Part 25

“What do you mean, make more?” asked Judge Tollifson.

“His father was a geneticist!” said Jane. “Why didn’t I see this before? It was a genetic experiment. It was even in his journal!”

“Stop!” I said. I stood up. “Listen to me. If you try to leave, Bobby will stop you. We don’t want to hurt anybody, but you have to listen to me.”

I waited.

“They’re scared,” said Bobby.

“I would be, too,” I said. “Just listen.”

Nobody moved.

“I know Bobby. We’re lucky he was raised in a convent, because he was protected from that part of the world that makes us hard and cynical and mean. When I first took him on the run, I told him he was still in The Garden of Eden, because he was so innocent. And he’s still kind, and generous, and sweet, because even though he was locked up and treated like a criminal, not once but twice, and even though people pulled guns on him and threatened him, all he wanted to do was use his talents for good. We’re incredibly lucky he isn’t Lex Luthor, because we have no Superman to protect us, if he had turned out evil. But he isn’t evil.

“For now, the world needs to think he’s a freak, a one-off kind of miracle, maybe an accidental mutation, because if the world knows more people could be like him after a simple operation, then everybody in the world would demand it. The streets would run with blood. And if this ability becomes available because people want to get rich by doing that surgery, then there will be Lex Luthors a-plenty and the planet will end up as a ball of molten slag. Letting this out without control would literally mean the end of the human race. It would be like giving every man, woman and child an atomic bomb.

“I’m not so naïve as to think nobody else will ever figure it out, like Mrs. Addison just did. And we will need more people like Bobby, if only to make sure they can control each other. But the information about his father needs to be the most secret thing in this country. As a special forces operator, my advice would be to terminate anyone who knows of that information. But I know Bobby wouldn’t do that. So I see my job, in all this, as overseeing the selection process to choose others who will be operated on. We need to choose the right people, because we’ll be giving them unbelievable power. And Bobby will need help doing all the things he’s going to be asked to do. These new people will be that help.”

I paused.

“And these people will police those who try to use the technology without authorization. That’s why the technology has to stay a secret until we have enough more like Bobby to be able to police it.”

Nobody said anything. I tried to imagine what each was thinking. I wondered if they had kids, and were imagining their kids having this power. Maybe they were imagining themselves having it. They were adults. They were jaded. They had been heartbroken. There were people they hated.

“I think we need to start with children,” I said. “Before the world hurts them too much, and they can still be trained to adhere to the kind of values someone with this kind of power must adhere to.”

“How will you know who to choose?” asked Judge Tollifson.

“Bobby,” I said. “He’ll know who we can trust.”

Smith was pacing.

“I keep thinking about those science fiction stories where the benevolent robots make more of themselves and then take over the world,” he said.

“He exists,” I said. “Even if you killed him, the knowledge that he existed would be there. And if the information about Professor Wilson gets out, and why he can do what he can do, I guarantee you a thousand geneticists will start working on trying to do the same thing. There’s a Nobel prize waiting for the first person to do it, and they all know it. Professor Wilson’s notes exist. The scientific information about how Bobby was created, the blueprints, if you will, exist. That information is hidden, safe, being protected, but if one man did it, others will try to do it, too. All we want, all Bobby wants, is for you, the first people to really understand how important he is, to just let him use his talent for good. If you don’t, it will fall apart. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise. We have a chance to develop it as safely as I can think of, but if we lose this chance, I doubt we’ll get another.”

“He’s going to need protection,” said Doug.

“We’ve worked on that,” I said. “I think we’ll be okay if we can keep a lid on this as Bobby’s abilities are developed in a responsible, ethical fashion.”

“How have you worked on that?” asked Jane.

“We trained him to detect the brain waves of someone trying to hurt him,” I said. “He can sense them even miles away.”

“I’d love to learn how you did that,” she said.

“The fact remains, we’re being blackmailed into keeping silent,” said Smith.

“It’s extortion, not blackmail,” said Doug. “You should know that.”

“It’s the threat of death,” growled Smith. “It’s illegal. Tell your client it’s illegal, counselor.”

“And you know the stakes. Call it self defense. If, by killing you, I avoid being killed, then that’s self defense.”

“I’m not a direct threat to you,” snorted Smith.

“Neither is the man who hires someone else to kill me,” I said. “I’m still within my rights to defend myself.”

“Stop arguing,” said Judge Tollifson. “We all know the deal, whether we like it or not. I don’t like it very much, myself, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re not getting out of here alive unless we swear allegiance to Ms. Clarke. I’d remind you we’ve been in here a long time, and people are going to start wondering what’s going on. I’m surprised none of my clerks haven’t barged in here already. So, young lady, while it pains me to accede to your coercion, I’m going to, because I’m not ready to slip the bonds of Earth just yet. I swear to you that I will not disclose anything I know about how Mr. Wilson came to be more powerful than any one human should be.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Welcome to the team.”

“I’m in,” said Jane, simply. “Want me to raise my hand and swear?”

“She means it,” said Bobby. “So did the judge.”

“See?” whined Smith. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”

“Mean it, and you have no problem,” I said.

He sat down. He was a politician, used to waffling and adjusting his position.

“What do I tell the president?” he asked.

“Tell him to trust you,” I said.

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Think about it,” I said. “You’re an important man right now. When the next president gets elected, you’ll be out of a job, right? If you’re on this team, you’ll never be out of a job. And this job will be the most important one you could even imagine.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said. “But all this would go against another oath I took. It would be like cheating on my wife.”

“Is that the one that says you’ll support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and that you will bear true faith and allegiance to the same?”

“Yes,” he said, looking surprised.

“I took the same one when I joined the army,” I said. “I don’t see a conflict. He’s not a threat to either the constitution or the United States.”

“But he could be,” said Smith.

“So could you, if you went off and joined ISIS, or decided to kill the president,” I said. “Look at the probabilities, not the possibilities.”

Bobby came over and whispered in my ear.

“Let him go.”

I looked at him.

“I can’t, Bobby.”

“Let him go,” he said again.

It didn’t take me long to decide. I trusted Bobby with my life.

“Bobby says to let you go,” I said.

Smith looked up. Then he stood up.

“Really? I can go?”

I swept my hand toward the door.

“And he won’t give me a heart attack, or some such?”

“I won’t hurt you,” said Bobby.

Smith edged toward the door. He looked fearful. I looked at Bobby, but he was calm.

When Smith closed the door behind him, Judge Tollifson said, “That probably wasn’t a good idea.”

“It’ll be okay,” said Bobby.

“Can you see in his brain?” asked Jane. “What do you see?”

“He was frustrated, not angry. When Tiffany talked about what she wants to do, I could tell he liked it. I don’t think he’ll tell anybody.”

“That’s putting a lot of trust in one man,” said the judge.

I looked at Doug.

“Is attorney/client privilege enough to keep you quiet?”

He raised his right hand.

“I want to be on the team,” he said. “I wouldn’t pass up this chance for a million dollars.”

“Speaking of a million dollars, you’ll need funding,” said Jane. “I might be able to do something if you come to work for the [redacted].”

“As a contractor?” I asked.

“Yes. He’d have to do some things out of the country. That’s our mandate, but it would let me design a contract that nobody could take down.”

“And it could be kept quiet?”

“From most people. We’ll have some problems with the NSA. Can I ask a question?”

“Of course. It’s a team. We all need to work together. Communication is key.”

“Will the team stay this small?”

“I would say not,” I said. “It needs to be small enough that it’s manageable, in terms of reaching consensus. Consensus doesn’t always work, but voting doesn’t always work, either. We need advisors, so Bobby can make good decisions about how to use his talent. I say he doesn’t want to be a weapon, but both he and I realize that may be required, occasionally, if only to protect him or the technology.”

“If we’re going to recruit a few more people,” she said, “the right person from the NSA would take a lot of heat off of us and open up lots of resources. Technically, I’m not supposed to be working inside the United States.”

“I agree,” I said.

“An ethicist would be nice,” said Doug. “Just to keep us on the straight and narrow.”

“We’ve already thought of that,” I said.

“It might be hard to find one,” said Doug. “Most ethicists I know would say this whole idea is unethical.”

“I have someone in mind,” I said. “She already knows about Bobby, and she’s scrupulously ethical. She’s the mother superior of the convent that raised him.”

“Religion and ethics all in one package,” said Doug.

“I can help with that, too,” said the judge. “I’d like to work with Ms. Clarke on her side of things, too.”

“What about the military?” asked Jane.

“That’s sticky,” I said. “I have an idea, but it’s radical.”

“Hit me.”

“Did you ever read anything by a guy named Richard Sapir?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I have,” said Doug. “My dad had a bunch of his books. I read them when I was a teenager.”

“Tell her,” I said.

“They were modern pulp novels, about two guys. One was a white guy, an ex cop who they faked his death, and the other was his mentor, an old Korean master assassin. They worked directly for the president. They were like his secret weapon when nothing else would work. Each president only learned about them when he took office.”

“In this case,” I said, “The president, in his role as Commander in Chief, would be our military team member.”

“That’s bold,” said Jane. “The problem is, the president is too busy to hang around with us. Most of us are going to be too busy to spend a lot of time together. We’ll still need an intermediary to go between the team and POTUS.”

“It’s too bad Smith left,” said the judge. “He’s in the perfect position to be that go-between, and he could then clue in his replacement, when the time came. If any convincing was needed, I’m sure Bobby could help.”

“Let’s hope there won’t be any world-shaking events in the beginning,” I said. “We’ll start small. He’s still learning. He can do a few things as we work on more. It will be nice not to have to look over our shoulders all the time. We’ll get more done if we have resources, too.”

The door opened, suddenly. Smith came back in.

“Okay. I’m in,” he said.

“Welcome back,” said Judge Tollifson. “What changed your mind?”

“He didn’t kill me,” said Smith.

We stayed at Doug’s house that night. Doug’s wife was named Guadalupe. She was actually a former client of Doug’s who was the victim of human trafficking. Like many others, she’d followed a coyote into the U.S. illegally, but had then been kidnapped and taken to a city on the eastern seaboard, where she was threatened with death if she didn’t prostitute her body for the man who had bought her. She’d been arrested one night when, ironically, her pimp was in the process of being murdered in a dispute with some other lowlife, which meant the lawyer who usually arranged bail for his stable of ladies didn’t get the word. She spoke English, but was quite content to sit in a holding cell until the system shuffled her along far enough that she was assigned a public defender. That public defender was Doug Baldwin.

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Support the author's future writing by purchasing this book from Bookapy

The Seventh Sense

Lubrican

$4.50