Young Offender, Part 54:
Albert jerked awake and felt towards the left side of the bed. That side of the bed was still warm, but empty. A slight distress hit, but he looked over with blurry eyes and saw that the balcony's French doors were open. He threw off the covers and pulled on his undershirt and boxers that had been discarded on the floor. He fumbled for cigarettes and lighter on the bedside table and joined Jet on the balcony. The beach was private, he had little fear of an exposed hand or leg.
Jet sat on the railing, dressed the same way and smoking. He gazed out at the dawn light cresting over the ocean waves. Albert leaned on the railing beside Jet, lit a cigarette, and waited. Jet kept silent; Albert was unnerved. He reached out to Jet's bare knee and laid his hand gingerly on it. Jet didn't flinch, he put his own hand on top of Albert's and smiled at him.
"Are you okay?" Albert asked, prepared for Jet to back out. If that happened, Albert would let things go at a one night stand.
"Never better," Jet said brightly, but there was still a hint of hesitation Albert picked up on. He went with his instincts to not press Jet. He remained quiet until Jet threw back his head and laughed.
"What?" He sounded more annoyed than he wanted.
"I'm the biggest fucking hypocrite on the planet," Jet explained.
"What? Why?"
"Because I remembered something I said to Ivan when he had his crush on Francoise." Jet finished puffing on his cigarette and ground it out in the clay ashtray on the railing. "He'll kill me if he ever finds out about... us... last night... ya know... that sort of thing. He'll throw me into an ocean this time and drowned me for sure."
"I certainly hope not, now that I have you in my bed," Albert teased, but then seriously asked, "What did you say to him anyway?"
"Well, it is something we have to think about. I told him in a group as small as ours, and in our situation, even if he was more normal and Frannie's age, he shouldn't be with her because it'd screw up the group. It was like the gangs. We had strict, unspoken rules what girls a guy could go around with. That was to protect us from a lot of fighting between each other. Well, I told him he should forget Frannie, but he took it hard. I don't know that he ever quite forgave me. If this comes up, something tells me he's going to blow a gasket and call me out."
"Ivan's situation with Francoise is very different than ours. Time, age, a lot of things are different. He'll understand, I think."
"Yeah, after he kicks my ass from here to the moon. And I deserve it... some. There's also Francoise to worry about. She's pretty sharp and she'll catch on some day. Like I told Ivan, this sort of thing will change a group. Really fast, and usually really bad." Jet lit another cigarette and turned to Albert. "I don't want things to change in our group, but I... you know... want to still..."
"Jet, it's okay to actually vocalize what you want instead of being so bashful with me. Especially, after last night." Albert met his gaze and said, "If you want to be with me, just say so. Otherwise, let this be a one night stand until you can be honest with yourself."
"I want to be with you," Jet said, breathy and somber.
"Good, I'm glad that's settled. And, yes, I understand about our group's dynamic, and I don't want things to change, either. The group needs to stay together. Not one of us, even Ivan, can stand alone against the Black Ghost and their full arsenal. We need to be careful how we handle Francoise and Ivan's feelings. Listen, Jet," He squeezed Jet's knee firmly, "our group isn't as fragile as it once was. That second time with the Black Ghost bound the four of us together forever, no matter what, for centuries to come. From time to time, we will need distance from one another, but we are the only four who can understand each other and have a deep empathy for one another. There won't be others who understand our pain or the bond that pain forged."
Jet slowly smiled and wrapped his arms around Albert's shoulders. Before Albert could kiss him, they heard Kozumi call. Albert parted from Jet, reluctantly, and said, "Listen, Ivan is our first concern. We get him better and then get our group together and comfortable again. After that, we'll think about us and how tell the others."
"Yeah, I know." Jet slid off the rail with a dark expression and walked into the bedroom to pack.
Albert sat at the piano, attempting to pick out a tune as the night's thunder storm raged. He took another sip of wine as Francoise gasped at the ferocity of the storm. He glanced over at her crocheting. It was growing into an impressive table cloth at this point. Beside her, Jet was attempting to read his Chilling Adventures in Sorcery comic book he'd picked up at the airport. Albert could tell his attention was more on the operation upstairs than the comic book. Albert cast his eyes upward, too.
"They're working on his heart right now. Incorporating a regulator," she informed them, able to hear everything through the thick stone floors.
"Hey, isn't that something you don't have? A heart regulator?" Jet asked.
"Yes. They never gave me one," she said absently crocheting. Then her face was as stormy as the outdoors. "I should be up there."
"You'd be in the way," Albert said as compassionately as he could. She nodded and continued to knot the creamy thread into an elegant design. He started to pick out a tune he hadn't played since he was twenty-seven.
"Handel's Passacaglia?" Francoise asked, a forth of the way through the song he was playing. She didn't look up from her crocheting.
"It's not a cheery tune, but I've missed it. It used to be one of my favorites to play on the violin with... someone else... on the cello. I doubt I'll ever manage the violin again," Albert said, avoiding Jet's eyes, yet knowing he understood the 'someone else' was Hilda. He had a feeling he and Jet would still have to negotiate around the topic of Hilda. Thanks to Gilmore's rescuing it from Gaia, he still wore her and his wedding bands on a chain around his neck and wasn't quite ready to take it off permanently. He was a step closer by opening his emotions up to Jet, though.
He threw away his cares and concerns about his mechanical arm's piano performance and his past, rigid studies. He played Handel's Passacaglia from the start to finish this time, giving a slightly jazz time interpretation that he would have never done in his life before the Black Ghost. He finished the last notes and turned towards Jet and Francoise.
"Now that was depressing and cool. I actually liked that one," Jet said, the comic book long since discarded.
Albert gave a hearty laugh. "Sorry. I can't think of a cheery tune right now."
"It fits my mood," Francoise replied somberly.
"Ivan will come out of this fine. Relax," Jet said, cocky as usual.
"I am." She paused and started crocheting again after cocking her ear towards the ceiling. "They are are starting to replant his brain. This is the last part, but it'll take a long time. Hours. We should go to bed."
"Good. Soon he'll be awake." Albert turned back towards the piano keys and and started to pluck out a melody again. "I'm not ready, but go turn in if you want."
Francoise put up her crochet and left them alone. Jet did something unexpected. He sat beside Albert and asked, "So was this hard to learn?"
"It took years to become excellent, and minutes to lose it all." Albert regretted his bitter tone so he forced a smile and slammed down the wood cover over the keys. "Let's get some sleep."
"Sure," Jet answered, looking as if he had just been castigated, but unsure what to do.
Albert laid his arm around Jet's shoulders and whispered, "Have patience with me. I have some pain, still, just as you have."
Jet nodded, pulled Albert up by his wrist, and they went back to the cellar with their miserable cots. Albert moved their cots close after glancing to make sure the door to the cellar was locked.
Albert watch Jet instantly fall asleep after falling on his cot, clinging onto Albert's metallic, right fist. Albert stroked aside some of Jet's bewitching, scarlet hair and took a deep breath. He had a feeling things with Jet wouldn't be smooth in the future, but he was ready to try.
He heard a thunder clap distantly. It brought Ivan back to his mind. He gave a silent prayer the doctors were able to piece his body back together, along with his mind.
"We haven't heard from you, Mrs Kitagawa. There was a report yesterday morning that disturbed me," Scar said. The woman with stunning looks stood from her place at the long conference table. Her son, the spitting image of her, remained seated, but held up his head high and proud.
"Laboratory Five was broken into. According to the video surveillance and Doctor Lucas, it was two of the Double Zero Cyborgs: 004 and 002. They destroyed several guardian robots and stole ten of the computer chips meant for the new set of Double Zero Cyborgs. It's a major set back."
"One we need to recover from quickly. What are your plans?" Scar asked from the head of the table.
"I've already ordered an increase in production with the other six laboratories. Also, I'd recommend looking into a better guardian robot design. To make up for the set back, I've already sold some Shimamura assets. We'll be using the funds towards making new computer chips."
"This set back doesn't please me, but it seems you're already starting to recover. Well done, Mrs. Kitagawa. Your fellow Merchants of Death could learn a lesson," Scar said, and she sat back down, appearing demure. Fyodr Gamo knew it was an act, though. Erika said that her brain, and that of her brother and son's brains were peculiar, a likely genetic malformation to Fyodr's educated guess. The empathy centers didn't function as they should. Erika could appreciate it; she didn't have to tune out static, as she put it.
Scar then turned to Doctor Gamo, who was seated beside him. "Alright, now we've heard from all the Merchants, it's time to hear from the Black Ghost researchers. As you know, I haven't assigned anyone as Lead Researcher since that treacherous Gilmore left with the first batch of rebels. That's changed. Dr Gamo is now in charge of the Black Ghost research department. So, I'll let him explain our timetable."
"Thank you, Lord Scar. As you know, we've decided to not recreate the original rebel cyborgs' models. We've decided go with fresher ideas. Ideas that technological advances will make possible within the next ten years. I present to you the second generation of the Double Zero Cyborgs. From now on, the rebels will be referred to as the first generation and will be disposed of in due time. Here are the designs for 005 through 008."
With that, Doctor Gamo turned off the lights with a remote and cycled through a slide show. Blueprints and general information were presented about each new cyborg. The first model, 005, was to have superhuman strength; 006 was to be a fire breather. The future 007's plans were tricky. He was to be a shape-shifting spy, but the technology was still lacking. The last, 008, was a submersible model, able to withstand incredible cold and pressure.
Pleased murmurs arose when the lights came on. Gamo smiled and offered to take questions from the assembled Merchants of Death. One of the few that didn't seem pleased jumped from his chair and demanded, "We want a clear timetable! I don't want to feel like I'm throwing away my money on another set of cyborgs that'll run off."
Gamo's smile turned to a scowl. "We predict summer of 1981, and there will be voluntary recruiting. That's only a mere seven years, if we can get more funding."
"Yes, and what about the original investment! They're still out there, harassing us at every turn. Last year they burnt down my house after stealing a stash of gold!"
"We plan on sending the Second Generation after the First Generation when they're finished. Be patient, sir. We have to deal with the fact that my son is one of them. He has grown very powerful. To claim them properly, we must make sure we send in a set of powerful cyborgs!"
"I thought your woman would have gotten him back by now! Isn't she training someone to deal with him?"
Gamo's eyes were fiery; he never tolerated disrespect towards Erika. He replied through clenched teeth, "My wife will be responsible for getting him back, all in due time! As far as Ann, she's developing her talents at a steady rate, so her abilities won't fail her if she's the one who must face Ivan. You're underestimating my son's power."
"Gentlemen, no need to argue. The timetable is acceptable. It gives us time to restructure our administrative branch and gain more influence in countries around the world. We all are working for the same goal. Let's do our parts and make Black Ghost world control a reality," Scar said, ending the potential for an argument.
To be continued.