Blue Cove, Delaware
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
When the Centre heard that there was a potential in the area, in fact, nearby, Mr. Parker figured that patience was the best virtue.
"We have already located at least ten families who have a child with the, what shall we call it, Pretender gene?"
"That's correct," said the white haired man besides him.
"Bobby, you worked with my father up unto his death. What do you propose to do?"
Bobby leaned back in his chair. "Nigel would have a good idea."
"But Nigel like my father is also dead. I want to have your incentive."
"We wait, luring them into a sense of security. If your father had done that, we would have had all of them. Those two last couples gave us a problem and their children disappeared."
Parker took a folder and flipped through it. "According to the records, they were taking care of the neighbor's kids. Nigel and my father thought they were the parents of, you realize, the children with that gene. I did some or rather had someone do further research. There is no sign of them, however, in a couple of years or so, their children's children will be at the correct age of retrieval." He put the papers away. "That's what I mean by patience. That's why I chose you to do the research, both of us think alike."
Bobby smiled. He, of course, had not thought of this idea, but he was good at reading personalities. Mr. Parker was a businessman who did not want any undue attention on himself and he did not want to make waves. Such a man waited until he struck.
"Bobby," said Parker after getting no comment, "We also know that according to genetics, the gene would not have shown in the first generation, but in the second. You might say the first generation is a carrier. They do not have the Pretender gene, but their children have. You made an estimate of the appropriate time for retrieval?"
"Around 1963. By then most of the second generation would be around four years of age. You see the significance sir. They are still attached to their parents, and not quite ready for independence. Once they reach five years old, the children will be going to kindergarten. It's best to take them then, that is, those who we cannot buy from their parents."
"Good, then get everything in readiness."
"Right, Mr. Parker."
So they planned, fixing up the places where to store the Pretenders, at least ten cells, and preparing the hoods, the handcuffs, chains to secure them. They also got the films and cameras ready to film the experiments and found several other families of the staff who would loan their children to the Centre. By the spring of next year they were almost ready.
"Backups," said Parker, "and insurance." He knew what he was doing. Some of his plans seemed rather risky as was the one where he made sure the baby food and formula in the local stores and anywhere the New Species parents would be did not contain the drug. He even made sure that the fruit and vegetables were also uncontaminated, but he made sure the adults remained under control.
"Tea, coffee, wine, and beer, they all drink that. Food that is designed for the adult body will have the proper dosage for maintenance," said one of the Centre scientists.
"Brilliant and I see that you have a man in the Maxwell House and other food companies. It will not effect us," said Parker as he watched the man take a syringe and insert a colorless liquid into the batch.
"It will remain odorless and will be absolved by the crystals. I have also tried it in alcoholic beverages but this is the first time, we inserted it in coffee and tea leaves. We are now trying it with tobacco, but so far have been without success. The heat. I hope some of them use chewing tobacco."
Mr. Parker nodded. "The Centre hopes that in a couple of years time, the parents will see the action of their children and actually ask for help." He turned to Bobby. "You have our people working as child psychologists and doctors?"
"Yes. As well as teachers in the local schools in case some are missed in the sweep."
"Good, then not one of them will be safe from the Centre."
It did not take long for the parents to ask for help and the Centre spies were right there. Mr. Parker read the report and looked at the film of one family with a small boy called Jarod. It showed a tall man and a red haired woman with a boy who was always fighting.
"Now Major, I am sure these will calm your son," said the nurse as she gave Major Charles the medicine. She then turned to the boy. "Do you want a sucker little boy?"
"Give me!"
Mr. Parker could see that the boy was unusually strong, and yet the nurse showed the proper restraint as she handed the boy the sucker. He waited. In a few minutes the boy was calm. He then turned to Bobby. "Did you estimate the time it took?"
"From the moment the liquid went on his tongue, it took three minutes for the drug to affect his nervous system and five minutes to enter his brain. The total time of absorption in the body takes approximately ten minutes. After that, all is needed is a maintenance dosage of one millimeter per one thousand that can easily be found in their food supplies."
Mr. Parker left the laboratory and went down to another level. He had hired a man skilled in special effects, a man suspected of stealing several items from a movie lot. He showed him the photographs of the second generation and their children. "I want you to find someone on the staff with children of the appropriate age. I want you to take one picture of the parents and as for the children, take a photograph of them and substitute."
"Substitute sir?"
"Yes. In case someone steals the films or DSAs from the Centre."
"Who would do that?"
"Look it's nineteen-sixty two. We've already grabbed two children." He showed him a picture of a boy and a girl, both quite thin. "Find two children of the appropriate age. Superimpose their picture on the film over those of these children. So the parents will assume that these are their children."
"I can do it, sir."
So as the year ran on, it did until every Pretender's child face on the DSA was changed to a complete stranger. The Centre even kept mirrors away from the kids. They became nameless, given no life outside the Centre, not even knowing how to play, how to socialize, how to obey the Centre, how to do simulations, unknown, and forgotten except by their grieving parents if they were still alive.
And then in 1963, Mr. Parker received a message from Mr. Phillips. It read:
Some time ago, I visited a family, father an Air force Major called
Major Charles and his wife Margaret. They have a little boy Jarod and
they almost had a tragedy. The boy fell during a hunting trip. No,
it was in a cabin but he had quite a scar on his back. Now I know I
should not have done it, but I gave the Neogenesis drug to the child
just before they went on the trip. I planned to name it NuGenesis,
but the lawyers threatened us with trademark violation if we do and I
want to keep on their good side. It appears that his mother came to
us, saying that her little boy was uncontrollable and fighting with
the neighborhood kids. Naturally, I sent the nurse out with some
treats, all properly doctored, of course. The boy quieted down and I
notified you of his location.
Now I'm having second thoughts. Some of the equipment set up for
simulation can only be used by those who have not been controlled, but
if controlling them means that they can be injured almost of much as
we, I must consider my position. The hospital said it was a miracle
the boy was alive. The receptionist did not believe the father,
figuring a fall from that high up was sure to kill or paralyze him. I
doctored the report, saying the child fell from a lesser height, and
that quieted any requests.
But I believe you should retrieve the boy and also renovate the
material in the sim lab so that no injuries occur necessarily to our
property.
Yours sincerely,
Dr. Andrew Julian Phillip.
Ps. The address of the family is in the enclosed envelope.
Mr. Parker tore open the other envelope and smiled but not for long. He got on the intercom. "Tommy, Brandon, Ernest. I have a job for you. We have a retrieval to make."
He then telephoned the doctor. "Hello Dr. Phillips, the Centre. I have your message. I want you to make sure the parents are unable to protect the boy. Perhaps a visit with the family to see if they are doing okay— a cup of coffee with your special kind of cream?"
.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
When the Centre heard that there was a potential in the area, in fact, nearby, Mr. Parker figured that patience was the best virtue.
"We have already located at least ten families who have a child with the, what shall we call it, Pretender gene?"
"That's correct," said the white haired man besides him.
"Bobby, you worked with my father up unto his death. What do you propose to do?"
Bobby leaned back in his chair. "Nigel would have a good idea."
"But Nigel like my father is also dead. I want to have your incentive."
"We wait, luring them into a sense of security. If your father had done that, we would have had all of them. Those two last couples gave us a problem and their children disappeared."
Parker took a folder and flipped through it. "According to the records, they were taking care of the neighbor's kids. Nigel and my father thought they were the parents of, you realize, the children with that gene. I did some or rather had someone do further research. There is no sign of them, however, in a couple of years or so, their children's children will be at the correct age of retrieval." He put the papers away. "That's what I mean by patience. That's why I chose you to do the research, both of us think alike."
Bobby smiled. He, of course, had not thought of this idea, but he was good at reading personalities. Mr. Parker was a businessman who did not want any undue attention on himself and he did not want to make waves. Such a man waited until he struck.
"Bobby," said Parker after getting no comment, "We also know that according to genetics, the gene would not have shown in the first generation, but in the second. You might say the first generation is a carrier. They do not have the Pretender gene, but their children have. You made an estimate of the appropriate time for retrieval?"
"Around 1963. By then most of the second generation would be around four years of age. You see the significance sir. They are still attached to their parents, and not quite ready for independence. Once they reach five years old, the children will be going to kindergarten. It's best to take them then, that is, those who we cannot buy from their parents."
"Good, then get everything in readiness."
"Right, Mr. Parker."
So they planned, fixing up the places where to store the Pretenders, at least ten cells, and preparing the hoods, the handcuffs, chains to secure them. They also got the films and cameras ready to film the experiments and found several other families of the staff who would loan their children to the Centre. By the spring of next year they were almost ready.
"Backups," said Parker, "and insurance." He knew what he was doing. Some of his plans seemed rather risky as was the one where he made sure the baby food and formula in the local stores and anywhere the New Species parents would be did not contain the drug. He even made sure that the fruit and vegetables were also uncontaminated, but he made sure the adults remained under control.
"Tea, coffee, wine, and beer, they all drink that. Food that is designed for the adult body will have the proper dosage for maintenance," said one of the Centre scientists.
"Brilliant and I see that you have a man in the Maxwell House and other food companies. It will not effect us," said Parker as he watched the man take a syringe and insert a colorless liquid into the batch.
"It will remain odorless and will be absolved by the crystals. I have also tried it in alcoholic beverages but this is the first time, we inserted it in coffee and tea leaves. We are now trying it with tobacco, but so far have been without success. The heat. I hope some of them use chewing tobacco."
Mr. Parker nodded. "The Centre hopes that in a couple of years time, the parents will see the action of their children and actually ask for help." He turned to Bobby. "You have our people working as child psychologists and doctors?"
"Yes. As well as teachers in the local schools in case some are missed in the sweep."
"Good, then not one of them will be safe from the Centre."
It did not take long for the parents to ask for help and the Centre spies were right there. Mr. Parker read the report and looked at the film of one family with a small boy called Jarod. It showed a tall man and a red haired woman with a boy who was always fighting.
"Now Major, I am sure these will calm your son," said the nurse as she gave Major Charles the medicine. She then turned to the boy. "Do you want a sucker little boy?"
"Give me!"
Mr. Parker could see that the boy was unusually strong, and yet the nurse showed the proper restraint as she handed the boy the sucker. He waited. In a few minutes the boy was calm. He then turned to Bobby. "Did you estimate the time it took?"
"From the moment the liquid went on his tongue, it took three minutes for the drug to affect his nervous system and five minutes to enter his brain. The total time of absorption in the body takes approximately ten minutes. After that, all is needed is a maintenance dosage of one millimeter per one thousand that can easily be found in their food supplies."
Mr. Parker left the laboratory and went down to another level. He had hired a man skilled in special effects, a man suspected of stealing several items from a movie lot. He showed him the photographs of the second generation and their children. "I want you to find someone on the staff with children of the appropriate age. I want you to take one picture of the parents and as for the children, take a photograph of them and substitute."
"Substitute sir?"
"Yes. In case someone steals the films or DSAs from the Centre."
"Who would do that?"
"Look it's nineteen-sixty two. We've already grabbed two children." He showed him a picture of a boy and a girl, both quite thin. "Find two children of the appropriate age. Superimpose their picture on the film over those of these children. So the parents will assume that these are their children."
"I can do it, sir."
So as the year ran on, it did until every Pretender's child face on the DSA was changed to a complete stranger. The Centre even kept mirrors away from the kids. They became nameless, given no life outside the Centre, not even knowing how to play, how to socialize, how to obey the Centre, how to do simulations, unknown, and forgotten except by their grieving parents if they were still alive.
And then in 1963, Mr. Parker received a message from Mr. Phillips. It read:
Some time ago, I visited a family, father an Air force Major called
Major Charles and his wife Margaret. They have a little boy Jarod and
they almost had a tragedy. The boy fell during a hunting trip. No,
it was in a cabin but he had quite a scar on his back. Now I know I
should not have done it, but I gave the Neogenesis drug to the child
just before they went on the trip. I planned to name it NuGenesis,
but the lawyers threatened us with trademark violation if we do and I
want to keep on their good side. It appears that his mother came to
us, saying that her little boy was uncontrollable and fighting with
the neighborhood kids. Naturally, I sent the nurse out with some
treats, all properly doctored, of course. The boy quieted down and I
notified you of his location.
Now I'm having second thoughts. Some of the equipment set up for
simulation can only be used by those who have not been controlled, but
if controlling them means that they can be injured almost of much as
we, I must consider my position. The hospital said it was a miracle
the boy was alive. The receptionist did not believe the father,
figuring a fall from that high up was sure to kill or paralyze him. I
doctored the report, saying the child fell from a lesser height, and
that quieted any requests.
But I believe you should retrieve the boy and also renovate the
material in the sim lab so that no injuries occur necessarily to our
property.
Yours sincerely,
Dr. Andrew Julian Phillip.
Ps. The address of the family is in the enclosed envelope.
Mr. Parker tore open the other envelope and smiled but not for long. He got on the intercom. "Tommy, Brandon, Ernest. I have a job for you. We have a retrieval to make."
He then telephoned the doctor. "Hello Dr. Phillips, the Centre. I have your message. I want you to make sure the parents are unable to protect the boy. Perhaps a visit with the family to see if they are doing okay— a cup of coffee with your special kind of cream?"
.