Chapter 8

-September 25, 2012-

For sixteen years, Braig told nobody about his newfound ability, not Ansem, not Vexen, not even the number of partners (male and female) he had during this time. He merely refined the ability, the way he'd refined the code he'd worked on when he was inventing things in the nineties. Not that he did that anymore. Ansem had long since promoted him to company president, effectively making him his second-in-command. Fifteen years earlier, Braig might have rejected such an offer, but the new Ansem really didn't know how to take no for an answer.

Braig entered his office and opened his e-mail, where he found a troubling anonymous message that had also been sent to three others whose names he recognized from the board of directors: Linda Claymore, Alexis Terra, and Enzo Lessico. The message included an audio file of a phone call between Ansem and someone known only as "Six," complete with a transcript. Ansem asked Six something about the "In-Between," and also if the four families were ready to move in. Six answered each question with a short, sweet "Yes, Superior." But this wasn't the most disturbing thing about the message. It also included a JPEG photo of a smooth metal "preservation pod," which was opened up to reveal a Plexiglas inner pod containing a man suspended in bright green fluid by a number of pipes and tubes.

Braig recognized the man in the pod immediately. It was Ansem, only he was just as pale as he was before the so-called "gene therapy." Immediately, he went up to Ansem's office to confront him about it.

But Ansem merely blinked and said, "I'm afraid I have no idea what this is."

Braig gaped. "Ansem, I don't know what else to say about this. What are you doing? Is this some kind of cloning experiment? Growing transplantable organs in case yours break? Do you know how serious this is? This is highly unethical, and -"

Ansem cut him off with a loud yell. "YOU'RE WRONG!" His amber eyes momentarily darkened to black, but only for a split second.

Braig gaped at his old friend. "What...what are you? You're not Ansem. My friend would never do this. Not to me, not to anyone."

"Well, then, I guess I'm no longer your 'friend,'" jeered Ansem. "Good day, Mr. Bidos."

Braig turned to leave, but then turned back to yell at Ansem one last time. "If you're not willing to deal with this, then I'll have to find someone who will!" He went back down to his office, took his backup laptop, and teleported home.

Early the next morning, Braig teleported back to the office, opened his laptop, and found something truly horrifying on the local news feed. The headline read:

"NEMOCONTECH PRESIDENT ACCUSED OF CHILD MOLESTATION BY GIRLFRIEND"

Braig opened the article, thinking, What the hell? Did Ansem frame me or something? According to the article, his girlfriend claimed that just last night her two-year-old son had come to her saying Braig had forced him to touch him inappropriately. Braig knew nothing of the sort had happened, and yet somehow, somebody claimed to have uncovered video evidence against him.

He teleported down to the parking garage, got into his Lamborghini, gunned the engine, and took off down Highway 17 towards Ansem's house in Sand City (he spent Wednesdays working from home.) By 8:00am he arrived, grabbed the spare key hidden under the false cobblestone on the front walk, and opened the door just in time to see Tim, Axel, and Rocky leaving for school. Vexen appeared to him, waved the boys off, and proceeded to chastise him. "Braig, what do you mean by this, coming down here unannounced and dripping sweat all over the floor? I just cleaned it yesterday, for God's sakes!"

Braig matched Vexen's glare and rumbled, "I have to see your husband. He has soooo much explaining to do."

He barged straight into Ansem's office, turned the TV on to channel eight, and let the reporters talk for a few seconds about the still-breaking news about the search for Braig Bidos before launching into his attack. "Well? Is this your idea of getting me back?"

Ansem turned to Braig. "No. I'm not the one responsible for this. I'm sure you're innocent. This seems totally unlike you. But then, maybe you've changed, just like you said I have. You'll forgive me for not being very quick to jump to your defense."

Braig spluttered, "Jump to my defense?! What the hell do you want with me?"

Ansem said, "To do as I say, so you won't get arrested. Trust me on this. Drive me up to the office. I'll explain things on the way."

True to his word, Ansem did explain things. About the "In-Between," and the preservation pod, and also about Braig's teleportation. "I had the sherbet at the wedding laced with a chemical that activates certain genes in...sensitive individuals. That was the gene that got activated in you. The three others who received your e-mail, plus Vexen, all have active genes of their own."

"The three others -" Braig was shocked. "Linda, Alexis, Enzo...what?"

"Yes," said Ansem, as the Lamborghini turned into the parking garage. "But, one of you is a traitor. That e-mail was sent by an untraceable outsider whom I suspect of trying to put a stop to my project before it begins. They wanted one of you to blow the whistle. Luckily, nobody did. Yet. I have some doubts about Alexis and Enzo, but you and Linda I can trust implicitly." He got out of the car and turned to Braig, handing him a slip of paper with a Blancoville address written on it. "The In-Between is in an underground lab here. Teleport there, and wait for me and the others to arrive. We're all moving up there within the week. Stay underground. It would really throw the plans off if you were caught and sent to jail, no?"

Braig sighed. "Okay." He walked into the elevator, then teleported to the place Ansem had told him. It was, as he had said, a cavernous underground lab, well-lit with white walls, computers on desks, and the preservation pod in the very center of the room.

He leaned against the wall, overwhelmed by the events of the last 24 hours, especially what Ansem had told him about the lab. What have I done? he thought. God help me.

God help us all.