Rise of the Transgenics (11 page)

“She should be home now,” Jason said and
pounded on it while repeatedly pressing the doorbell. “Hey, we’re
here!” he announced in a loud voice. “You said that your parents
were still at work, right? So open up, will you?”

Wonderful, bring more attention to us, Harry
thought as he made a cursory check of the area. He cursed his
friend’s careless attitude, but at this time of the day, school
hadn’t let out, and most of the residents were at their jobs. Only
the cold air and the sights of winter snow and sleet abounded. Oh
wait, neighborhood watch, and the yelling continued.

A second later the sound of a woman’s voice
yelled back, “I’m coming, stop ringing so loud, I heard you!”

The door opened, and a tall, slender young
woman with long straight black hair stood there wearing the same
clothes as Jason.

His gaze went back and forth between them.
They resembled bookends, a matched pair.

“Okay, I’m here,” she announced, “So
what’s...?”

Her voice died away when she saw the figure
of Anastasia approach and her eyes widened with a look of
this
isn’t happening
in them. A tiny squeak of disbelief burst from
her throat. “Uh, Halloween came and went a couple of months
ago.”

Anastasia’s lips tightened and her voice came
out with a warning note in it. Swiveling to face Harry, she said,
“I didn’t feel like waiting in the car.”

Quickly turning back to face the woman,
Anastasia made her position clear. “I’m not trick-or-treating, this
isn’t makeup, and if you don’t move I’m going to do what the cat
does to Snoopy. You understand me?”

Time stood still, the girl didn’t move, and
she threw a helpless look at Jason. “Is she kidding?”

“No, she isn’t,” he answered evenly.

Her mouth fluttered. “But...this is...”

Anastasia grabbed Maze’s shoulder and the
other girl winced. “My name’s Anastasia, I’m a transgenic, and this
is my boyfriend,” she announced while indicating Harry with a jerk
of her thumb. Introduction over, she pushed her way in. “Deal with
it and be a good hostess, okay?”

Harry and Jason entered and Jason shut the
door. Maze stood there, stiff as a statue. Then she grabbed Jason’s
hand in order to pull him into another room, presumably the
kitchen.

A few seconds later, the sounds of running
water, a glass smashing on the floor, and loud whispers flew back
and forth. Even though the door was closed, Harry still took in
every word.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone
like that over here!”

“If I had told you, you would have said no,”
Jason responded, a pleading tone in his voice. “You gotta do
something.”

Their conversation continued, the voices
growing more heated. If they were angry, then Anastasia was turning
positively nuclear, as her fur stood up, her ears twitched madly,
and her eyes narrowed into slits. Finally, she growled in a voice
loud enough to reach into the next county, “I heard you. I really
don’t want to lose my temper. Jason said you could help, and we
don’t have much time.”

One second later, the geek duo returned with
Maze’s mouth opening and shutting like a fish that had suddenly
been dropped onto land. After a few seconds, she ushered them into
the living room, a place awash in electronics. Computers, most of
which were desktops, dominated the area, and the rest of the space
was taken up with a few couches and one rocking chair.

“Are you...are you real?” Maze said.

“Do people have to ask stupid questions?”
Anastasia shot back. “Yeah, I’m as real as you are. I have fur, but
as for the rest of me, I’m a girl.”

Maze continued to stare, and then let out a
somewhat incongruous giggle. “Your outfit is cute.”

“Uh-huh.” Anastasia didn’t seem impressed by
the compliment at all. “I like yellow. So what’s your story?”

Perhaps it was the commanding tone in
Anastasia’s voice, for the other girl gulped and nodded. “My
parents are computer techs, and I take after them,” she said in a
small shaky voice, still staring—but trying not to. “Yeah, I’m a
geek.”

Anastasia returned the stare, but without the
anger. Instead, a look of amusement crossed her face and she echoed
Harry’s earlier thought aloud. “Yeah, and you and your boyfriend
were made for each other.”

For his part, Jason cleared his throat and
proffered the bag. “Tina, we need a little information and—”

“And it’s over your head,” she interrupted.
She snatched the bag, rooted around in it, and took out a large
chocolate bar.

Examining it critically, she put it back and
continued to sift through the bags’ contents until she gave a
satisfied “aah” and pulled out a handful of carefully
wrapped-in-silver foil balls.

“I didn’t have much time,” Jason said,
offering what seemed to be an apology. “I grabbed what I
could.”

Maze flicked her hand in the air in
dismissal. “You always say the same thing.” She glanced into the
bag and a smile crossed her lips. “This is the stuff of life,” she
murmured and went over to the nearest computer.

Sitting down on a chair, she unwrapped the
offering, popped it into her mouth and swallowed it without so much
as chewing it once. “You guys, you might as well take a seat while
I work. I don’t like to have anyone hanging over my shoulder.”

Explanation given, Harry and Anastasia took a
seat on a couch while Jason sat at another computer. “Tina works
better when she’s got chocolate in her system,” Jason explained
while booting up a desktop. The screen lit, and he tapped a few
buttons. Seconds later, the main screen of a game
appeared...something about alien invaders and starships. “It’s all
about the sugar rush.”

Maze let out an angry grunt. “I’ve told you a
million times that my name is Maze.” She swiveled around in her
seat, a look of supreme exasperation on her face. “My real name is
Tina Mazerowski, but only my parents call me Tina.”

“So what’s your story?” Harry asked.

Maze let out a snort of either amusement or
disgust. “My boyfriend didn’t tell you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Anastasia answered.
“We just got here, remember?”

Another snort came their way. “That figures,”
Maze said. “Like I told you, my parents are computer techs. I grew
up around this stuff, wrote my first program at seven, built my own
computer—programmed it, too. When I was twelve, I got kicked out of
high school for bypassing the security code and changing all the
records. I did the same for a couple of friends of mine who went to
different schools.”

“She also managed to change a few bank
records,” Jason added. “ATM’s are really easy to mess with.”

“Satisfied now?” Maze asked.

Harry was suitably impressed. “Yeah, you must
be good.”

“Darn right, I am.” She aimed a look of
curiosity at Anastasia. “So what’s
your
story? I mean, I get
that you’re transgenic, but...I don’t get how—”

“I got this way?” Anastasia finished for her.
“I’ll make it really simple. I was born in Russia. A scientist
changed me, and my boyfriend’s been trying to change me back. But
first, I have to know who’s been behind two other people like me,
and that’s why we’re here.”

“Two other people...”Maze started to say, and
then her eyes widened. “The news reports!” she exclaimed and
snapped her fingers. “I heard about it when I was at university
this morning, but I thought it was all bogus...and now you’re here.
It’s all...it’s all true.”

“Yeah, there are monsters walking around,”
Anastasia stated entirely without sarcasm. “And I need to find out
who’s making them.”

For a moment, it seemed as though Maze was
deciding whether to chuck it all or go through with it, as her
hands fluttered around the keyboard. Harry held his breath and
hoped she’d come through for them. One second, then two, and then
two more passed, and with a sharp exhalation of breath, Maze
hunched over the buttons, furiously typing in some commands and
soon the screen lit up. “I’m ready,” she proclaimed.

While Harry breathed out an audible sigh of
relief, Jason’s face wore a look of pride. “After she got kicked
out of school, she went to the Board of Education and apologized.
She promised not to do it again.”

“And of course I did,” Tina said, her fingers
dancing over the keys at light speed. “But I don’t use it to steal
money. I’ve got ethics, okay? I mean, outside of computer
programming, I’m also studying economics. Make the system work for
you.”

Jason stifled a brief laugh and offered a
little more information. “She got her nickname because she can
navigate any firewall trap, program, and system there is. “If she
wanted, she could hack into the Pentagon or the Kremlin tomorrow
and crash their systems.”

“I’d do it, too, but they don’t serve
chocolate in prison,” she mumbled. Her mouth was now full of the
sweet stuff, and a tiny river of chocolate dribbled down her lip
before she hastily wiped it away and asked, “So what am I looking
for?”

“We need you to run a check on a private
company called ASR, Advanced Systems Research,” Harry said, gazing
around the room, totally astounded by the vast array of computers
and software. This place was seriously wired.

“They made some kind of deal with the FBI and
funded some research, but I need to know if they have any ties to
foreign companies or are doing anything unusual, like paying out
unnecessary expenditures or having links to foreign
governments.”

“Piece of cake,” she replied. “Give me ten
minutes.”

Like a pianist about to play a symphony, she
raised her arms and started to pound on the keys, but lightly,
gently, almost reverently, and as she played, the magic began to
happen. Numbers and diagrams and screens flashed and disappeared
like a meteor shower of data. After eight minutes of continuous
work interrupted only by her snatching chocolate from the bag with
a lightning fast hand, she leaned back in her chair and gave her
verdict. “I got nothing.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, starting out of his
seat. “You found—”

“Nothing,” she repeated, and sagged down,
voice weary as if the sugar rush had suddenly dissipated. “ASR is
what it says it is. I went through the mainframe of its database,
went through all the levels searching for something like what you
wanted, and came up with zilch. I’m not an accountant—yet—but
according to their official documents, every expenditure has been
accounted for, all the personnel check out—at least on the
surface—and they have no ties to any foreign government.”

“I don’t suppose you could find out if they
have any hidden programs...” Harry started to say.

She speared him with a look that made him
feel worse than dumb. “If you’re talking about ghost drives, I
checked for them. If they
are
there, then someone else is
holding them on another computer. All I know is what you asked me
to find. I’m not a mind-reader, you know. If there’s anything
hidden, then it’s in another location.” She folded her arms across
her chest in a movement that indicated nothing more could be
done.

This was more than a letdown. What else could
they do? Anastasia walked over and stared at the screen. “Can this
computer handle Russian to English or English to Russian
translation?”

Maze cast a quick look at her, still looking
somewhat unnerved. Finally she unfolded her arms, tapped a button,
and waved her hand like a maestro conducting an orchestra. “It can
now. What do you want to find out?”

“I need to know anything connected with a man
called Nurmelev.” Anastasia spelled the name in English, and then
typed it into the computer.

Maze shot her a look of annoyance. “Please
don’t touch my stuff,” she said. “Computers are like, you know,
sacred.”

“This is important,” Anastasia stated, and
her voice went up a notch. “He’s dead, but he used to work with the
KGB and run a program that made people into people like me. I need
to find out if there are any labs, and...”

The computer geek had already begun to shake
her head. “Russia is a closed country,” she stated in a
matter-of-fact manner. “I can find out what the KGB is doing now, I
can find out what their Prime Minister ate for breakfast, but
you’re talking about deep cover. They’re probably so well hidden
that people only know by talking and not by computer. And this is
Russia, so no one’s talking.”

It was a given that Anastasia was already
aware of that fact, but this was one extremely desperate situation.
“Please,” Harry said as he walked over. “Someone there turned
Anastasia from someone like you into someone, er, different. We
have to know.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Maze wanted
nothing more to do with it all, but Jason interrupted by saying,
“If you’re that hot, you can do this.”

A snort came from her lips. “Boyfriend, I was
made
to do this. Give me thirty minutes.”

Jason went over to another computer and began
playing a game. With nothing better to do than to wait, Harry and
Anastasia took a seat on the lone couch and waited.

Time passed, and only the sounds of bleeps,
bloops and squeaks came from Jason’s end, while his girlfriend
continued her search, occasionally reaching into the bag to grab
another carob-infested treat.

“I’ve got something!” Maze announced, and
immediately the three other people in the room raced over to her
position. “Is this the guy?”

Harry peered at the screen, and the familiar
face of Nurmelev stood out. Although this was an image of younger
man—the Nurmelev they’d met had been bald and in his sixties, while
this picture showed a man twenty years younger with thinning dark
hair—the piercing dark eyes stood out, as did the cruel smile on
his lips.

Anastasia started to growl deep in her
throat, her hands balled up into fists, and for a moment he thought
she might actually smash the computer. “Yeah, that’s him,” she
said.