Thicker Than Blood (16 page)

"The ultra sound driver is really unstable. I hacked it to work with our model. If I change anything it may lose contact with the local antennas. I need to watch what is going on." This is going to be a couple of long hours. Mark felt flush with fear.

"You just asked me." Joe hung his head forward. "I'm fine." "Sorry. I, I, just want to be really sure. We're at one hundred percent. There might be some sort of numeric identity bug." "I do feel one thing." "What?" Mark looked worried. "Annoyed." Mark leaned back and crossed his arms. Actually I feel kind of sharp, Joe thought. I think I like this. Joe cracked a smile. "It's been a half an hour at one hundred. How about we try a test?" Kento suggested. "You want to bleed Joe? What if it doesn't work?" Mark looked shocked. Kento smiled. "Joe why don't you hold your breath." "Oh." Mark turned red. Sometimes it really scares me how Mark thinks, Joe thought. He began to hold his breath. He stuck his thumb up in air. Mark shu?ed over to his computer to watch the numbers. "It's like watching the grass grow," Mark commented. "No change here." Kento looked at his watch. "Forty five seconds, fifty, fifty five, one minute." Kento looked up from his watch. "Joe can you normally hold your breath this long?" Joe shook his head. "How do you feel?" Mark asked. Joe shrugged and stuck his thumb up again. "One minute fifteen seconds." "Still one hundred percent."

Kento looked up at the motionless mechanic. "Try moving around," Kento suggested. Joe started to do the twist. Mark and Kento shook their heads. "How about jumping jacks?" Kento asked sarcastically. Joe shrugged again. He began to do jumping jacks. "One minute forty seconds." Joe resisted the urge to move his diaphragm in tune with his body. The air in his lungs felt hot. "Two minutes." Kento's eyes widened. "That's my meditation record." "You didn't breathe for two minutes?" Mark sounded impressed. "The most I can do is thirty seconds, and I meditate all the time." Joe stopped doing jumping jacks. He gasped for air. "Wow. Two minutes and twenty seconds with jumping jacks." Kento smiled. "I wasn't dizzy or out of breath." Joe was breathing a little heavy. "It just." Joe hesitated, "I had to breathe." "Maybe this is the wrong kind of test?" Kento wondered. "Why did you stop? It didn't register on the ultrasound." Mark sounded perturbed. "It was like a reflex," Joe said. "Perhaps we need to give you air without oxygen," Kento wondered. Joe imagined himself suffocating in a black trash bag while Mark cheered him on. He shuddered. "I could run," Joe suggested. "You're used to running, that might work better," Kento agreed. "Do laps around the building so I don't lose contact," Mark suggested nervously. Mark grabbed a LCD tablet and touched it to his PC, which summarily beeped. The contents of his computer's screen and a small graphical keyboard appeared on his tablet as he followed the guys outside. I wonder how fast I can run? Joe felt his heart beating a little faster. My fastest sprint in school was about an eleven second, one hundred. Can I beat it now or will this just let me run longer? Maybe it won't have any effect at all. "Nice night for a run. I can barely see my breath." Kento took a deep breath. "Take it easy. We don't want you getting a heart attack because your blood is too heavy or something crazy like that."

"Right." Joe wasn't planning on restraining himself. Joe walked up to the gate surrounding the parking lot. Purple light from the sunset reflected off of the endless gray concrete and steel. Now this I'm built for, Joe thought smiling. He pulled his clarks from head and put them on. "Do a walking lap first," Kento shouted. Joe wasn't listening. He started jogging clockwise around the building. Within half a minute he reappeared on the opposite side. Kento gave him the thumbs up. As Joe passed the gate, he thought, it's time to finally test these things. Joe picked speed up to a total sprint. Joe felt his legs strain as he pushed forward as fast as his muscles allowed. Ten seconds later he barreled around the building again. As Joe came around the building a third time, he realized he wasn't even breathing heavy. He was having trouble keeping his balance, so he began following a larger circle. Will they give me some kind of signal if I go out of range, Joe wondered. The percent full indicator in Joe's Clarks changed to ninety nine. Joe looked over to see Mark and Kento jumping up and down just as he turned the corner. Realizing he was slowing down, he began to strain his thighs again. The blurry backside of the building drifted by as his long sprint continued. He rounded the corner and noticed Kento was at his motorcycle. Mark was yelling something but a gust of wind filled his ears. He felt his tendons throb as he zipped by the gate. He heard Kento's motorcycle start as they slipped out of sight again. He was starting to tune out the pain in muscles as he worked to stay upright on his tiny track. I seem to be going as fast as I ever did, he thought. The vector triangles displayed in Joe's clarks jumped to Kento and his motorcycle waiting at the gate. He started to slow down. Kento waved him on frantically. "Keep going, keep going," Kento yelled over his racer. Kento pulled away and rode next to him. His clarks read back ninety eight percent. He stared at the thin film on his lenses trying to see past his own footfalls. He looked over at Kento. "Eighteen miles an hour," Kento yelled over his exhaust. Joe smiled, nineteen was his record.

Kento pointed forward with his left hand as he rode. "Run straight as fast as you can." He must have seen Joe's battle to stay upright in the sandy parking lot. He broke away and ran from the shop. He searched for something to drive his legs faster. He cycled through high school bullies and shady relatives. Joe imagined their parkway attackers. Playing the scene through his mind like a movie. They would kill me for a car. Then he remembered his meeting with Nathan Jones. He would kill us all for pleasure. He felt his adrenal gland pouring fire into his veins. His legs no longer felt strained. He sped up. He heard Kento's engine rev as he switched gears. He thought he saw his indicator click down again, but Joe couldn't tell for sure. His legs were numb. He watched the ground for potholes as he ran. Joe's chest was heaving, but he didn't feel out of breath. He never ran his fastest, without consciously thinking about breathing. He saw the entrance to the industrial park coming up fast. How fast am I running, he wondered. I've walked this, it takes fifteen minutes. He felt fear and exhaustion come over his body as he burned his adrenaline away Joe slowed his pace to a jog. Kento stared at him, his motorcycle coasting, mouth agape. "What?" Joe managed to ask. "Twenty five miles an hour. You just ran a two and a half minute mile." Kento looked around "I'm sure that's a record." "I wonder if anyone saw," he wondered. "I hope not," Kento replied.

"Mr. Byrd why do you think I picked you for our team?" Scott Conner asked. "Because I understand the mission sir." Byrd glanced down away from Scott's gaze. "What is that mission?" Scott looked skeptical. "To, um to build," Marcus Byrd stuttered. Scott leaned forward and spoke quietly. "To protect. To protect our patriotic scientists. To protect our way of life. To protect people from themselves." "Yes sir," Marcus exclaimed. Marcus knew what to say now. Scott smiled to himself. Here I am, in case he forgets his place. "We didn't push technology to this point. We don't organize to threaten legitimate governments. But we need to keep the law on the side of the people." "Yes sir." "Do you know why I'm telling you this?" He spoke quietly. "You are teaching me sir." "Not exactly. I am honing your focus. You will be confronted by many people who have no foresight. They question your motives and accuse you of a thirst for power. We have thought it through and they have not." "Yes sir we have." "Have you been told about your first mission yet?" Scott asked with his twang. "No sir." "Your first year here will be spent working with the patent office. You will be given full access to all of the superior technologies at Datahold and expected to use your knowledge to identify potential leaks. Do you know how you will do that?" "No sir." "You along with a dozen other lawyers from MIR will pose as patent officers and review all pertinent applications. You will forward a copy of all potentials back to us and intercept all applications clearly in violation." "Has anything leaked from MIR before?" The young apprentice looked worried. "I hadn't heard anything about this." "We have an understanding with the DOD and Joint Chiefs of Staff. Betraying MIR is akin to treason and handled in a secret war trial." Scott paused and stared at his younger subordinate. "Are you comfortable with that Mr. Byrd." Marcus looked down. "Yes sir." "In that case you are a fine man. I knew you were the best candidate when I saw your service record and your final paper from Yale law. MIR and the United States are lucky to have you helping fight terrorists and terrorist states. The rule of law will prevail." "Yes sir." Council Byrd was grinning. "How soon until you take your bar exam?" The phone on Scott's desk interrupted, buzzing once. "Council Conner, Nathan Jones is here to see you." He pressed a button on his substantial phone. "Send him in." Nathan has been failing at pinning down Vallone. He had better have some handle on the situation, Scott thought. The mahogany door swung open as Nathan Jones strode in the room. "Council Jones. This is council Byrd our latest addition to Datahold. Council Jones is our top lawyer at MIR on criminal action, and war crimes. Nathan Jones shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. Welcome aboard team DH." Nathan smiled weakly. Nathan looked right at Scott. "Mr. Byrd our time is up. Please see Abagail, and she will guide you through the next step." "Sir it was a pleasure." Marcus Byrd smiled while shaking his hand. "The pleasure is ours." Scott smiled thinly. The men watched intently as Marcus walked to the exit. "Nathan, what the hell are you doing." "Scott."

"We know Vallone knows about the nanites, we know he hates you and MIR and we can't stop him?" "The laws in..." Nathan was cut off. "I don't care what the law says, we will find evidence when we search! It won't matter anymore then!" Nathan stared at Scott. You better not be glaring at me boy, I'll put you in a coffin, Scott thought. "I came here to tell you, I think I've got him." Nathan paused. "I'm pretty sure we can get the warrant now. Its premise is weak legally, but it should be enough for a raid." "What's your angle Jones?" Scott was seething. "There were a couple of phone conversations. Joe was asking for more protein for his hemophilia ahead of schedule. We know Joe got a shot two weeks ago. Dr Graceland went to his father's house to wait for him but he never showed." "So?" "Dr Graceland wouldn't get involved unless he was sick. Vallone has full medical insurance though his aunt." "So?" "So why didn't he go to the hospital? Maybe he still has nanites in him." Scott raised his eyebrows. "He doesn't still have nanites in him, he wouldn't know where to start." "But with his aunt involved in it he might, and the court doesn't understand that anyway." Scott's face lit up. "It might just be enough. In case it's true we'll need a full swat team at his house, Graceland's house, and that shop." "Yes sir." "Don't let this be a cluster-fuck like that Greenly idiot," Scott spat. "Greenly?" Nathan looked confused. "He's that dumb fuck who let the UNC carbon servo patent through. Now we're two patents off from a working public nanite. We have people there, we could have stopped it." "I didn't hear about that sir." Nathan grit his teeth. "Of course you didn't, because you're nobody." Nathan looked furious. "Sir maybe if you let people go home for a weekend and see their family, people wouldn't make dumb mistakes." Scott got red in the face as he yelled in southern slang. "Who the hell do you think you are council. The fate of the world is at stake. We can't maintain superiority, and all you can think about is what video you're going to rent this weekend? We need a commitment from you or there will be nobody left to rent it to you, much less to watch it with. You get down to the courthouse now and get that warrant." Say no, I dare you, Scott thought. His adrenaline was flowing freely. "Yes sir." Nathan was rigid as a board. "Now get to work and earn your exorbitant pay." "Yes sir."

Lucy was stroking Joe's hair and kissing his ear. Her soft sheets covered his nude body. Joe felt the small hairs stand up on the back of his neck as she laid her head on his chest. He looked deeply into her brown eyes and felt his heart skip a beat. Could this be love? It was more than just his boyish yearning, much more. Thump. Joe had walked right into a sign post. That was some daydream, he thought. I nearly smashed my Clarks. He shook his head. Who knows when I'll get time alone with Lucy again. Joe's cell phone rang. He looked at the number, it was Kento's cell. "Hello?" Joe kept walking as he talked. "Hey Joe, we're here. We ran into a little delay so I'd say it will be an hour and a half before we can meet you back at the shop." Kento's voice faded in and out. They must be having trouble sneaking the microscope back into storage at the lab. "Okay. I'll see you at midnight." "Don't be late. You can plan your backpack while you wait for us." "I won't," Joe stuttered, "Be late I mean." "I knew what you meant." He heard Kento's smile. He hung up. What will I tell my Dad, Joe wondered. He's going to be disappointed. He'll be so lonely, I may never see him again. What about my aunt? She will be destroyed. He felt the shame of his actions wash over his body. His nearly teenage mind and body couldn't cope with the weight of how this would change her life. He decided to think about Lucy and Finny instead. He walked in a daze, thinking about the quiet family life he secretly wanted. Like his parents, he would never have it. I love Finny so much, he thought. She is such a sweetheart. I could be a good step-dad. I know I could. If Lucy and I could have had tonight, I could have convinced her to come with me. Joe strode on in a mindless morose, on the verge of tears. As he approached the shop's industrial park, he could swear he could see their building in the distance. A light was on. He pulled his clarks off and rubbed the budding tears from his eyes. All the lights were on. "What the hell?" he said to no one. He slapped his clarks back on and tapped his arm computer. His clarks HUD came into view. He began to run across the stretches of moonlit parking lot. A figure hurried out of the shop with an armful of stuff. He broke into the fastest sprint he could. I have to hold back in case there is a fight, he thought. I wish I hadn't eaten so much dinner. The figure climbed into a small red car. Joe recognized him. It was Amman. Damn that bastard. Now it's on. Amman started his car and began to drive out of the shop gate. Joe doubled his pace. It's now or never, he thought. His oxygen gauge ticked down. His ears were filled by the sound of the air rushing by them. He ran so fast his thigh muscles felt as if they were ripping in two. The green arrow displayed in his Clarks, the red car's speed vector, grew longer. He was losing Joe. He slowed to a jog. Damn, what is Amman up to, he wondered. He turned around and jogged back to the shop. He was shocked when he ran through the door. The shop was turned upside down. Amman's notes. All their slides with nanite samples. The ultrasound equipment. The computers. Even the bowls the nanites were grown in were all gone. Every light was on. Every door opened. Every drawer was emptied on to the floor. Oh my god, he thought. The lawyer was right. The extremists will stop at nothing. His stomach sank to the floor. It's my fault. Who knows what he'll do with it. How many people will die.