Super Born: Seduction of Being (4 page)

“
Do you see the year?”

I nodded.

“
Do you see the medals around their
necks? Those Russian women won 67.3 percent of all the medals that
year. They are all gold!” When I failed to see the import, he
frantically found a video file on his laptop and played it. “The
woman in this video is the most famous female celebrity of Russia
from 1972-1976, Olga Settchuoff. She was their biggest model, their
biggest movie star, their record-holding cosmonaut, and a
world-class competitive cheese roller.”

He played the video. It was a short film clip
from one of Olga’s movies. She said a few lines in her native
Russian, then turned to the camera for a close-up. When she did,
her gray eyes suddenly flashed blue and then green like a
lighthouse.

“
Holy crap,” I mumbled. Remembering
the look I had received from the blond in the bar, I glanced back
over at her seeing her in a totally new light. “Did you see
that?”

“
See what?” asked Jones

“
Olga’s eyes, did you see what her
eyes did?” I exclaimed.

“
Oh, yes, my friend, her hazel eyes
were her trademark. Lovely, don’t you agree?”

“
Hazel? Hazel eyes, my ass! She has
gray eyes, and didn’t you see them explode blue, then
green?”

Jones was puzzled. “There was no explosion, my
friend. Perhaps it is because this is a digitization of a very old
film. Everyone knows about Olga’s hazel eyes.”

I looked at the laptop and started to realize
how crazy I was sounding. Then paranoia began to creep into my
head. Maybe Mom was right about being too friendly with myself. The
flashes were a sign that it was making me go blind.

Then a thought hit me. I leaned in toward Jones
and whispered, “What about her?”

“
What about who?” asked Jones
looking around uncertainly .

“
The woman over there…”

“
Where?” jumped Jones
frightened.

“
What if she’s one of…them?” I said
pointing a hesitant finger toward the blond.

“
One of who?”

“
You know…a superwoman.”

Jones smirked and shook his head. With the
mystery gone, he stopped whispering. “For a minute there I thought
you had seen my mother following me again… Logan, I understand that
you are new to this project, but do you see where we are? “ Jones
said holding is hands open to the whole room. “Do you see those
guys running around with antlers on their heads? That one’s got a
beer bottle in his ear for Christ’s sake. Do you honestly believe a
superwoman would end up surrounded by morons in a dump like this?
Besides, I have been… shall we say, researching the women of
Scranton for some time now. While that woman may have heightened
skills like advanced dwarf tossing ability or crushing you with her
thighs until your eyes pop, I am afraid that if she is in a place
like this, the benefits of epsilon radiation have … passed her
by.”

“
You sure?” I whispered
unconvinced.

“
Trust me. My intuition and
scientific acumen tell me that she, while lovely…with dreamy Hazel
eyes,” he said seeming to get a bit lost in her, “Is not the
superwoman we are looking for.”

I glanced over at her again. Just as
I did, she looked up from her phone, smiled, and her eyes flashed a
brilliant hypnotic blue then green.
Maybe
she’s not the superwoman ‘you’re’ looking for but she looks pretty
damn good to me, I thought.

“
No, Logan, the woman we are looking
for will be very difficult to find. She will be well disguised and
protecting her identity and that of her family like gold…Not
hanging around in bars making silly faces with antlers on her head.
If she were that easy to find, believe me, I’d have found her
already.”

“
I’m sure you’re right Doc.” (What a
freakin’ liar)

I had become so involved by then that Jones
knew he had me. He nodded. “Yes. I can see you are intrigued. This
video came from my friend and colleague Demitri in Moscow. Demitri
was my professor at Oxford. We are working on this project
together. This movie is now restricted and stored in high security.
That alone should tell you that the Russians are trying to cover up
their experimentation with epsilon. But he managed to smuggle it
into Germany and emailed me this footage.”

But how does this stuff in Russia go with what
happened here in Scranton?”

Jones smiled because he knew he had the answer.
“Guess what building is located just behind this bar?”

“
I drove by; it’s a beer warehouse.
What does that have to do with it?”

“
Yes, my friend, it is a beer
warehouse
today
,
but what do you think it was between 1967 and 1989, the year the
Cold War ended?”

I shook my head. How could I know? Was it a
trick question?

“
It was the Miles Research
Corporation, now known, thanks to the Freedom of Information Act,
to be a front for the CIA, their Behavioral Sciences Section!”
Jones had become so excited he literally seemed to take on another
personality for a second. “How’s that for your Cold War,
mind-altering research shit?”

“
So you think this Miles Research,
CIA, whatever, was trying to keep up with the Russians’ research on
epsilon radiation?”

“
If they ever wanted to win another
Olympic medal, they were…just think of it as Russia’s perfect
weapon. They use epsilon radiation to make entire Western armies
into morons who might just shoot themselves like these assholes,”
he said, as an RFD wearing antlers ran along the top of the bar,
chased by the barkeep, who was frantically attacking him with a
towel from below, “who can’t reproduce because they can’t even see
the women, let alone know what to say to them.

“
Worst of all, their superwomen
would then be the best in every field. America loses its biggest
export, Hollywood movies. Russian superwomen would rule the box
office—not to mention the complete loss of the American porn
industry! It would be an economic disaster! They would just walk
through our defenses, and we would be powerless to stop them for at
least two half-lives of epsilon radiation, or about thirty
years.

“
Look what has happened to Scranton
since the epsilon release—years of a slowing economy, the
population drop, the birthrate drop, high alcoholism; the mafia has
moved in and taken control. This is the model of the plans Russia
had for the entire economy of the U.S. First, they would strike
Europe, and then the US mainland.

“
But something went terribly wrong.
Whereas the epsilon ray experimentation has only affected Scranton
in the U.S., it seems to have had massive, wide-reaching effects in
all of Russia. Look at what happened to Russia since their release
of epsilon radiation—a bankrupt economy ends the Cold War,
population and birthrates drop, alcoholism runs rampant; the mafia
takes control of the country. Can’t you see the parallel
connection? Do you still think a cowboy president Ronald Reagan
bankrupted Russia and ended the Cold War? Or was it the result of
their years of research in epsilon radiation gone out of control,
like Chernobyl?”

I remember looking at him puzzled,
blinking, and then
mumbling something
stupid like, “What was the third choice?”

I’m fucked…I’m fucked,
glowed my laptop.

“
I know this is a lot to absorb in a
single sitting, but do you see the basis for my theory, and the
importance of it to us all?”

I remember looking at the blond, looking at the
RFD morons around me, and finally asking Jones to show me the Olga
video again. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t imagining those
eyes. But when I saw it again, she flashed me a blue/green eye
glance that about melted my shorts. To my surprise, I could see
Jones couldn’t see the change in eye color as I did. Maybe I did
have something unique to offer, not that I knew what that
meant.

I knew then that Jones was on to something,
maybe just something crazy, but maybe something big. But what I
didn’t know was how it was going to take over my life. I glanced
over at the blond to find her sense my gaze and give me the most
welcoming smile I had ever seen…felt throughout my whole body. I
smiled idiotically back then, like an Eight grade boy caught
looking, I snapped my head back to Jones trying to pretend I had
not been seen. “Yeah, I think you’re onto something here, Doc…but I
can’t just write about the theory.”

“
No, no, of course not, my friend.
This is just the introduction, the wetting of your whistle, so to
speak. We have the RFDs as evidence,” he said, gesturing, as a
young man wearing antlers plowed full speed into a pillar beside us
and fell backward on to the floor. “We need to find proof of the
other half of the equation, the superwomen, before we go public
with this puppy. I could use your help in this. In Russia, Demitri
is already trying to locate Olga Settchuoff and the women on that
Olympic team. He’s also having a lot of luck with superwomen in the
Russian personal ads, if you know what I mean,” said Jones with a
wink and smile. When my unimpressed face didn’t find the idea of
his friend getting lucky amusing, he continued,” Just yesterday, he
said he had found the small town where he believes Olga has hidden
herself.

“
You and I need to find the Olga
Settchuoff of Scranton.” His eyes widened with every word and he
slowly leaned across the table until he was inches from me. “Once
we find her and verify her powers, we go right to riches, fame, the
Nobel Prize, and maybe even TV talk shows.”

Maybe there was a story here, or
maybe there was just a bunch of half-crocked men, an
epsilon-sniffing professor, and an asshole in need of money. (I’m
not saying which one was me.) But if I could write about the safety
hazards of pigeon poop in the park system, then I was certain I
could write about this, if the price was right…
Anything over 25 cents
, said my empty
pockets. Then I glanced over again at the blond to see if she was
looking my way. No such luck, but she did down another bottle of
beer. Man, I loved the way she finished that last drop at the end.
It meant she enjoyed her work…
Crap, where
has my mind drifted off to
?
Focus, focus!
I realized I
was holding down a key on my laptop and had just made a page full
of the letter
q.

It was time for the Doc to put up or shut up. I
didn’t want to lose him by being too greedy, but I sensed an
opportunity here. “I also can’t write for free. This kind of
journalistic research will take time, travel, and a lot of greased
palms.”

“
Oh yes! This I know! I assure you,
Logan, that you will be well paid for your time. Next time we meet
I will have a retainer fee for you, and there is more where that’s
coming from…trust fund, don’t you know.”

Hearing those magic words was enough for me.
“You got a deal, Doc,” I said, reaching for his little hand to
shake with image of a paycheck enabling me to date a beautiful
blonde as my reward.

He took my hand and gave it a ferocious shake.
“You won’t be sorry; I am promising you this! Just wait till we
find this superwoman. Mom will be so proud…and she wanted me to be
a surgeon!”

We packed our cases, put on our coats, and
started moving toward the door. I remember how excited Jones was to
have converted someone to his theory. You could feel the energy
oozing out of him—or maybe it was just the epsilon.

I too felt the excitement of being part of
something that transcended the day to day. I just hoped there
really was a paycheck in it.

Then there was the added excitement, south of
the border, brought on by the fact that Jones was leaving, and this
was my opportunity to introduce myself to the blond. I knew this
was a scientific experiment and I should listen to the Doc and not
interfere with the controlled conditions and that she could ‘fry me
like an insect’, but man did you see the way she could lick a
bottle? After a furious battle with myself, I decided to leave with
Jones to keep him happy and then return to meet her. I began acting
out in my head what I would say to her, searching for the
always-illusive perfect line.

It was a great plan, a great plan until she
spoke, “How are you boys doing tonight?” she asked as we passed
her.

I felt like an ass, but all I could say, and
all Jones could say, were a few slurred, senseless syllables—the
SSS effect, as it later became known. I think Jones even drooled a
little as well. Mr. Macho! I had wanted to approach her, but now I
was reduced to Jell-O in her presence—lime Jell-O, the kind no one
likes. We slowed as we passed but spoke nothing coherent, while she
stared at us in near disbelief urging us to speak with encouraging
gestures with her hands.

We continued in silence out the two sets of
doors to the street with stupid grins on our faces.

Outside, I followed Jones across the street
until he stopped in front of another bar, The Banshee. By then, we
had regained use of our brains. He shook my hand. “Thank you again,
Logan. I will be in touch with the details of our next course of
action in finding the Scranton super female. I am sure the answer
is somewhere in here,” he said, tapping his briefcase. “As you can
see from that woman at the bar, there are exceptional women here in
Scranton, but it is the queen bee, the one who benefited most from
the epsilon release that we are after. Now, if you will excuse
me.”