate and halting. All her verbalizations were flat and
even in tone, not evidencing any emotion. She had smooth, almost
glowing dark brown skin. Her hair was quite short, medium brown in
color. Lithe and agile in appearance, nonetheless, taut and
powerful muscles seemed to pulse throughout her body. Black boots
completed her lavender colored, skin-tight uniform.

He whirled around to keep an eye on her, as she
resumed her military-like stance in front of the large picture
window overlooking the lake.
What kind of implants does she have
beneath that bodysuit?

Then it hit him. He gazed at the lithe and
graceful figure. An African-American by heritage, she was
unmistakably familiar to Nate.
Many years had passed. Could it
be her?

“Talashia?” he asked tentatively.

She turned her head away from the window and
peered straight into Nate’s eyes. He thought he detected a bit of
irritation in her reply. “That was my name when you first knew me
in the Alpha Group. I am now transhuman, part of the Extropian
cause. You must learn to call me Es.”

He was dumbfounded. Where was the vivacious,
fun-loving Talashia? It was like she had been swallowed by a
…a…robot. He and Dugan had been painstakingly working to track down
members of their secret society. He had wondered if he’d be able to
locate any of them.
Now
, he wryly noted,
they seem to all
be finding me.

Nate stood next to the fireplace in the cabin
near Lake Sasketchewa. Instead of the dusty condition that he and
Campbell had first encountered, the cabin had been transformed into
a cozy abode. Es had thoroughly dusted the inside. Sunlight now
streamed in through open curtains, showcasing the large picture
window overlooking the lake. Tree shadows swayed back and forth
across the panes.

“What can I do to assure you that my mission is
to keep you safe?” said Es. The transhuman stood tall and erect,
hands at her side. Her robotic right eye scanned him. Her words
were crisp and evenly paced as she faced Nate from the middle of
the cabin’s great room. Campbell sat off in the small kitchenette
while Dugan remained on guard outside.

Nate stood next to a wooden rocking chair,
making sure it stayed between himself and Es. “There’s nothing you
can do, except just not be around.”

Campbell rolled her eyes, not believing what she
was hearing. “This is your old friend from the Alpha Group. How can
you just so easily dismiss that?” The RVT scanner, concealed
beneath her clothing, was turned on.

He paused, glancing back and forth, not sure who
he should direct his comments toward. Finally he looked at
Campbell. “Was. She
was
my old friend. Sometimes people
change, and it’s become obvious how much some in the Alpha Group
have.”

“Can’t you at least talk to her, sit down and
discuss it?” encouraged Campbell.

He made a beeline for the teapot in the
kitchenette. He poured another cup of hot water, and broke the
silence. “I won’t sit. I can talk from here,” he said
defensively.

“I will also remain standing, Dr. Devereaux.”
Es’s head had turned slowly toward the left, than a momentary stop,
before reversing course again.

Noticing Es’s odd head positioning reminded Nate
of this trait in other transhumans. He stared nervously at Es
.
My old friend Talashia, are you still in there, somewhere beneath
all that armor and techno-implants?
His irritation grew as he
focused directly at the robotic optical protrusion that disgraced
her face.

“Okay, I’ll just spit it out for our therapist
friend here. The history of interactions of transhumans with the
Church of Abraham hasn’t been a pleasant one. I’m sure Talashia is
well aware of that. Transhuman soldiers kill. If it’s not in your
blood, it’s most certainly in your job description. We’ve suffered
terribly at your hands, while doing the bidding of national
governments and para-military organizations.
And
I can’t
trust anyone from the Alpha Group right now. Dugan and I are
investigating if the man in the cave was also an Alpha Group
member.”

Es replied, matter-of-factly but with a hint of
emotion in an otherwise flat tone, “Skip, please do not let other
transhumans’ stupidity and violence reflect on me. I assure you
that I can be trusted completely.”

“Hollow words that mean nothing. And hey, I no
longer go by Skip. You are to call me Nate,” he said mockingly.
“And right now Nate needs a break.” He made a beeline for the
door.

Campbell followed him out the door and caught up
to his brisk pace. Interestingly her RVT showed high levels of
cortisol in Nate’s hippocampus, a strong precursor for violence.
But the scanner showed no signs of violent intent. “I know this
must be terribly difficult for you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Empathy,” he said coldly, as he
began walking along the northern shore of the lake. Dugan, acting
as sentry, followed two meters behind.

Campbell reasoned, as she silently walked beside
him,
Well, he didn’t dis-invite me; so I’ll invite
myself
.

Several minutes of silence followed. Nate walked
briskly and Campbell bravely matched his pace.
We each have our
own pain.

Finally she blurted out, “If it’s worth
anything, I trust her.”

“You better. She’s guarding your grandfather’s
cabin right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Nate stopped in the middle of the path, facing
Campbell squarely. Dugan sat on his haunches, a gentle cool breeze
toyed with his nano-manufactured tawny fur. “Look. Es is not on my
side. It’s as simple as that.
And
I don’t need you to gang
up on me either.”

“I’m not trying to gang up on you, but I can’t
just sit back and watch you avoid the matter. Somehow, it seems
like I need to remind you that you and I have set out on a journey
that has proven to be much more complicated with each step of the
way. So it makes perfect sense to have others help share the
burdens you and I face. Can you at least confront this situation
with Es- talk to her to at least try to determine if she’s
trustworthy?”