Thicker Than Blood (13 page)

"I got the call from the EMT's." Teressa started to sni?e. "I made the decision before he arrived." "I have the call record right here." Nathan shu?ed through more papers. He pulled a folder out and slammed it down on the table. "I believe the ambulance tech used the words, "'Slowly deteriorating condition' not exactly a death sentence." Joe growled a little. Teressa could not hold it in any longer. She started to cry, "I'm sorry, he was going to die. I couldn't let him die too." Through the sounds of her sorrow, Teressa heard Joe's sneaker squeak as it twisted on the floor. She was sure it meant he was angry. I don't want him to see me like this, she thought. She tried to hold back, but that just made her cry more. "Die too? Who died before?" Nathan asked. Marcie spoke, "Mr. Jones. Her sister, Joe's mother passed away some years ago." "Oh." Nathan was no longer so sure of himself. "Council Jones, I was privy to that call." Marcie was devoid of emotion. "I made a judgment call." Nathan looked surprised. "Really?" He was clearly caught off guard. Marcie continued, "Based on our experience with this technician, and the timber of his voice this was a warning of the most serious condition possible. In hindsight, it turns out my judgment was correct." Teressa looked up at Marcie's expressionless face through her tear soaked eyes. She couldn't believe her ears. Marcie just lied for me under oath. She felt Joe put his arm around her, she started to cry again. He's alive. That's all that matters.

He could taste the bile in his throat. Rage against his embarrassment coursed through his veins like fire, flexing his muscles. Any thoughts of his loving family drifted from his conscious mind. I have been humiliated by a sick child, Nathan thought. He mocks me, just out of reach, certain he cannot be hurt. He is weaker than I, and will be punished and made an example of. He knows about the nanites. He risks everything I stand for, for his foolish pride. He laughs and smirks and thinks this is some kind of game. People will kill us for these, all of us. They hate us. They hate him and he doesn't even know it, the fool. If Vallone thinks they won't just slit his throat and throw him in an icy river for a drop of blood, he is mistaken. We will all pay for that mistake unless I stop him. Nathan stared with bloodshot eyes at his scribbled note pad. I don't see how to get him. I must face Scott and tell him Vallone knows. Trembling with anger, Nathan sprung up from the bed in his hotel room and reached for the phone. "Hello." A familiar twang rang out across the line. "Hello Scott, it's Nathan." Nathan clenched his fists. "Well, Mr. Jones. What is your assessment." Scott Conner's voice was unusually flat and calm. Nathan felt his face pull taught and his gut wrench as he spoke his mind. "He knows." "By God, good thing we caught him. Did you send him to Guantanamo?" Scott's voice lifted a little, and his twang returned. "No." "What?!" "No, sir. Charlie and I could not find even one inference in the transcripts."

"What in the hell are you talking about? Failure is not an option Sargent Jones. Did you just tell me that he knows and we can't jail him?" council Conner was yelling. Nathan was back in boot camp. "He didn't admit anything sir." "Then how do you know he knows?" Conner was calming down. "His tone sir, I think he was mocking me." "Oh this is too much. You let him mock you? Did he hurt your feelings? I don't need to remind you, of all people, just how high the stakes are here." Now Scott mocked him as well. He felt his blood boil. Nathan tried to clear his head, I have to think right now. "Mr. Vallone was miffed about something from the start. He was angry when he walked in the door." "I see," Scott trailed off. "Our conspiracy strategy failed when Marcie Keith vouched for Dr. Graceland's interpretation of the EMT's commentary on his near fatal state. Sir we were unprepared for her intervention on Dr. Graceland's behalf." "It appears Dr. Keith has forgotten who owns her toys," Scott was thinking out loud, "Nathan. You will fax those transcripts to the office at the first opportunity. Somebody will find somthin' here," Scott's accent was almost unintelligible. "Pack your bags, you're with me on the big show. See your black ass at oh eight hundred at my office for a breakfast and a prep." "Yes Sir" "Call me Scott, Nathan. We're on the same side." "Yes Scott." I know somebody at MIR will find his mistake, I know I'm right. Vallone's arrogance would undue America's future. Council Jones smiled, the /thoughtUS would be a different place without Scott. He makes it happen, he keeps us safe.

"Mommy, why are you sad?" Damn she noticed. How stupid of me, how could she not? Lucy hung her head. "I'm not sad honey, just thinking." "No you're not." Finny crossed her arms and leaned against her mothers desk. She sealed the file drawer behind her with a clank. "You're sad." She must have seen me crying this morning. "Darling, I'm not sure what to do." "About what?" How can I simplify this for her, I don't want to hurt her fragile ego. "We may have to leave, because Joe may have to leave." "Joe's leaving?" Finny's eyes opened wide. "I don't see how he can't." "Why?" "Some people are mad at him." "Why?" "Because he asks why, and how, too much." "Really?" She never quite put it that way before. The whole thing was horrible. How could Joe let himself get involved in such craziness. Was the pain of his disease so terrible? She started to cry. "I love you mommy, don't cry." She ran to her mother and hugged her leg. She started to cry too. "I like Joe. He's nice." Finny sni?ed. "Me too." She felt more than she admitted. She hugged her daughter a little tighter. Someone knocked at the door.

"Hold on." Lucy yelled through the door. She grabbed some Kleenex and blew her nose, while wiping her eyes with her forearm. "Hold on." Finny said as she imitated her mother and wiped her eyes on her sleeve the same way. Lucy smiled. "Come in." The smells of industrial lubricants swept in as Mark opened the door. "Hi, Lucy. Sorry to bother you. Do you have a minute?" "Sure, Mark." He walked in a closed the door. He fumbled as he pushed his clarks up on his head. "It's about the shop, should Finny stay for this?" Mark asked. Not missing a beat Finny chimed in. "Yes!" she said crossing her arms. "I'm mom's helper." Mark looked at Lucy. He didn't seem to let on that he noticed her smudged mascara. Perhaps I can pull it together after all, Lucy thought. I think she can stay, I'm sure we can speak in euphemisms. Mark isn't that dense. She shrugged and smiled. "You heard her." Finny nodded smugly. "Lucy, please don't sell the shop." "I have to now. I can't afford the risks. I have too many roots to rapidly relocate like you guys can." She tried to talk above Finny's head. "I guess I see that." He hung his head. "You're the best boss I've ever had, and really important to the team. I don't think we can do it without you." Lucy looked deadpan. "I'm only your second boss." Finny giggled. "Oh, yea well, I guess that's true, but you're still the best." Mark paused. "Well you never know where this can go." She cut him off. "Yes I do, and it makes me really nervous." "Okay, maybe I can work for you later if this all works out." "If it does, I would like that." "Deal?" "Deal." She reached out and shook his hand. "Oh I just picked up three smaller ultrasound panels. They'll fit real good on..." She cut him off again. "I don't want us to know."

"Oh. Right. Okay. I'll be in the shop." He started backing out of the office. "Okay." Lucy smiled. "Working." "Okay." "On the cyborg." Finny giggled. "Right, the cyborg." Lucy repeated. The door swung shut. She knew he wasn't really going to work on the cyborg. Thank god he finally gets it, she thought. "Come on. Lets set you up in your playroom. Mommy has to make some phone calls." "Okay." Finny seemed to believe her mother this time. She held her hand as they walked to her playroom beside the office. She closed the gate behind her and folded the Japanese style divider up on the side of the playroom. The guys probably wouldn't be welding or using the air tools today. Finny liked to talk to them and watch when it was safe. She seized the opportunity. "Mommy, is Joe coming today?" "I don't know." She trailed off in thought. She thought of his smooth hands running down her naked back. She shivered. I hope he gets away with it. I want him to stay here with me. I want him to hold me every night and love me every day. If he could just come to his senses, recognize everything he is giving up. I could love him in ways he doesn't even imagine yet. Thunk. The door slammed open. Cold air rushed in. "Joe, how did it go?" Mark saw Joe past the door first. Lucy stood staring entranced by her daydream. Desire and shock swirling together. He slammed that door pretty hard, she thought. "I'll tell you." Joe came into view. His face was twisted with anger. She felt her stomach wrench. "Everything Kento said is true." "What?" He inquired without feeling. "They hate what I know. They hate who I am. They don't love the law, they love power!" Lucy put her hand over her mouth. "Sound's pretty bad." "No, it was good. I saw my enemy. He blinked."

Mark stood mouth agape. Lucy was frozen in her tracks. "I don't think they even know how it works. We have to expose these guys. We go all the way." "Okay." Mark nodded. "I've never heard you say so many words in one hour. I'm in!" Lucy's trance was broken. All those months of waiting for secret desires, for nothing. Joe would get away. Mark looked excited. "Okay here's what I found out yesterday." I can't believe how long I waited. I should have asked him sooner. One way or another, in a few days he'll be gone. I'll never see him again. "It seems they are tuned to your blood type with this variable." He pointed to the screen. Lucy was still frozen where she stood. He doesn't even see me. He's already moved on. She couldn't hold it in anymore. Her eyes started to cry. Why can't I stop crying. Lucy hid her face and ran back into the office. This is crazy. What am I doing. He's just a kid. The door closed behind Lucy. Of course he picked some adventure over an older woman. She started sobbing. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and there he was. She tried to push him away, and he pulled himself back to her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there." "I don't even know why I care so much." She sni?ed looking down. "I didn't know how I felt about you, until now," Joe mumbled. "Why not stop? It's so cruel." "I can't." She looked up into his eyes. "I wish we had started sooner. Why do I feel this way now?" He turned away and stared into space. "I love people when it's too late." It hit her like a ton of bricks. He's thinking about his mother. I'm being so selfish, I thought it was just me losing out. "It's not just you. I didn't know either." She held him close.

Joe's eyes watered as he stared at the computer screen. His eyes scanned over the lines of text Mark had input into the computer. He was methodically testing the nanites with slight variations on each command. The amber text jumbled along the left margin of the monitor. Long rows of sequentially incrementing strings flowed by, briefly followed by flurries of what looked to be less systematic text. That must be where he found a different response, Joe thought. The only constant in the terminal was a large number in the upper right hand corner of the screen. That number must be this nanite's address. Nice hack, Mark. Joe pressed the down arrow as he perused the lengthy history of Mark's all night session at the computer. I don't have any idea what any of this means, Joe thought. "Hey Mark." Joe nudged him. Mark put his hand up to signal stop, and pushed his clarks up on his head. Joe wasn't offended. He knew that the motion was meant for his clarks. "I don't understand what you are doing. What can't these things do?" "Oh lets see. There's about two megabytes of storage in each nanite, so you can do anything you can fit in two megs of 7 bit." Joe stared at him blankly. "Basically it seems like there is a simple high level robotic language and a simpler pseudo command shell. Most data needs to be separately coded into a simple hex database which seems to be a straightforward 128 character set with a simple linked list. The 128 character stuff threw me, international letters didn't seem a concern in the character map. It's only memory though, all communications are a variant of ASCII." "Uh, secret US government military project."

"Oh right, I guess they wouldn't care would they." Mark nodded his head and opened his eyes wide. "So it seems Propensky gate has been expanded from the famed failed design. It now can suck in or spit out not only carbon atoms but hydrogen, oxygen, and two more I haven't figured out yet." "So Propensky was right?" "Definitely, and he is smarter than people originally thought. These nanites actually logically string up to thirty two Propensky Gates together so you can set up a lock for a particular molecules key. It already has built-in routines for glucose, adrenaline, and dopamine." "Right, glucose, cool." "Joe, think about it." "What?" "You don't see?" "Don't see what?" "It's so obvious!" Mark sounded a bit smug. "What!" Joe was getting agitated. "Joe these things can cure you! Right now." The hairs on the back of Joe's neck stood straight out. No more building gadgets just to fix other things. No more joint pain. No more days of frantic worrying every time I bump into something too hard. I don't have to be the sick man anymore. "You're kidding." Joe's face lit up like a ten year old at Christmas. "Think about it, your problem is that your body can't produce any of a certain type of protein. Those proteins are just groups of molecules. If I create a file describing a grouping of thirty two unique atoms describing only that protein, nanites in your blood can absorb all the clotting protein like a very absorbent sponge." What was Mark thinking? "Uh that would make it worse." Mark looked indignant, "They could release them at the same rate your body could produce them. You could get a shot once a year and be perfectly normal." The gears in Joe's mind were grinding away. "Wait how about other things like it?" "Diabetics with no pancreatic activity could live ordinary lives. Liver failure a joke. Sickle cell anemia, respiratory disease, any bacteria or virus, clogged arteries. A few hours of programming for each, well maybe a few more for AIDS."

"Why not sell them?" How long has MIR been sitting on this, Joe wondered. "You could tell them to absorb pieces of healthy tissue too. They'd make a great weapon since they can survive room temperature." "Terrorism." "Probably." "Maybe they were trying to release a more fragile version?" Mark sounded sarcastic, "Right that's why the first programs they wrote were adrenaline and dopamine. Just what every ailing grandma needs." Joe stared into the space. He tried to imagine what boosted adrenaline, oxygen and dopamine would do to his physiology. I'd be strong, angry and complacent. You could hurt me and I'd live. The grim picture lit up Joe's brain. He mumbled a single word, "Supersoldiers." The young men were silent. "So we have to blow this open wide open," Mark looked unusually angry. "We have to test it first." Joe smiled. "How?" Mark looked befuddled. "On me." Joe surprised himself. "Joe that's crazy. What if there is a side effect? If it goes wrong and we bring you to a hospital, you'll wake up in a jail cell." "We could call my aunt." "She'll go along with it?" "It can't get worse for her." Mark's face reflected his skepticism. "Uh yes it can, hello jail?" "She'll go there if we blow this open." Mark looked remorseful. "Oh, sorry. I just thought..." He trailed off, visibly thinking. Joe wondered if his aunt had thought about who she was helping. Maybe she knows. Maybe she thinks this will cure me? What if she's in on it? Even worse what if she doesn't know? Why would she work with people like this? I need to tell her to get out, now. "You're right, people need the truth." Joe wasn't so sure he believed the truth was more important than his aunt. "So what do we do?" Mark looked concerned. "How many nanites have we grown?" "About 100 million."