“That was unbelievable what you just did,” Kirby said to Luthecker as they exited Miriam’s apartment. Kirby could hardly contain his excitement. “I mean, you knew every detail about her life, from beginning to end. And not only that, you showed her. And she saw it. She really saw it. It changed everything for her. I could see it in her eyes. It was like a curtain had been lifted. Even her mannerisms were different after the fact. She’ll never be the same, Alex. Can I call you Alex?”
Luthecker scanned the hallway of the old apartment building. The two men were alone. They walked next to one another toward the stairwell that would lead them to the alley exit.
“So my theory is, when they swapped out your birth mom’s DNA string with Miriam’s, they altered your genetic memory—literally altered your genes’ ability to remember. It turned you into a super computer,” Kirby rattled.
“I want to thank you for taking me to meet her,” Luthecker replied. “It meant a lot to me. It was important, but not in the way you think it was. And no, your theory about DNA manipulation is not what happened.”
Both men stopped walking.
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing. Memory is not wisdom, doctor.”
“But what you do is not normal. Your genetic birth situation was not normal.”
“You are correct about that. I do have two mothers, and my situation is not normal. And for a long time I thought the same thing you did, that it’s what made me different. But now, after meeting Miriam, I know that that is not the case.”
“Everything has an explanation, and you’re not above that,” Kirby countered.
“I’m not saying I am above anything or anyone. No matter what kind of DNA swap was performed to make me who I am, I’m still flesh and blood like everyone else on this planet. I’m still subject to the cycle and mysteries of life, and like everyone else, I’ll get old and die. You’re missing the big picture.”
“Well then explain it to me. How is it that you can do what it is that you do?”
Luthecker took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Have you ever heard of the ancient Polynesian navigators?”
“No. But what do they have to do with you?”
“They have everything to do with me. Just listen. Hundreds of years ago, these Pacific Islanders navigated tens of thousands of miles of ocean with perfect precision in nothing but outrigger canoes. Europeans feared the oceans then, seeing them as menacing and something that must be conquered, but the people of the Pacific looked to the oceans in a very different way. They understood that they as a people were intimately tied to the waters.
“So they studied the oceans every nuance, from movement to sound. They knew the meaning of its every tide, its every wave. It seemed an infinite task, and it took generations. But eventually they understood the relationship of the stars, the moon, the Earth, and the water. They understood that it was all connected, and they sought to understand that connection, and they knew that they were part of that connection.
“To them, being part of and not separate from the ocean was deeply rooted in their culture. And because of this, they never got lost in the waves. They could travel the oceans with no fear and complete mastery in only outrigger canoes. They handed down this knowledge from father and mother to son and daughter in the verbal tradition, and they understood that passing on that knowledge in that tradition was also part of the connection.
“But when western technology and Patriarchal beliefs separated us from the Earth, told us we were better than the land and the sea and viewed them as something to be conquered, this knowledge was lost.”
“So you’re saying you’re Polynesian now?”
“No. What I’m saying is the memory capacity I have that you think is only capable through some technical innovation with DNA is rooted in the concept of conquering the natural laws, not connecting with them. And that’s incorrect thinking. That’s incorrect being.
“What I can do is something that humans have been capable of since the dawn of time, but only when they worked together. That capacity has been in our DNA all the time. No augmentation is or was ever necessary. And what the oceans were to the Polynesian people, human beings are to me.
“It’s been that way since I was a boy. It’s just who I am, and I know that now. And I know that it’s not an aberration. That I’m not an aberration. And meeting Miriam served to confirm what I was already beginning to suspect. That what I can do is necessary and natural in order to help restore balance.”
“How did you suspect this?”
“Because I see it in another.”
“The girl in your apartment. The one you rescued in Mexico. That’s who you’re talking about, right?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it.”
“What I can do is not something new. It is not created by some scientific anomaly. Instead, it is something very old, and it exists in all of us on some level. It is an ability whose time was coming again, and that’s why it’s appearing. Nothing new is learned in this world, it is simply remembered.
“We’ve repressed our ability to connect with one another and our surroundings as a species. That’s what causes many to feel so lost and in pain. It’s also what allows those who are most fearful in this world to manipulate those who are most lost.”
Luthecker looked at Kirby. “And that manipulation is what I aim to end,” he continued. “And if you’re sincere in your goal to stop the next great extinction, it starts with recognizing this. It starts with recognizing that we have to reconnect with one another again. Convincing one person at a time, if necessary.”
Luthecker moved toward the exit. Kirby thought about Luthecker’s words for several seconds before following. Kirby, ever the clinical analyst and never a believer in this kind of nonsense, couldn’t help but find Luthecker’s words inspiring.
“Every person matters, I remember,” Kirby finally replied. “But we’re still going to need to change our behavior as a whole to save the species.”
The men reached the exit.
“Of course we are. As you’ve stated in the past, your goals and mine are not in conflict. But do you understand what puts at odds the way you think and the way I do?”
“No, but I have a feeling that you’re about to tell me.”
“One thing and one thing alone: fear.”
“I want you to read my fate like you did to Miriam, like you did to all of those soldiers on the Siachen,” Kirby blurted out. “Just like you’ve done for all of your loyal followers. Just like you’ve done to everyone you’ve encountered. I don’t understand why you’re singling me out on this.”
“For some, the weight of their choices destroys them.”
“You think I’m afraid I’ll collapse under the weight of my own stupidity? I’m not afraid. I don’t believe in static definitions of anything. I’m willing to learn, and I want to know.”
“Your path doesn’t lie in the same direction as mine.”
“It doesn’t have to. And I keep telling you, I’m not afraid. Just think of what someone like me could do if I knew what was around the corner.”
“I am thinking that. It’s what gives me pause.”
“Very funny. Can a guy who sees around the corners of the universe even have a sense of humor?”
Luthecker stifled a laugh. Then he examined Kirby for several seconds.
“Shit—you know about me already, don’t you?” Kirby reacted. “Why won’t you tell me? What are you afraid of?” Kirby challenged.
“In due time, I will tell you what it is you want to know. If, when this is over, you still want to know it.”
Luthecker pushed through the exit and into the alley behind the apartment building. He barely had time to clear the door when an Asian man in his twenties bumped into him.
“Excuse me,” the young man said, without breaking stride. In seconds, the young man disappeared around the corner, as if nothing happened.
Luthecker knew exactly who he was and exactly what had happened. He had been given a message. The young man was Vietnamese, Joey Nugyen’s younger cousin, and right now Luthecker had a piece of paper with a message in his coat pocket.
The kid is good, Luthecker thought to himself.
“What was that about?” Kirby asked.
“Nothing. We have to go.”
Luthecker and Kirby cleared the alley and moved onto the street. Two large men with crew cuts and Slavic features immediately approached.
“Alex Luthecker, my friend,” Kosylo said, in the most nonthreatening tone a man with a thick Russian accent could muster. “My name is Kosylo, and this is my friend Mika,” Kosylo managed an awkward smile.
“My boss, Ivan Barbolin, who I am sure you know, offers his courtesy and protection and only asks politely if you would perhaps meet with him to speak. It would only be a moment of your time.”
The second Russian, Mika, watched the street and stood close to Kirby.
“Do you know who I am? Who I work for?” Kirby mouthed off.
“Yes. We do,” Mika said, his accent thick.
“You are not invited,” Kosylo said to Kirby. “You can wait here.” He then turned to Luthecker. “He is over there, waiting.” Kosylo said to Alex, before nodding to a bench across the street.
Luthecker looked over at Ivan Barbolin who sat on the bench looking back at him.
The Russian oligarch nodded recognition like a Mafia Don.
Luthecker did a quick scan of the street. He counted at least a half dozen Russian men guarding the oligarch from strategic points. If anyone made a move on the man known as the Barbarian, they would be dead in seconds.
“A simple conversation is all he requests. Before things get…complicated for us all. What do you say?”
Luthecker looked at Kosylo, at Mika, and then back at Kosylo. He knew that the Russian men’s fate dictated they had only moments to live. “I’d say that you’re one fatal step behind.”
Kosylo tilted his head, puzzled, and that’s when he heard helicopter blades, quickly followed by roaring engines and screeching tires.
“Stay close to me. And when the time comes, remember our conversation,” Luthecker said to Kirby, before all hell broke loose.
In seconds, the street was filled with four BearCat armored personnel carriers. A Black Hawk helicopter abruptly dropped low and hovered with its gun turrets locking on target. Soldiers simultaneously poured out the back of the BearCats, rifles ready.
Kosylo and Mika drew their weapons, and ran in the direction of their boss, the Barbarian.
The M-16s of the Coalition Assurance officers barked to life, and the bullets cut down Mika and Kosylo before they covered half the distance to their boss.
The Coalition Assurance officers cut down two more Russian enforcers with their M-16s before the rest, including the Barbarian, held up their hands in surrender.
Both Luthecker and Kirby found themselves facing the smoking barrels of the weapons that, only seconds early, had cut down Kosylo and Mika.
“On the ground, now!” a Coalition soldier screamed at Luthecker and Kirby, the barrel of his AR-16 pointed squarely at Luthecker.
The soldier looked more robot than human, with helmet, goggles, mask, Kevlar vest, padded combat pants and boots, all in black, all designed to be intimidating.
Luthecker glanced at Kirby. The scientist was white as a sheet and shell shocked into silence.
Luthecker held up his hands and slowly dropped to one knee, eyes locked on the soldier. He glanced at the scene and noted every soldier: their looks, their habits, their sizes, their strides, their gates, and their breathing patterns. He noted their every move. He took in the weapons, where they were pointing, and for how long. He took in the vehicles, down to every rivet, every parking angle.
All of it meant something to Luthecker. All of it told a story, an inescapable tale that only he could read. He took note that they were not LAPD. There were no National Guard markings. These misdirects were no longer necessary. Everything was proudly—unmistakably—marked with the Coalition Properties, Inc. logo.