Young Offender, Part 59:
"All my tests indicate he's fine," Dressler said with a self satisfied smirk. "It's been a month since we've finished the modifications to 001, but I'll need to check him annually. Overall, I think he's clean."
"Yes, he's biologically sound," Kozumi murmured back, while studying a clipboard.
"I still think, in the end, we should have done things my way," Kaminari said, crossing his arms with a dismal pout on his face.
"It was Ivan's choice, not ours," Gilmore insisted. "We'd be no better than the Black Ghost if we took away his choice."
"True," Kaminari conceded.
"Now that this is settled, I'm going back to Columbia University. Contact me if his oncology reports change," Dressler said. "If anything I've learned that humans are more complex than tomatoes. At least Ann Ember is doing well, Fyodr would have called me otherwise. Both she and Ivan live a long time, but always in young bodies." He sighed and waved his hand in the air, dismissing further discussion. "I better go check on what the Black Ghost are doing."
"But you could stay and not have the Black Ghost interfere in your research," Gilmore pleaded.
"Without their support I can't continue, but..." Dressler put on his tweed jacket, "... you've given me some things to think about. I promise I won't reveal anything to the Black Ghost. I'll help when I can."
"We're relying on that promise," Gilmore reminded him. Dressler nodded and left the loft laboratory. Gilmore turned to the other two scientists and clasped his hands together. "Who's up for breakfast."
Kaminari groaned and shook his head. "And venture into the Cold War? I think I'll skip it."
"Oh come on! Jet and Ivan haven't actually bickered in a whole two days," Gilmore pointed out.
"What about my harpsichord that Ivan hurled across the room to spite Albert? Or the burn marks all over the walls when Jet was trying to escape it? Arg!" Kaminari threw his hands in the air. "What started the fight anyway? For the past month Jet and Ivan have been going at it, hammer and tongs. It's like Ivan woke up in a fit of pique!"
"What's worse is that Francoise is confused over why Jet and Ivan are arguing. They won't let that poor dear know a thing so she's very worried. They don't even let us know, either! She's so distraught. And 004! Well, he just stays silent. He knows something, that sly dog! He told me that they'd work it out, and I think they will," Kozumi said.
"Well, I hope it's before my furniture is all smashed to smithereens!" Kaminari declared, a fist in the air just as a loud crash from the kitchen and a steady stream of English curse words interrupted the rest of his declaration. The three doctors sighed and shook their heads, defeated by the hostile atmosphere.
"Well, if you don't want to eat here, let's go downtown for coffee," Gilmore suggested.
"Now that's a great idea." Kozumi said, tugging a disgruntled Kaminari with him behind Gilmore as they snuck out via the fire escape.
"You're a whiny little brat!" Jet snarled across the table. "You did that deliberately!" He was picking up his bowl of oatmeal from his lap and trying to scoop up the steaming mess. Francoise quickly came over with a dish towel while shooting Ivan a disproving look.
Albert watched Ivan's anger rise with Francoise's silent chastisement. Albert knew Ivan was still jealous over Francoise even though Jet had no interest in her. Whenever she sided with Jet over Ivan, it always escalated into a nasty fight.
He imagined it was demoralizing, and emasculating, on so many levels for Ivan to realize he'd never reach physical adulthood. That's why Albert kept out of the fights between Ivan and Jet. That, and Jet still wanted to keep his relationship with Albert a secret from Francoise and the doctors. Jet was still struggling to accept that part of himself. If Albert inserted himself in the fights, his relationship with Jet would be brought out sooner than the New Yorker was comfortable with.
Albert noticed Ivan's anger cool towards malice. "And if I did do it on purpose? There is certainly nothing you can do."
Jet's jaw clenched tightly. Albert knew Jet was still a hothead, but the second time they were captured by the Black Ghost had taught Jet how to control his tongue somewhat. Albert noticed Jet's tongue trace along his scarred gums, a horrible reminder to think before talking. That was a sign Albert knew Ivan had pushed Jet over the limit.
"Listen, you little piece of chicken shit! I'm going to beat the crap out of you!"
"Jet!" Francoise warned. She turned to Ivan and asked, "Now you really didn't do that on purpose, did you?"
"Yes, I did."
"Why?" she asked.
"He knows," Ivan pronounced cryptically.
Albert had overheard Ivan and Jet bickering in hushed tones in the dawn light of the courtyard. Jet wanted to go back to New York, and Albert agreed to go if Ivan and Francoise came with them. Ivan refused and warned Jet not to suggest it to Francoise. When Jet started humming and mumbling about 'rocket's red glare' and 'star spangled banners' at the time Francoise came down to cook breakfast, it was just too much for Ivan. So Ivan made a preemptive strike and telekinetically shoved Jet's oatmeal off the table.
Francoise turned her frustration on Albert, which he'd grown to expect. "Albert, will you have a conversation with these two about acting like gown men?"
Albert fought down his annoyance with her. Over the past month she'd been pestering him to be more of a father figure to Jet and Ivan rather than have any type of friendship with them. With Jet, that would be impossible and drive him away from their new relationship as lovers. With Ivan it would be disastrous considering his history with Doctor Gamo. Not only that, but Ivan shouldered a great deal of responsibility getting them free of the Black Ghost in the first place. It would be insulting and ridiculous for Albert to adopt a fatherly role with Ivan at this time.
"Albert!" she insisted when he went back to reading his newspaper.
"They'll sort it out!" Albert snapped, eyes firmly planted on an article that caught his eye. It was about a man who won an election in Spain that Gilmore said was a Merchant of Death.
"No! Enough of this!" Francoise insisted, pushing his newspaper aside. "They're going to kill each other!"
"Jet is a grown man and can handle his own affairs now. Ivan, technically, too."
"But..."
"No. Men sort out things differently than women," Albert said, cutting off her protest. He did glance over at Jet; the New Yorker was staring at Ivan with open hostility. "But I'll recommend that Ivan and Jet go outside and sort out their differences now rather than later. And I mean... all... differences."
Jet bolted from his chair, eyes still blazing with anger, and said, "Come on, twerp. Let's take this outside and have a man-to-man talk."
Ivan rose and tossed aside a napkin. "If you insist."
"And don't toss him in the Mediterranean, Ivan. I'm not in the mood to fish him back out," Albert warned, focusing on the newspaper article again.
With that they left the kitchen and headed to the front door in silence. Francoise started cleaning up the kitchen, silent and hostile. When she paused her activities, Albert set aside his newspaper and gave her his attention.
"You and Jet and Ivan all seem so different, lately. Is there something I need to know?" Francoise sat at the table beside Albert.
Albert didn't feel comfortable with lying, but he also had to balance that with honoring Jet's wish for secrecy. "I've made a promise and I'm not a liberty to tell you. Just know that things are working themselves out."
She nodded, tight lipped. "I'll respect that, but are you okay? I guess I worry a bit too much."
He smiled slowly at her and patted her hand. "It'll take some time. By the way, Jet was wanting to move on, now that Ivan is stable. How would you feel about that?"
Francoise bit her bottom lip subtly and wouldn't meet Albert's eyes. She rose and continued the dishes. "Let me think about that, Albert."
"Sure."
"So what's your damage, now?" Jet snapped after they climbed a grassy hill near the villa. It was a picturesque view of Palermo. The Mediterranean Sea was a crystal blue in the distance. Ivan looked towards the sea rather than Jet. That annoyed the New Yorker more. "Stopping being such a candy ass and come out with your problem man-to-man. I want to move to New York. You can't stop me and Albert from going. And Frannie needs to stick with us and will come along. So get it together!"
"We can't move back to New York. That's gone. At least, not now. Later... give it four years... I think... not sure." He rubbed furiously at his irritated left eye that would spurt an amber colored glow and then die out.
"What do you mean?"
"There's something I haven't told you or the others."
"Out with it!" Jet snapped, loosing what remained of his temper.
"There will be more of us. In the future. My aunt, Katharine, predicted it and told Ann. She told me by telepathy after I woke up. I haven't heard from her since. I think I'm worried about Ann. I think I feel guilty leaving her with Erika. I still don't know how to decipher my emotions very well."
A cold wave of dread hit Jet and washed away his anger at Ivan. "I know you said they have plans to do it, but this is for real. When? We need to stop the Black Ghost from getting others. Tell me what your aunt saw."
"I don't know. Katharine probably couldn't tell Ann any solid details. Anyway, precognition doesn't work that way, with a predictable time line laid out. It's like a path that you glimpse a part of. No one really knows how it works. It's still the biggest mystery among psychics.
"I don't know why Katharine could never tell details about her visions. No precog can ever speak of the details they foresee for some reason. They always say the same phrase over and over; they destroy any reflective surface and mutilate their flesh. They always say one particular phrase over and over; it's the same every time. It's one of the first symptoms that the finally ability is about to come to fruition in a psychic. It's very frightening to see."
Jet grew concerned when Ivan's head dropped forward, it wasn't quick enough for Jet to miss Ivan's watering eyes. He felt awkward and pity at the same time. He took a deep breath and flopped down on the grass. Ivan sat beside Jet, still avoiding directly looking at him.
"Sorry you lost your aunt."
"She said my body would be necessary in the future. It would serve a purpose and keep us safe. All it did was get me sick and put me back where I started. Where was the purpose in all that? Why? What did she mean? I lost ten years on top of it all. When I came back... you three..." Ivan shook his head ruefully and pressed his lips so tight they blanched. Jet didn't miss the note of jealousy so tangible in Ivan's tone.
"I'm sorry we couldn't rescue her." Jet figured getting Ivan to talk about his mysterious aunt would be a good stress relief.
"She was murdered by my parents!"
Jet flinched at Ivan's bitterness. Ivan almost never spoke of his aunt and it was still unclear what had happened to her. Whatever it was, Jet figured must have been gruesome.
Jet took a deep breath and decided to avoid probing something that still shook Ivan up so badly. Besides, Albert sent him out here with Ivan for one specific task. "Out with it. Why exactly are you still sore with me?
"Because you still haven't told Francoise about your relationship with Albert. It'll hurt her feelings that you've lied to her."
"What's going on between me and Al doesn't concern you. Or Frannie, for that matter."
"It does when it creates tension in our group. Can't you see how worried she is? All you do is continue to lie."
"You mean like what you're doing about what your aunt predicted?" Jet shot back, satisfied to see Ivan grow shamefaced. "You've played games with us from day one. When something doesn't go your way you manipulate things. Don't think I'm not wise to you. Ten years without you around really made me keen about you, Mr Ivan Whiskey."
"You're right. I do manipulate things, but it's in everyone's best interest."
"Maybe I see it in Francoise's best interest to not know right now. It's complicated. It's not... well... not something people talk about. I will tell her, but when I'm ready, and I've finished sorting out things with Al. Not everything is solid between us. If I spring this on her and Al throws me over then that's a lot of mess. You see?"
"That makes sense. I agree with your thinking."
"Besides, I also think you're being a Nosy Nate into Al and me because you're jealous." Jet's mocking tone brought obvious fury. Jet rose a dismissive hand in the air. "It's obvious."
Ivan cooled down and nodded. "Yes, very much so. I still have feelings for Francoise."
"Things will work out in our group just fine. Always have. But you're going to have to tell Al about what your aunt told you."
"I know. Otherwise, I'm afraid we'll all go our separate ways and be vulnerable." Ivan's face then grew stony and determined. "I will do what ever it takes to defete the Black Ghost. That hasn't changed."
Albert took the news with equanimity. Francoise looked disheartened as she sat at the table with the other cyborgs. "Well, we knew they'd not stop with us. Are you absolutely sure?"
"My aunt accepted the final ability and had visions of the future. That meas she was always right," Ivan confirmed.
"So we've gotta make plans, hit 'em hard. Now!" Jet pounded the table with his fist for emphasis and was stunned to see Albert shake his head. He got irritated and demanded, "Why not?"
"Because, it's a stalemate between us and the Black Ghost. They're too powerful to go at directly, but not strong enough to waste their resources looking for us. We have to keep our ears open and be ready when the time comes we can make a death blow. According to what Ivan said his aunt saw, it'll be a long time from now. If we strike at this moment in time, they'll just rebuild and grow wiser to our tactics. We watch and we continue to steal from the Merchants as we need. What we need now is a spy. I don't want to count on Dressler. How about Ann Ember? Can you get in touch with her?"
Ivan frowned. "She's had nothing to do with me over the last month. She despises me for leaving her there. But I had to! Katharina didn't tell me why. She said it was Ann's destiny to train with my mother."
"People aren't victims of fate," Albert insisted and crossed his arms. "For now we wait and watch carefully. We can change this around and keep others from turning into what we are."
Ivan grew dour, but before he could agree, Francoise reached over and laid her hand on his. "Albert is right. We have some knowledge and we can prevent it from happening. Until that time comes, we should get stronger. We need to build up this safe house and gather resources, give Gilmore and the others a chance to convince other scientists to defect. We do have time on our side."
Ivan nodded and yanked his hand away. He left the room obviously discontented. Jet gave a chuckle and said, "Hey, I don't like sitting on my hands either."
"Let's finish getting everything done here and then we'll move," Albert said.
"Where to?" Francoise asked Albert.
"When Ivan cools down, I'll see if he can pick a target for us."
Van Bogart strode through the jungle with a purpose: find big game. Malaise had led him from his posh Dutch mansion to the middle of Africa. His import-export business was running on its own after crushing most of his strong, European competition.
His toe caught against something under fallen leaves. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and crouched down. Bogart swiped aside the leaves and noticed a dark fissure, but there was a glint that caught Bogart's eye. He reached down and picked up the rough, round object.
He held it in his palm amazed at the find. It was gold, but that wasn't the amazing part. It was a freshly minted coin far out in the middle of nowhere. A rustling behind the trees caused him to swirl around and bring his rifle to bear. He lowered it in bewilderment when he saw a small, blond girl-child looking at him.
He crouched down to her level as she shied behind a thick rubber tree. He set his rifle down and held out a gloved hand. "Hey there, sweetheart. What are you doing all the way out here? Are your parents missionaries?"
She continued to stare at him with wide, blue eyes. He beckoned her with his hand and she stepped away from the tree. He was baffled by her ancient Grecian style clothing.
He asked her in Greek, "What's your name?"
"Venus."
"So where do you live? There are no close-by towns," he continued in Greek.
The little girl pointed to the ground. A distant howl of a wild dog caused the girl to turn and run deep into the forest. Bogart quickly grabbed his gun and jogged after the girl. He saw her disappear into a cave. He paused at the entrance and was shocked to see Grecian art decorating the stone.
A slow, devious smile came to his lips as he stepped in the cave and called out, "Venus, where did you go?"
To be continue.