Biomancer - Cover

Biomancer

Copyright© 2019 by Shaddoth

Chapter 4:

Sitting at the dining table, Jessica looked up from typing a report on her laptop. “Where did you and Nathan go for six hours?”

“Shopping.”

“Why bother, he will just Rampage sooner or later. They all do, especially at his power level.”

“Like the one in Miami?”

“Santos was a bomb waiting to happen.” Agent Dubois replied defensively.

“And what were the odds of him rampaging if his handler didn’t drug his girlfriend and give Sophia Lamont to his childhood enemy?”

“Careful of what you say. The army won’t save you from a libel suit.”

“Don’t you know? The report has already made it to the Senate. I bet General Hatemonger is fuming up a storm at the leak.”

“Fiction. Even if it were true. It is an isolated incident.”

“Like the Lincoln ‘isolated incident’ last month? The one that didn’t make the papers?” Seeing her counterpart freeze for a millisecond was all the confirmation Veronica needed. “Your last post was in Lincoln wasn’t it, Agent Dubois. But you were a not there, were you?”

“My activities are under Agency direction and not subject to outsiders’ review.” Agent Dubois retorted frostily. That needed to be reported if their counterparts were aware of her activities.

Getting what she wanted out of the Agency assassin, “Did you get all your little spy toys in place? You might miss a sixteen year old watching porn or jerking off in the bathroom.”

“Fuck off. He’s a Class V risk. You would be terrified if you knew what he could do.”

“And here you sit, unterrified. Such a fierce resolve in the presence of a sixteen year old kid who only wants to bury his father and be left in peace. Oh, right he is scary. I had forgotten, there are people that are keeping that father from him. If you know any like that. They might consider returning the body for a decent burial and maybe some fence mending.”

“One more thing. I am officially informing you that bugging or spying in any form of, or on Army property will result in charges against you and the Powers Regulatory Agency. I believe that your ‘Agency’ has paid over ninety million dollars so in the last year and the judge who issued the latest decision warned that the next one would be higher than the previous two combined. I bet that it won’t do your career any good if you cost your beloved agency upwards of a hundred million dollars for a peek at my email.”

Seeing no reply forthcoming, Lieutenant Lake smiled to herself.

Finished taunting her imposed upon roommate for the moment, Veronica ascended the stairs along with the plastic grocery bag full of Nathan’s borrowed tools to remove the tack strips and the all the nails from the floor in her bedroom and in the third bedroom intended to be converted into a den.

...

Click. “Colonel? Lieutenant Lake ... I have confirmation on the Lincoln agent for the incident of the twenty third of April was current Agent Jessica Dubois ... Yes, sir. I asked as you directed. She reacted as expected ... He’s a good normal kid, struggling to make ends meet in a house too big for him in a terrible situation. Our first meeting went well ... They will, probably pretty soon ... Agent Dubois doesn’t seem to like Nathan or me ... Just a little, sir ... Understood, sir ... Yes, sir ... Respectfully, fuck off, sir ... Yes, sir ... I will, sir.” Click.

Humming a tune, first Lieutenant Veronica Lake replaced her cell phone in its belt holder and began levering up the tack strips that were made of oak shims. Grimacing, she wondered if the wood strips had been in place long enough to petrify...


“Stretching is the first thing and the last thing we do. Always.” Ronnie wore her tight, black running shorts and an Army T-shirt completely distracting me from what she wanted to teach. Getting smacked up the back of the head helped my focus. Not that I admitted it.

“Normally fifteen minutes for stretching is good enough. We’re not in a hurry so if it takes longer, it takes longer.” On my front lawn, I followed instructions as best as I could. Not that I had anywhere near the flexibility that she did.

“Not too much, we want to warm up our muscles, not push them at this point ... Your calves are tight. That needs to be addressed later ... Are you sore anywhere?”

“No. I think I’m okay.” She knew just how far to stretch me. I kept thinking how amazing Ronnie was.

“I will start off at a slow jog for fifteen minutes, then walk for ten. Let’s see how you feel after that.”

Jogging with a belt pack behind me was odd, but I got used to it, eventually. Other than my keys, there was only a bottle water, an energy bar and a small towel in there anyway. I kept pace with her, she was true to her word at keeping the jog slow. Going up and down the streets of the subdivision with me on the curb side and her on the outside, at the insistence of Ronnie in her bodyguard mode, we circled most of the subdivision neighboring the small forest behind my house.

Taking a small sip of water and a single bite of the energy bar at the twenty-five minute mark, “How are you holding up?” Ronnie asked.

“I’m okay.” I was. I was surprised even with the revelation from the last bike ride to and from school.

“Do you think you can do another twenty-five minutes?”

“Yeah.” Somehow, I knew I could run longer.

“Same pace.” The second twenty-five minutes were harder and I started feeling spikes of pain in my shins near the end. Minute ones that my body instantly healed as they formed.

Noticing the change in my stride, “A little pain?”

“Yeah. For a second or two.”

“Good. We don’t want a lot. A little means you are working those muscles that need to get off their duffs and join the living. When you get home, rub some of that cream all over your legs, wait ten minutes then take a lukewarm shower. A long one. We will stretch before you go in and I want you to do it after your shower too.”

“I can do that.” I didn’t tell her that the cream wasn’t necessary anymore. Although, I did want to see what effect it would have on me.

“You did well today. Tomorrow and the next week or two will be the same.”

“Okay.” After stretching, I laid on the grass for a few minutes even after watching Ronnie bound to the house in those skin tight shorts ... of course Ronnie stopping just before the porch and bending at the waist to tie her shoes didn’t help my discomfort at the erection that had sprung up a while ago.

The knowing smirk she gave me reminded me that the tease was completely intentional. Not that it helped. I tried hard, bad word, to not think about the lack of panty lines all morning.

The cream that Ronnie bought from the sports store emitted a mild heat that seemed to sink into my muscles. Anything to take my mind off that ass. I stood in the shower and tried to reproduce the effects of the cream without luck. I did end up failing to forget what I wanted to take my mind off of and therefore spending an extra ten minutes in the shower and a few more cleaning up after myself.

The rest of the day, I spent on and off reading the Social Studies guide with my blue highlighter getting plenty of use. I also signed up online for the next GED test held in our small college campus on June 19th. I missed this month’s one. Not that I was ready for it.

A tentative knock on my front door brought me out of my absorption on the computer.

Cheryl was standing on my porch with a purple and orange duffle bag filled with what was probably the rest of my books and stuff from my locker.

“Hi.”

“Hi. I have the rest of your books and notes.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

I opened the screen door and she handed me her duffle. “I’ll return it later.”

“Umm...” Something was up, my neighbor looked very uncomfortable about something.

“We had an assembly today. Someone from the Agency came and talked about Supers. He called them dangerous criminals.”

Great...” I knew what was coming next.

“He didn’t mention you by name, but everyone knows you dropped out early. It’s not hard to figure out. They did the 800 number spiel about calling for any reason if they see one use Super Powers. Everyone wanted to know why you weren’t arrested and taken to a Camp.” Obviously, she was part of everyone who wanted to know why I wasn’t.

“Peachy. Thanks for the warning.” And today was going so well.

“I wanted you to know. And thanks for healing me. I gotta go. Mom’s waiting,” she said hurrying away. Maybe she was, I somehow doubted it. That Cheryl was uncomfortable around me was obvious even to someone as oblivious as I was about girls.

Two hours after dinner another knock on my door, this one firmer.

“Hi, Ronnie.”

Opening the door, she entered carrying a white box. “What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”

“What else? The Feds came to my school and labeled me a dangerous criminal.”

“That won’t be the only time that the ‘Hate Mongers’ will stir up the city against you. Be better than they are and ignore it.”

“Easy for you to say. Cheryl basically ran away from me as soon as she could.”

“Your neighbor? What was she here for?”

“I asked her to bring my books from my locker. She brought some when I was kicked out and the rest today.”

“This her purple bag?”

“Yeah.”

“Never mind that. I have your new phone. Let me show you how it works.”

Twenty minutes into personalizing it and downloading apps, with her help, a bellow sounded out from the front of my house.

Standing in my driveway was a large blonde masked man in a shiny blue motorcycle racing suit specifically tailored for him, with a large ‘A’ surrounded by thirteen stars in a three quarter circle centered on his left breast. All American Man. His red and white striped cape was twisted behind him, probably from flying in circles trying to find my house.

Employed by the ‘Citizens for a Clean Gene’, he was well known for hunting down and beating the shit out of anyone outside of the Agency’s control to force them into the Camps. It was open knowledge that CCG were bought and paid for by the Agency. ‘Funded’ was the political term. The irony of him being a Super goon suppressing Supers must have been lost to the flying moron.

“Get out here you low life piece of scum and take your beating or surrender and come peaceably.”

“Can I kill him?” I asked half-seriously.

“No. Nathan. Stay on the porch and don’t say a word. Understand?”

With that tone, I wasn’t going to argue. No way, no how.

“Okay,” I eeked out

“Eh? You don’t look like the picture?” He only focused on Ronnie, like any sane man would. The poorly regarded vigilante completely ignored my presence on the porch as she strode towards the imbecile. The papers reported that he was gifted with the ability to fly and had absurd strength and recovery. The hovering idiot positively glowed with Life energy.

“Lieutenant Lake, US Army Intelligence. Are you participating in Vigilante action, Chester Cloony?”

“I am All American Man. I do not know this Cloony person. Ah! I see the Dangerous Criminal. Surrender or die, Mate ... Nate, whatever your name is.”

Great, a flying, super strong idiot. I had to rely on Ronnie so not to make a mess of the place. I locked on him and slowly began to siphon his energy. Just a little, to familiarize myself with it.

“Wow you are sure brave Mr. Man.” Changing gears, Ronnie suddenly sounded ditzy.

I was worried. For him.

“Of course. I am All American Man. Apprehending and punishing evil is my task in life.”

“That’s soo cool,” Ronnie gushed. “Facing off a Class V with Death Touch. Please don’t get hurt.” I could hear the batted eyes shining on his cough ‘Magnificence’ from here.

“Humph, No one can...” lowering his voice, “ ... Death touch?” He actually floated back from Ronnie creating more space between the two of them.

“How brave you are! To risk life and limb to catch that ‘person’ on the porch with control over death. I’m rooting for you.”

“You’re not making up the Class V, Death Touch?” He wasn’t boasting anymore and the distance between the caped moron and Ronnie widened even further.

“Bio control. Class V, Life and Death. Range one mile. What do you say now, Mr. Vigilante?” Switching back to the real Lt. Veronica Lake, she attacked him where it counted. Beating up wimps was one thing. Dying against someone that can kill you with a look was something else.

He stared at her, then me. I waved. He floated another step back. Unconsciously, I bet.

“One mile range, Mr. Cloony. Please don’t move, it might scare Nathan into lashing out. Who knows what will happen? People, trees, birds, Blue suited vigilantes bought and paid for by the Agency, might end up six feet under or even mummified.”

He froze under Ronnie’s threat. Hell, I froze under it. I spread my awareness, doing the radar thing. Four men at the end of the street were watching, so too were Mrs. Moore and the Fed. The Cutlers were out of the house, and their kids were in the basement playing a game on the TV. Mrs. Huston was watching TV along with her cats. No one else was in hearing range.

“Mr. Cloony, if you give me a name of who hired you, I will let you go. THIS time.” Standing dominantly on my lawn in her white shorts and black T, no one in visual range doubted that she had the ability or the will to see to his demise. I didn’t even think she would need me to do anything besides clean up the mess after.

“I’m waiting...

“ ... I’ll give you to the count of...”

“Smithenson. Lucy Smithenson,” he gasped in fear.

“Nate, be a dear and go inside, please.” Not releasing the idiot from her gaze, Ronnie ordered me inside. I did watch from the window though. This was too good to pass up.

I couldn’t hear what she said to him though. But it was enough to make him fly off to the north without looking back. Once he was out of sight, Ronnie, the magnificent one, turned and smirked at her house for a few heartbeats, before returning inside of mine.

“How was I?” Giving me a sweet teasing smile, she knew damn well how great she had just been.

“Awesome.”

“Do you still think you don’t need a bodyguard?”

“You’re the best.”

Ronnie laughed joyously, before frowning. “You have someone very worried. They sent him out to die and he is that religious wacko group’s best asset.”

“I thought it odd he didn’t know what my power was if he came out all the way here. Isn’t he based in Kansas or St. Louis?” I thought I read that somewhere.

“He was probably told you were a rogue Elementalist.”

“You think it was the Agency?”

“Or someone affiliated. The Agency has fingers in a lot of groups. Nathan, the Agency wouldn’t be as strong as they are, and those laws wouldn’t have been passed as fast as they were two and a half years ago, if they didn’t have nationwide support.”

“69% were in favor of suppressing Supers in November’s elections. I know,” I recited that number from the last NY Times poll.

“There will be more like him, smarter and better informed.”

“I know. There are four men at the end of the street. They are still there, but inside a vehicle, I think. They were there watching before he arrived.”

“And waiting for a mess to happen. They too, weren’t informed about you. No one with a brain will approach within a mile of you if they know of your Powerset and there is any chance of a confrontation.”

“What about you? You have a brain.”

“I’ll have to trust you. Now, where were we?”

It felt good that she trusted me. I hoped I could ... I don’t know, not let Ronnie down. “Hot spots, I think.” How she was so calm, I had no clue. The Fed was not calm at all. Why, no clue. I couldn’t differentiate in states of the why.

“Nathan, one more thing. He is a Class IV, strong as hell and resilient. If you had any other ability, you two would have fought and pretty much destroyed the entire neighborhood.”

“Yeah.” That was the last said of the interloper that night. On other nights, the topic would rear its ugly head.

Listening to remastered techno dance music, loudly on Wednesday morning, Ronnie and I dismantled the Master bedroom. Excepting the carpeting, anything not structurally attached to the room was removed, including the door to the bathroom and the shower doors caked along the edges with soap scum.

Honestly, it was done in two and a half hours after our morning run. We ate a lunch of Pizza delivery. First time in two months for me. Mr. Tang had ordered it for us during a visit one Saturday afternoon in early April.

I savored every bite much to Ronnie’s delight. I didn’t even care that she teased me about gorging myself. I did point out that she ate a large pizza herself. It wasn’t just me being a pig.

“Beauty food. This girl needs all she can get.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her justification.

“Hey, looking this good isn’t easy you know.”

“The mask left clown lines,” I teased.

“Watch it buster.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied contritely.

“I need to shower and change. You too. Have you picked out a color for the walls?”

“The seafoam. I don’t know why you only let me choose between the four.”

“You need color in your life. What about the other rooms?”

“The light blue. But won’t we have to do all the upstairs?” I stupidly asked.

Wiping her mouth from a sloppy bite of pizza with extra sauce, “And your stairs.”

I groaned.

The rest of the week we moved all the furniture down to the living room and stacked it up. Beds unscrewed, dressers moved and drawers put back in once down the stairs. Clothes bagged and separated. Those that no longer fit or were too damaged to wear, were going to go to the Sally’s. Dad’s too. Mom’s wedding dress and Dad’s tux were carefully moved to the basement under the stairs for now, while the rest was bagged and tagged.

Ronnie found a hidden cache with a small bundles of hundreds and some of mom’s old jewelry in an old shoe rack at the back corner of mom’s closet. That was put in the small firesafe in one of the basement closets, along with the insurance papers and mortgage to the house.

Saturday after our run, shower, and breakfast, Ronnie drove us to Hardware Depot. Sanding, patching, edging, paint, and primer supplies were purchased by the cartful on Uncle Sam’s dime. I was getting used to her paying. Numb to the terror of repayment after a week of it. I knew the bill would come due one day. But I couldn’t say no to her.

On our return, in the driveway sat Mr. Tang’s green Tahoe.

“Someone you know?”

“Mr. Tang. My guardian.” The front door was open and he was waiting inside for me to return.

He was sitting in my chair in the playroom since the dining room and living room were filled with upstairs crap.

“Hi, Nate ... I see you have a friend.” Ronnie was right behind me.

“Mr. Tang. This is Lieutenant Veronica Lake, my bodyguard and friend. Ronnie this is my friend, guardian, and lawyer, Lu Tang.”

“Any relation to...?”

“Great-grandmother.” I had no idea what they were talking about.

They shook hands, “How does the bodyguard thing, work?”

“I shoo them off while Nate watches,” she replied semi-seriously.

“And does that work?”

Ronnie gestured at me. “Oh yeah. You wouldn’t believe what she did,” I spoke on cue.

“You will have to tell me later. What’s up with the upstairs? Don’t tell me you have a leak in the roof?” Mr. Tang asked a bit worriedly.

“We,” I glanced at the perpetrator making sure he knew who was at fault, “decided that it needs paint. Maybe we can paint over a few bugs while we are at it. Accidently, of course.” I added for the Feds listening.

“Bug problems? I take it that Lt. Lake is not part of your infestation issue.”

Shrugging. “If she is, I’m screwed even worse.” Which caused silvery laughter from the tall blonde in question.

“You have your hearing Wednesday.” For dad’s death certificate. “You don’t have to come. It should be a rubber stamp, unless they contest it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Tang.”

“How about showing me what you’ve done.”

“I’m going to run home for twenty. You boys have some catching up to do.” With a smile, Ronnie left us to our suddenly awkward selves.

“You trust her. Where is Lieutenant Lake from?”

“US Army Intelligence. They are acting counter to the Agency.”

“What is her goal?”

“Recruit me to the military when I turn 18. She lives next door with the Fed, the one that bugged my house. I don’t think they like each other.”

“And they are helping you pay for all of this?” he asked without judging.

“So far. Let me show you around.”

Knowing we were being monitored, we kept our conversation limited. “I’m going to take my GED next month. When I pass that, I can’t be forced to go to school at the camp or have it held against me.”

“And the Army?”

“We talked about me going there before. Not much has changed. Money will still be an issue for college. Ronnie said that West Point and the other Military Academies all have Supers enrolled already. As long as I can pass the entrance exam. I can get in.”

“It won’t be that easy,” he warned.

“No. Ronnie has started me jogging every morning. Besides it’s better than anything the Agency will offer.”

“What did your bodyguard do to earn your trust?”

I told him about the day of shopping, the concern, the GED, the moronic hired gun who wanted a fight and a few other things that popped up, leaving out the parts that were done in secret, like the bundle of twenties.

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