I tried to reach his dog, Sassy, but she was asleep in her house, not with him.
“Where is he?”
“Police headquarters. I can send a car for you, Danny. Just tell me where you are.”
“Tell me what precinct,” I countered, and when he did, I hung up. Dialed information for the number and called.
“WMPD,” a bored voice said, “Precinct 20 – 77. How can I help you?”
“I want to talk to the Senator,” I said.
“Try the Senate,” he snickered.
“Senator De Rosier. You’re holding him for questioning. I’m his lawyer.”
“Yeah, you sound like you’re twelve years old,” he sneered.
“If you don’t give me answers, you dickhead,” I snapped, “I’ll hit you with US732.5, section 6 and you’ll need a Racehorse Haynes to keep you out of the poor house!”
“Okay, okay, Councilor. Keep your shirt on,” he put me on hold and I laughed. I’d told him I would sue him over a defecating dog on the sidewalk. He came back in five minutes, and sounded cautious.
“He’s in Interrogation with two Homicide Detectives. I can’t interrupt. Can you wait? They’ll be down in five more minutes, ten tops.”
“I’ll wait,” I decided.
“What’s your name?”
“Dan – Daniel Hillerman,” I used Dad’s chauffeur’s name since I was stupid enough to start saying my own.
“Okay. Hang on, then. I’ll put you on hold.” I heard the click and waited.
The dog came over and stuck his head under my hand so I petted him. Looked and saw that he was a she. “You got a name, Blue?” Of all the animals’ minds I’d been inside, not one thought of themselves as humans do, a sense of personal self, a name that identified themselves. No self-awareness, just a sense of belonging to a particular person or not. This Heeler cross did not have a sense of a master. I felt sad for her. She lifted her head to stare at the door. Barked and before I could get up to check, dudes in black riot gear were jumping in through the windows and door.
She yiked and ran under the table and as I turned to bolt, someone tackled me. I fought, knees and elbows and teeth, but made little progress against their Kevlar and tactical uniforms.
In thirty seconds, I was zip-tied hands and feet, flipped over on my stomach, my jeans pulled down so my ass hung out bare. I screamed. Felt a cool alcohol swipe and the bite of what felt like an enormous needle. Then, nothing.
*****
What’s the docs say? He safe to move? Rumble, rumble rumble.
Eyelids are flickering. He’s coming up. You’re going to give him another dose?
Whew. This kid bruises easily. Look at those black and blues.
BP is normal, pulse, respirations are fine. I hacked his medical records, he was on steroids, Elavil and Tramadol. See no reason to change that.
“Danny, can you hear me? Wake up, Danny.” Someone slapped my face. I swallowed. Thirsty. My arms hurt. My butt cheeks throbbed in the same spot, and I felt hot. I gagged as the movement of my head triggered nausea.
“Tummy upset?” His blue eyes stared at me and held a pink basin under my chin. I spewed, heaved until my ribs ached. Wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
I was in a room with padded walls, no windows, a cotton mattress coming out of the wall and the chair he was sitting in a toilet of stainless steel, minus its cover and a sink. The door was solid with tiny windows at eye height. “This is a prison cell,” I managed around the taste and smell of vomit.
“Yes.”
I smashed the basin into his face and ran for the door to find it locked. Kicked it, bounced off and turned to confront him, dripping with my mess on his hair, face and shirt front. He held his temper, but that I could see he was pissed.
“Danny, we can keep you drugged and tied up, you know.”
“You know who my Dad is? My girlfriend’s father? You’re in big trouble when they find out I'm missing. You better let me go.”
“Your Dad thinks you’ve been kidnapped, Danny. He’s waiting for a ransom note.”
“In jail?”
“He’s not in jail, Danny.”
“But I heard you –.”
“Yes, Danny. And we want to know how you hurt us.”
I shut my mouth and then, begged, “You can’t do that to my Dad, it’ll kill him. Not after he lost Mom!”
“It’s kinder to make the break once and final, Danny.”
I stared at him in horror. “Who are you people?”
“NSA.”
“You’re going to tell my Dad I’m dead?” I screamed and launched myself at him. He grabbed my fist, whirled me around and bear-hugged me with my feet off the ground. I tried to smash the back of my head into his face, but he tucked his to the side and I whip-lashed myself.
The door slammed open and a bunch of other dudes ran into the room and tackled us both. I went down on the cot, smashed my head into the padded wall hard enough to see stars. Felt them stick me in the hip through my pants and rolled me over. Shooting pains went up my head and down my back. I blinked slowly as their faces revolved around me in slow tidal surges. I remember crying as if my heart was broken, and then nothing. I went under praying I wouldn’t wake up.
Chapter 13
Of course I did. The same little room only this time I was drugged with something that made me feel like a zombie. I lay on the cot staring at the ceiling for an hour before I rolled over. Using the wall, I sat up and stared at my knees in blue scrubs with the cuffs rolled up. Lifting my arm, I saw a blue cotton top with pockets and bare forearms. Two Band-Aids in the elbow crease over a wad of folded up gauze.
There were slippers like flip-flops on my feet. The door opened with a pneumatic hiss and slid into the wall. Three men approached watching me warily and two held Tasers. One of them was the dude called Gaines. I stared dully at him, not feeling much of anything. My thought processes were circling in my head, not making any sense to me. I knew I was in danger, but couldn’t care.
“Danny?” Gaines questioned. I looked up and then back to my feet.
“How do you feel, Danny?”
“Okay,” I said listlessly. I wished they’d go away so I could lay down and stare at the wall. I could count the dimples in the padding.
“Danny, we’re going to take you for testing. All you have to do is walk with us, okay? Can you do that?”
“I guess.” He put his hand under my elbow when I stood up. Waited. He pulled me towards the door, which opened. Put cuffs on my wrists and locked them. “You okay, Danny? Not lightheaded or nauseous?”
I thought about it. Answered, “No.”
“Good. Just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. It’s not far; we’re just going down the hallway to the elevator and the labs.”
“Okay,” I said agreeably and shuffled along with the other two behind us.
The hallway was short, only two doors, and then we were at the elevator. Black with shiny chrome. He punched in the code. While I stood there drooling.
“Not so feisty now, is he, Gaines?” One of the men snickered.
“Shut up, Read,” Gaines snapped. “He’s just a kid.”
“A kid with some weird ability.”
“Just leave him alone,” Gaines said gruffly. The elevator doors opened and his hand on my back sent me in. I stood facing the back wall. He turned me around as the doors closed. My stomach lurched as the elevator moved. No indicator to tell me if we were going up or down, nor what floors. Not that I cared or was curious.
The door opened on a hallway lined on both sides with windows that looked out over a city sky cape, but I didn’t recognize it. The three of them herded me down towards a set of fire doors that opened with a key card into a lab with long gray counters, and machines. An exam chair with arm and leg restraints. Some of which I knew the names and uses of – like a gene sequencer, mass spectrometer and gas chromatograph. Some stations held overhead toxic gas vents, specimen cages for large primates, exam tables, B
P machines and even an open sided MRI machine. Only two people were in the lab, a man and a woman, both in white lab coats and laminated badges. They watched me closely as Gaines steered me towards the open area near the tables. One was an autopsy table, complete with a drain into a deep welled sink. A metric scale hung nearby. On the counter was an autoclave.
“Where do you want him?” Gaines asked and the man pointed to the exam table.
“Up here.”
“Danny, can you get up on the table?”
I stood there and thought about it, put my hands on the cold metal covered with paper and lifted my legs. My coordination was shot, I wound up half on and half off, so he grabbed my legs and threw me up.
“Lie down, flat,” the white coated lab geek ordered and I did. He strapped my arms and legs with nylon belts and another across my forehead. I lay quietly, my neck aching from the angle. My backbone poked against the hard surface, but the pain was distant and muted.
“What’s he on?”
“Thorazine. Administered this morning at 6 AM. 2 ml IV. We went light because of his age and weight. It lasts about twelve hours before it lets up.”
“Behaviors?”
“He can be…volatile. He’s tall for his age and strong. His Dad is 6’6”. He’s fourteen.”
“Fourteen?!” The woman came forward. She was pretty, even with her hair pulled back severely, a reddish chestnut color, and she had pale green eyes.
“Like Felice,” I slurred.
“What?” She questioned.
“Eyes like my girl...friend. Green. Pretty.”
“Your eyes are pretty, too. What’s your name?” She continued hooking things to my fingers, head, and neck as she slid her hands down my chest. I giggled as she tickled me.
“Danny. Danny D –“
Gaines interrupted me. “His name is Daniel D 1, for the purposes of this trial. That’s all the Director wants on the file. When you’re briefed later this evening, you’ll get the complete dossier. Right now, all you need to do is get a baseline to start with.”
“The EEGs will be skewed by the Thorazine,” she complained. “Also, the MMPD tests.”
“You can do without the MPD for now. Director Sustain wants a working premise in two days.”
“Two days!” The man bitched. “I can’t develop a theory in two days! A DNA test takes a week, at the very least!”
“Then, you’d better get busy and work 24/7,” Gaines threatened.
I had to pee and it seemed like too much effort to ask for the toilet so I just peed where I was. My back got warm and wet, it felt good. I closed my eyes and drifted. Didn’t care when they complained about the smell of my wet clothes.
“Jesus,” one of them said. “He pissed his pants.”
“I’m not gonna clean that up.”
“Danny, if you don’t tell us you need to use the restroom, I’ll catheterize you,” the lady threatened.
I opened one eye and shrugged. “Don’t care. Easier to just pee.”
The four of them got me up, stripped me, and washed me off with baby wipes before dressing me in a paper gown. Put me back on the table and started over.
“We’ll be done with the standard tests in four hours. You’ll be back for him? She asked.
Gaines replied, “I’ll be with him whenever he’s out of the cell. When you’re done, we’ll transport him to the mess hall, feed him, and back to his room. Sedate him to sleep. Recommence testing at 0615. After his shot.” He dismissed the two men. I lay there and did what they wanted, neither caring nor feeling anything. Time passed in a blur.
Chapter 14
Oliver Sustain was in his office when Mitchell Gaines called to report on the latest findings.
“DNA is a little weird, Sir,” he said. “It’s definitely markers from both his father and mother. We had profiles on both – one from his blood work for his Senate confirmation and the mother’s from crime scene files. No surprises there.
“His EEG is really off the wall, MRI shows an anomaly deep in the core, midpoint. We have all the results from Walter Reed. Showed a large thickened mass of tissue when he was admitted. Now, it’s the size of a pea and is in the area of the pineal gland, which you know has been associated with extrasensory perception. Both of the lab staff have designed trials to test the boy.”
“The father?”
“He believes the boy’s been kidnapped, the FBI is on the case. They’ve tracked him to the Verizon on East Gate. The FBI has the phones tapped and are waiting for ransom demands. The Senator has gone on TV to appeal to the kidnappers, citing his brain injuries. There is a million dollar reward. President Rickover has also made an appeal. The media is all over this.”
“We need to provide a body, then.”
“Yes, sir. Or turn him loose,” Gaines returned.
“Can you supply enough of his blood to prove he’s dead?”
“The lab geeks say yes. We’ll take 2 pints and replace it, keep it in a centrifuge so it doesn’t gel. Can’t put stabilizers in it or it shows up in the forensics tests.”
“Are two pints enough to prove a fatal scenario?” The Director questioned.
“Borderline. Anymore and it’s dangerous for the boy. 2 pints is a serious loss. Without medical aid, the victim would most likely die. We can’t wait days between the sampling; forensics would prove the samples came from different pulls.”
“Can you stretch it to three?”
“I can ask,” Gaines hesitated.
“Don’t risk his life, Mitchell. Not until we find out how he does it. Whatever ‘it’ is.”
“I believe he reads minds, Director. He eavesdropped on the conversation between my wife and me.”
“Keep me informed. How’s his health?”
“The docs had him tranked on Thorazine. He doesn’t care about anything. He’s a zombie. I’m not sure he can do what he does so doped up. Yet, when he is aware, he’s a little Spitfire. He tried to take me out twice now. Tough little bugger.”
“He’s an asset, Gaines. And a loose cannon. We can’t have him poking his nose into the White House and Langley. Find out how he does it, and fast.”
“Yes, sir.” The Director hung up first.
The boy was strapped into a chair like a dentist’s, hooked to an EEG. He looked asleep, his baldhead shining in the sterile light of a small, fully equipped OR. Two techs reading the print outs were circling high peaks with a red felt pen.
Images flashed in front of the boy’s eyes on the blank wall, voices droning through a set of earphones around his bare skull.
Gaines watched from the window as a male scientist explained the testing. “We’re asking him to name what he sees,” he said.
“His eyes are closed,” Gaines protested.
“Closed, taped shut and dilated. He can’t see if he wanted to. Yet, he’s 100% accurate with the images. Watch this.” He spoke into the microphone. “Phil, images on number two.”
The images in the room with a boy blanked out and began to show in the room with the pair. Gaines named them and heard the boy echo his own answers.
“How?”
“He can see them somehow. With his mind.”
“He reads minds?” Gaines was skeptical. In the background, the lab monkey screamed and shook the bars of his cage.
“No,” the doctor shook his head. “Watch this.” He spoke into the microphone and turned to the monkey cages, covering them as the tech in the room with the boy did the same to all the lab animals. As soon as the last one was covered, the boy’s voice fell silent. Plaintively, he said, “That’s all. Can’t see…no more.”
“He sees through their eyes, hears through the ears of the animal,” the scientist looked ecstatic. “He feels what they feel.” He poked the rhesus with a prod and the boy’s reactions were the same, his face grimacing in pain. “His pain responses are the same as the rhesus, their brain waves are patterned exactly the same.”
Gaines mused, “My Labrador retriever was in the bedroom when
I told my wife about the Senator. Christ, that’s the connection we were looking for – every one of these leaks had a pet involved. Dogs, cats, even a Goddamn parrot!
“Can you imagine the implications, doctor? Donate a trained falcon to the Sultan of OPEC and know exactly their policies before they make them? A trained dog to the President of Russia? 90% of foreign leaders have pets. We could spy on anyone without risking an agent’s life!”
“We don’t know how far his range is,” he warned. “Or how long he can meld. I suspect the use has short and long-term damage effects to his brain. Perhaps, it triggered the neurological storm he was in Walter Reed for. His original scans indicated a serious, perhaps fatal condition.”
“And now?” Gaines asked.
“Doctor Soong had decided to send the child home and just monitor him. Not having read his personal notes, I don’t know if it was because he considered the child hopeless, and to let him end peacefully at home or he believed the boy would grow out of it and recover.”
“What do you think?” Gaines entreated.
“I think if we can keep him alive and on our side under our control, he’d make the perfect stealth weapon. Terrorist, dirty politicians, crime bosses. Anywhere an animal can go, we can point and aim him.”
“How do we control him, doctor?”
Now, the scientist grinned. “Ever hear of mind control? We know how to use EEG waves to loop and feedback the mind, program it to do nearly anything in an adult. A fourteen-year-old will be child’s play.”
Gaines suppressed a shiver. “In short,” the scientist said. “We’ll kill his ego and implant a whole new personality. He’ll be a totally different person.”
“How long will that take?”
“No more than two years to become permanent. Once started, we can’t stop without killing him. You sure you want to do this thing?”
“It won’t destroy the…thing he does?” Gaines wondered.
“It shouldn’t. It’s not like we use electric shock or torture. It’s all done with electrical impulses and subliminal transference under an auditory and optical stimulation while he’s in a comatose state. The initial phase takes a week in a sensory deprivation chamber. He’ll be catheterized, fed IV and hydrated during the entire process. Do you have any particular guidelines for his new persona?”
“Like?”
“We can program different languages and skills, job knowledge, personality. You want him a tough bully or shy introvert? Sports inclined or effeminate? Animal lover for sure, woman hater or sexually precocious?”