Rebel Lexis (10 page)

C
ORKIAN
P
LASKETT

“Cork…let me up.” Jason spoke into the monitor.

“Man, I’m glad to see you!” said the slightly pudgy face appearing in the monitor.

“Waiting for the outer door to open, Plaskett!” Jason impatiently sneered.

“Give me a second.” The screen went blank, and the outer door of Corkian Plaskett’s tri-level town home opened. Wearing only large boxer shorts, Cork stood at the top of the stairs scratching his belly. “You look like shit, Jason!”

“Thanks for the break down,” Jason sarcastically responded when stepping up the staircase.

“What in the hell happened to you?” Cork questioned sharply in the hallway after examining the battered man closely.

“Plausible deniability; the less you know, the better,” Jason exclaimed.

“It’s that bad?”

“You really don’t want to know but let me just say, I have to meet with the Undersecretary at the Office of Earth Transport and Trade Commission in a few.”

“I guess you don’t want to come in and stay awhile.”

“I’m kind of in a hurry, Cork…here’s your bag,” Jason said handing Cork the small duffle.

“Did you get the extra souvenirs like I asked?” Cork asked before looking into the bag, and after a quick inventory, his face lit up like a small child on Christmas day. He continued saying, “Yes! You’re fantastic, Jason.”

“Listen, Cork, this is real important…I need your help.”

“Anything for you, my friend,” Cork sincerely replied.

“I need an advance on the next five shipments.”

“Your troubles are that bad, Jason?”

“I can’t tell you right now but think real hard about all the times I’ve come through for you.”

“Sure, sure…I can transfer you the credits later today,” Cork replied.

“Thank you, Cork, you’re a life saver. I really do mean that, buddy.”

“Semper Fidelis!” Cork replied.

“Semper Fi, Cork!”

With the advance coming, Jason left Cork’s home feeling more at ease. He thought about the profitability of the black market, and knew the mood enhancement drugs manufactured by PHARMATECH, would easily cover any expense associated with Sofia.

PHARMATECH was licensed by the Polaris Corporation to manufacture mood enhancement drugs to help tame and subjugate the populace across the Galaxy. Albeit, the drug was illegal in Polaris, making it a huge windfall of profits for any black market traders. John Grier, Corkian Plaskett and Jason Bjorn kept the only viable supply open to Polaris.

O
FFICE OF
E
ARTH
T
RANSPORT AND
T
RADE 

“Jason Bjorn, two days ago, we detected an EMP strike near the Devonian Enclave. Less than eight hours later, your emergency responder activated on the Pacific Rim Plateau, three hundred miles north of the Middle American Pacific Polaris Pipe Portico. We then detected, three miles from your location, a nuclear event. Maybe you could enlighten this office of these occurrences, and most important of all, why did you deviate from you normal mission?” Under Secretary Harold Ainsworth glared down from his draconian looking pedestal, and frowned.

“What answers are you looking for?” asked Jason. He then paused to shift in his seat before continuing. “Look Mister Under Secretary, I can only point out what you already know; I innately uncovered a Vrilion plot against the Corporation. If I hadn’t inadvertently collided with the cloaking tower, you would’ve never discovered the existence of the hidden Vril military installation.” Jason paused again, and shifted nervously in his chair before continuing. “The question I pose to you, Mister Secretary, what are you going to do about the threat?” he asked, signaling non-negligence.

“Polaris security is beyond your scope here, Mister Bjorn!”

“It might as well be, since I am in the thick of it, Mister Secretary.” Defiantly Jason stood his ground.

“Do not deviate from the questioning!” the bureaucratic man snapped. He then hesitantly adjusted his black robe before continuing the inquest. “Did you supply the Vril with Enriched Nuclear Power Rods?”

“They’re just a harmless source of energy, and I delivered them to a Fissure Point client and resident, Learner Rotterdam,” Jason truthfully misdirected the man.

“Learner Rotterdam?”

“Yes, Learner Rotterdam of Fissure Point…you can’t blame a guy for trying to improve his financial situation.”

The Undersecretary paused reading information off the semi-translucent screen of the scroll pad, and asked, “Did you not serve in the same Military Unit with a Major Learner Rotterdam?”

“Yes, he was the Information Officer during the battle of Titan. He was more than useless, he was dangerous, and he was the Valles Marineris of ineptitude. Now that I think about his betrayal, he was probably working for the Vril during the Titan War.”

The Undersecretary paused, held his hand to his right ear, and listened intently to instructions given to him in a hidden earpiece before speaking. “Jason Bjorn, The Office of Earth Transport and Trade Commission finds no fault in your actions. This case is closed!”

Dumbfounded, Jason leaned forward, and asked, “Wait, what just happened here?”

“The Office of Earth Transport and Trade Commission has deemed you innocent of any wrong doing this day. The official inquiry regarding your actions is concluded. Good day, Mister Bjorn!” he malevolently mouthed with a disappointed frown.

S
HANGRI -
L
A

The tumultuous week caused Jason’s head to spin, so to take the edge off, he decided to pour a stiff alcoholic drink. Before gulping down the liquid forgetfulness, he held up the rocks glass, and stared into the glistening warm amber hue and pondered.
“My life is similar to this shimmering light in the bourbon, refracting uncontrollably in every direction.”

Walking to his bedroom, he left a trail of bio-wear that he had carefully peeled off earlier. From head to toe, his whole body was sore; but when he positioned down for a long deserved sleep, he could not stop thinking about Sofia, and just before he dozed off, he thought,
“She’s not human but has more compassion and love to share than any human I’ve ever known.”

“Wow, eleven hours,”
he thought while trying to focus on the clock next to his bed.

“BUZZ! BUZZ!” The phone rang again when the home monitoring system began to repetitively speak in a monotonous voice. “YOU HAVE A CALL! YOU HAVE A CALL! YOU HAVE A CALL!”

“Hello,” Jason answered.

“Mister Bjorn. This is Mabel from SYNTECH. We have good news for you. The damage to your SYN was not as bad as first thought.

“Really?”

“Really, Mister Bjorn,” Mabel answered.

“When will she be released from SYNTECH?”

“She will be repaired in about a week; you can pick up your SYN then.”

“You don’t know how this makes me feel…thank you very much, Mabel!”

“You are welcome, Mister Bjorn, good bye.”

Jason stretched in his bed, and relaxed under the thought of how things were sliding in the right direction. However, naivety was not his strong point, and he knew with baited breath, the ball would eventually drop.

Climbing out of bed, and concerning his employer, he wondered the repercussion that would befall him.
“Most likely I’ll be running shipments between miner camps on the moon, worst place to work in the Galaxy,”
and he shuddered at the prospect of being assigned there. After putting on a fresh set of bio-wear, he ambled out of the small bedroom into the living room; designed as an open floor plan, everything was compact for convenience. Just as the walls at Fissure Point or the interior of the Chameleon, his domicile came equipped with an interactive Skin. “Home Skin.” The wall came to life, and he continued saying, “Block all commercials. Display only news and weather.” The wall’s information followed him into the kitchen area, where he began to fix breakfast. He watched closely for any news regarding the Vril installation.
“Nothing’s being broadcasted about the covert military installation.
They must be blacking out the information, that’s the smart play.”

“DING! DING!” rang the doorbell.

“YOU HAVE A VISITOR. YOU HAVE A VISITOR. YOU HAVE A VISITOR.” The home monitoring system began to repetitively announce in a monotonous voice.

“Yes, I know for Pete’s sake,” Jason yelled at the System’s repetitive prompt.

“Colonel?” Jason was surprised to see his old Commander standing outside of his apartment.

“Can I come in, Jason?”

“Yes, of course, Colonel,” he happily said into the display. Before the door opened, Jason swiftly covered his physique up with the robe that draped across the couch.

“Sorry to disturb, but you may already know why I am here?”

“And the ball just dropped,”
Jason thought before he guardedly asked, “Why does my business concern a retired Colonel?”

“Forgive me for my indiscretion. I work for the Office of Polaris Security Services,” he said while handing him a card regarding his Office.

“You work for the OPSS?” Jason shockingly asked. Pausing momentarily to soak in the information, he continued. “I never would have thought you for a OPSS agent, I figured you would be enjoying retirement up on Level 8 by now, Colonel.”

“No, I live on Level 7, and please, call me Aldiss. I retired my rank a long time ago, Jason”

“Would you like some tea? Bourbon?” Leaving off from last night, Jason walked over to the counter, and poured a tall drink before continuing. “You’re here because of my run in with Learner, and the Vril?”

“Yes, the whole thing was advantageous for us, and I am here to debrief you,” Aldiss replied.

“You act as if I still work for you, Aldiss.”

“It’s either that or you can take your chances with the Office of Earth Transport and Trade Commission.”

“Ah, the puzzle is solved! I was wondering who my fairy godmother was in the Undersecretary’s ear bud.” Jason guzzled the bourbon and quickly poured another. He then held up his glass before continuing. “And by the way, thanks for clearing me of the charges, cheers!” Jason downed half the alcohol in the glass.

“Are you in, Jason?”

Reluctantly he nodded. “Yes, I’m in but I have some conditions.” He hated being under anybody’s thumb, especially a man who nearly got him killed on several occasions in the past; to numb those memories, he drank the rest of the bourbon in his glass.

“What are they?”

“For this or any future missions, I want to pick my own team. You’re going to have to sweeten the pot for them too… making it worthwhile for them to join. Also, I want to have my DNA upgraded to Level 7, and I want to be financially viable, so I can live comfortably there on Level 7. No more of this bullshit Level 4 living. I want all the latest security options on the Chameleon. I want my SYN cleared for security and combat arms. I want the highest rank in the OPSS you can obtain for me. And, Colonel, I want all this before I lift one fucking finger.”

“I would say you drive a hard bargain but you served under me honorably, and I know you will again… I believe I can make it all happen.”

“Then what’s next, Aldiss?” Jason asked with a hint of cynicism in his voice.

“Tomorrow, be at my office bright and early…”

“Where’s your office, Aldiss.”

“I’m on Level 7. I will have my assistant transmit your orders this afternoon, but you’ll have to stop by the Heath Ministry for your DNA upgrade. Plan on spending most of the night there.”

“Yes, I know how the upgrades go.”

“Tomorrow then, Jason.”

Aldiss Spline walked out of Jason Bjorn’s apartment, and after looking around his living quarters he couldn’t blame the man for negotiating. The secretive man then hastily made his way out of the apartment building, where he reflected,
“What a dismal existence,
if I had to live in such squalor, I’d kill myself.”

D
NA
U
PGRADE

Jason moved in a fog of surrealism, the feeling he had was as if he just won the lottery. However, when he entered the cold lobby to the Heath Ministry Medical Facility, he knew his euphoria was quantifiable, and not just some intangible concoction Aldiss Spline created. Just a few days ago, he would have never fathomed the thought of Leveling up again. No matter how hard he had worked, he felt could never save enough for the process; and for the next thirty-five years, he thought he would just watch the aging process take hold; turning old was not an acceptable concept to anyone these days. Leveling up to a 7 DNA upgrade, will triple his age; giving him a life expectancy of four hundred sixty-five years.

“The treatment will take ten years off your life, and add another three hundred years to which you will live. By the looks of you, you’ll probably look no older than twenty-five years of age. Your immediate energy levels will surge, and you’ll feel as youthful as a teenager. However, this adolescent youthfulness will only last for about ten months. Your hormones will fiercely course through your veins, causing your sexual metabolism to peak like you are going through adolescence again.”

“Yes, I remember the last time my DNA was upgraded, doctor. Can we just get on with it please? All this chatter makes me nervous.”

Physically, Jason looked like he was in his early thirties, but he was actually one hundred and fifty years old, almost twice as old as the people with Level 3 DNA.
“They’re not much better off than the Fissure Point Colonist or Devonians,”
he thought while waiting for the procedure to begin.

Jason was laying face down on the surgical table when the doctor plunged the long needle into the base of his spine. A flash of blood variegated with the spinal fluid when he pulled back on the polished metal plunger, filling the glass-body syringe. After withdrawing the syringe from between Jason’s lower vertebrae, the doctor turned, and injected the specimen into the DNA Recombinator Centrifuge which was stationed next to the table.

The doctor calibrated the machine, and watched the internal centrifuge begin to spin; and then he spoke. “Okay this will only take a few minutes, and then we will begin the bone marrow injections.”

Thanks to the painkillers, Jason could only feel tiny little pinpricks when the doctor bore into his femoral bone. Not only to keep his appendages from moving, his upper thighs and arms were fastened down by shiny metal medical clamps; placement holes helped guide in the long hollow needle like drills into the thickest part of his long bones. After the drilling, a tiny core of thick meaty marrow was then extracted from each, and added into the recombinant DNA concoction spinning in the DNA Recombinator Centrifuge.

The Medical Assistant constantly wiped away the oozing blood around the bore sites. Several lengthy metal tubes protruded from Jason’s long bones, when the doctor calmly spoke. “We are just waiting for all your DNA to fuse.”

“Aw, doc, and here I thought we were waiting for the next Millennial Phase,” Jason sarcastically replied.

“No, it won’t take that long, Mister Bjorn.”

The DNA Recombinator Centrifuge beeped, and stopped spinning, indicating the machine was finished combining Jason’s DNA with the genetically modified material. The doctor then inserted the long needle into the port on the machine, and after withdrawing a yellowish-orange soupy mixture; he then took the glass-syringe full of recombinant DNA, and injected it into his right humeral bone first.

“Can you feel the surge yet, Mister Bjorn?”

“Not yet.”

“You should feel it soon… just remember to remain still; we still have metal bore’s attached to your limbs.”

After the doctor repeated the process for each long bone he spoke with confidence. “Mister Bjorn, we’re all finished with your up-grade process. My Medical Assistant will remove the metal bores; after, she’ll place you in the healing chamber for a quick treatment.”

“OK, doc, thanks for the hard work,” mouthed Jason while looking down on to the floor, through the padded hole in the table.

The doctor left the room, and before the Medical Assistant removed the last metal boring devise, Jason felt the surge. A rush of energy gushed throughout his entire body; he could hardly contain himself, his mind splashed with incredible thoughts of doing fantastical feats on an unimaginable acrobatic scale. Every muscle’s fiber twitched uncontrollably; his penis painfully thickened so hard that he thought it was going to pop. At first, he wanted to run wildly naked having sex with everyone, starting with the sexy Medical Assistant who helped fastened his naked body down to the surgical table. Then his mind quickly turned to anger as he thought of Learner’s betrayal. He imagined running across the barren wastelands to Fissure Point and ripping his limbs off.

The Medical Assistant grabbed Jason by the shoulder and waist, before saying, “Mister Bjorn, I am going to help you turn over. You’re going to feel a little wobbly.”

After turning over on the table, Jason blushingly spoke. “I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, Jason apologized when his erection nearly impaled her face.

“Don’t be, this happens to me all the time,” she said coolly, and Jason wondered if she knew how that sounded.