Chapter Twenty

“We’re Atlanteans, huh? And here I was thinking we were Tars.”

He referenced our high school team mascot, a sort of pirate. While ten years’ difference, we had both graduated from the same high school. He ate the last of the pudding as he sat cross-legged in the hospital room chair. I figured I owed him that, at least, for flying back to the States just to see me. He smacked his lips.

“You know, on the other side of the pond, you have to watch out what you order that’s named ‘pudding.’”

“So is it possible? Could there be some sort of DNA marker in our blood that makes us special?”

He set down the bowl, thought about it a moment, and shrugged. “Damned if I know. Is it possible? Yes. Can we test for it currently? No. We’ve just started mapping the human genome. It could take a hundred years before we know what each block means.” He set the empty bowl back on the tray. “If you want to know whether we are masters of our own destinies or if we’ve been programmed to be this intelligent, all I can say is, if there was a code inside of certain individuals that made them smarter, how much different is that from two athletic parents producing a child with athletic skills? The child still has the freedom to be an athlete or choose a different path.”

He looked over to the empty bowl as if he wanted more. “You and I, Noel, we chose science because we were good at it. Race memory, the type Miss Taylor talked about, it hasn’t overridden our dreams, but it might have enhanced them.”

Watson got up and paced in front of my bed to distance himself from the lost pudding.

“Since we revealed this information to the world, there must be a hundred different schools of thought on its potential. Universities and private companies by the dozens have launched DNA research projects. It’s gotten quite out of hand. New reports come across my desk daily. Can’t say I’ve seen through the lens of a microscope in the last month, at least not before Fred and Horatio called me.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.” I sat up a bit. The treatment was working through my system, and I was getting bolder by the moment. I wanted to walk around, but erred on the side of caution.

“No trouble at all. I’ll say I was a bit disturbed by their findings, though I concurred with them. To think that our DNA discovery could be twisted so. We envisioned saving the human race while someone else was looking to destroy it. It’s like Poland all over again.”

“You can understand how I felt then when I heard about the MASER.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. It makes you feel dirty.”

I couldn’t have agreed with him more. “It’s worse when you find out you’ve been used by the ones you kept closest.”

Watson thought a moment. “Are you sure it’s her?”

“I don’t know who else it could be.”

He placed a finger to his top teeth and tapped them while thinking. “You know, I could verify that for you, if it’s her or not, I mean.”

I was stunned. I decided I did need to get up. I swung my legs over and tested them on the hard tile. It was difficult, but they held. “How’s that?”

“Well, we know that everyone was their own specific DNA sequence and no two are alike—identical twins being the only ones without discernible differences. So if I could get a large enough sample of Tangie’s DNA from before the experiment and one from the woman claiming to be her, I could compare them and see if they match. It would take a while. It’s not an exact science yet.”

Watson’s theory had exponential possibilities. “You understand what you’re saying, Jim? We’re talking about a whole field of research around DNA investigations. Whose blood was found on the knife or victim? Who was in a house when a murder took place?”

He liked the idea. “Yes, you’re right. You could tell if a man raped a woman by just a sample of his hair.”

“Or sired a child?” I thought about Tangie’s illegitimacy claim.

“Yes, exactly. That’s a lot to think about. However, I do believe you have more pressing matters.”

I nodded. “So what’s to be done?”

Again he shrugged. “Not much right now. Let the government stop these Technocrats. The wave-blocker is in too limited a supply to inoculate an entire burg, let alone the country or world. And even then, there is more than one way to start a world war.”

“By Jove, Watson! I do believe you’ve hit upon something!”

Watson laughed. “Ah, so it would seem that you’re Sherlock Holmes, now, what? Well, it stands to reason. Watson was the smarter one.”

“Really?”

“Yes, read the books. You’ll see. Holmes needed a Watson to feed off of. Watson always knew what to say to help his friend reach the right conclusion.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And you think you’re smarter?”

“SAT scores?”

“Graduated a year younger.”

He grinned, the bottom of his teeth sticking through his lips just a hair. “Touché. I have got to catch a plane. I hope I’ve helped.”

“Yes, some. Thank you.” We shook hands. “Tars to the end?”

“Actually, I got picked on by the football team.”

Watson grinned wider still. “Yeah, me too.”

He was almost to the door when I thought to ask, “Hey, you knew C.J. Reece, huh?”

Watson stopped and turned. “In a capacity, yes. Why? What did you hear?”

There was concern in his voice. I decided to be vague. The man had just helped me, and I wasn’t going to accuse him of anything insidious. “He said something about helping you with the DNA research, private funding.”

“Ah, yes. What a clever way to put it. Yes, he privately funded some of our research. Why?”

I got to the real question. “Do you think you would have reached the same conclusion without his ‘funding’?”

He took a moment to phrase his answer. “Yes. I know we would have. I don’t know if we would have been the first, but we would have gotten there. Does that help?”

“Yes, yes it does. Thanks, Jim.”

“Any time, Noel.”

After he left, I got bold and stood. It felt good, so I moved to the window for some time, thinking about everything Jim had told me.

C.J. Reece had been prompting me for years without my knowledge. Maybe Tangie’s mythical Atlanteans had been as well. But in the end, all that really mattered was that I had the final say in what I did or didn’t do with the information.

Tangie was wrong. She wasn’t smarter than I. That’s why she wanted me taken out of their genocide game. She knew if I could look at all her pieces, then I’d know which way she’d move. I knew which pieces she favored: The knights, in the form of the Hero Twins. I’d captured one, leaving one still in play. Mendelssohn, as a bishop. She’d sacrificed him, but kept her other, Orchid, hidden behind a wall of pawns. Reece, another sacrificed piece. He should have been king, but switched and took the place of a rook. That’s why Tangie needed me. A new king to her queen only I wouldn’t play on her side.

She allowed me to take Hank’s and Atlantic Brewing out because they’d already done their job. The exciter drug was out there, already in the bloodstreams of hundreds of thousands of people including soldiers, diplomats and maybe the president. She’d set up MASER towers all over the country in places such as behind every Hank’s, and on top the Liberty Tower. Even the Empire State Building. Once Tangie flipped the switch, the Technocrats would face little resistance in rebuilding the country into their own image.

But Russia was a bear of a different color. Tangie’s counterparts over there must’ve spiked the vodka and food rations to drug their populace. How would the president even convince the premier that they faced genocide on their side, as well?

That’s why Tangie wanted a war. War levels the playing field. Fewer people on both sides of the Pacific meant fewer people to zap with the MASER. She needed World War III, or she could never succeed.

I could see across Fort Sheridan from my room. The place was a bustle of activity. The trucks I saw yesterday upon arriving were being unloaded. Giant crates moved via conveyor belts into warehouses for storage. I had no idea what they were or why Agent Cartwright had been so nervous when I questioned him about them. The military had a private game going, one I hadn’t been invited to play.

That left me with the Technocrats. I didn’t know Tangie’s endgame yet, but I could see her next move. Tonight, at Oktoberfest, she would try to kill the president and somehow blame it convincingly on the USSR. She’d also try to kill Merlot in the process. I couldn’t let that happen.

I found a set of clean clothes and got dressed.

* * *

“Whoa there, Glass! Where do you think you’re going?”

I’d met Agent Ream in the hallway outside command central. A war room had been set up for the president. I’d heard about it as I sought out Archdeacon. Being the consummate guard dog, Ream scrunched up his thin face at my appearance in his zone.

“Well, I heard they were serving hot coffee and scones in there and I’m just famished.”

He wasn’t amused. “The president is in there, and nobody without four stars is welcome, got it? You’ve done your part. Now go heal somewhere and let us handle our part.”

While I was feeling better every minute, I wasn’t in any shape for a fight. Luckily, the general stuck his head out. “Glass? I thought I heard your name. Get your ass in here. You’ve been laying around too much as it is.”

I grinned as I passed Ream. “I’ll save you a scone. Blueberry, right?”

The U.S. military war room didn’t come off much different than the Technocrats’ one below the Atlantic brewing company. They had a big map of the world in the center of their table, too, though it was pleasantly missing the mythical island of Atlantis.

Another similarity was the map I’d acquired from that place, now hung nicely on the Fed’s wall. Five red Xs marked five towers that’d been taken out.

President Eisenhower smiled broadly. “Glad you could join us, Dr. Glass. How are those ribs?”

“Not killing me anymore, Mr. President, sir. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Your uncovering of Hank’s Diner as a Technocrat ally was a huge breakthrough and may have forestalled a greater tragedy.” His smile warmed even more and despite silver hair, did not look old. There were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but one expected the leader of the free world to have some sleepless nights. I wondered how my own face was doing.

“Your friend Mr. Lee gave General Archdeacon a detailed report of what he overheard in the Technocrats’ bunker. Strange little fellow, that one, I am told. Can he be trusted?”

“Before Reece walked into my office a couple days ago, sir, I don’t know if I could have answered that question. But since then, Wan Lee has saved my life on several occasions. I trust him explicitly. If he heard what I heard, I can attest to the fact he has as much at stake as every American citizen.”

He offered me a seat and locked his fingers together in a steeple in front of him. “And what is at stake, Dr. Glass?”

“Well, to start, the Technocrats wanted to make your assassination look as if it were a Russian plot. This would, in their estimation and mine, start World War III.”

“But we know better, and so does the Kremlin.” countered Archdeacon. “We’ve gotten through to their top people and so far, they’ve been shocked at what information we’ve been willing to share.”

“Maybe, but still, we’re talking about super-science and things that defy logic. Plus, the Technocrats control several powerful news organizations. In the ensuing cacophony, it would be easy for all we’ve learned to be lost on the people left in charge. Has the vice president been informed of the Technocrats movements? Has anyone checked to see if he’s somehow involved? I’d be looking down the list to see who is legally in charge if government officials start exploding.”

There was a chorus of “Of course,” but then these slowed to a whisper as doubt crept in. Ike shook his head. “Someone get Dick on the phone and make sure he’s briefed.” Three people left the crowded room. “That was an oversight, Dr. Glass. Thank you for catching it.”

Richard Nixon running the country, now there was a scary thought.

“The Kremlin should do the same.”

“Agreed. What else do you have?”

I hesitated. “Other than trying to get you to call the whole thing off, not much yet.” I nodded toward the American map. “You’ve been busy dismantling MASER towers.”

“Yes, Ed is sending teams to take them out. Hoover’s men are meeting some resistance. It’s been time consuming, but they are making progress. Having a list of those Technocrat board members helped him immeasurably. The Bureau has been able to track and seize holdings for each of those companies.”

I was sure that was making Tangie furious. She didn’t have enough resources to protect all her chess pieces. The Tangie I knew a lifetime ago might grow desperate when she started losing valuable men.

The president stood up, “Well, gentlemen, it is time I got ready for my speech. I’ll expect you to be on top of things, Dr. Glass. This Taylor woman seems intent on doing me harm. I expect you to outsmart her. Is that clear?

“Yes, Mr. President.”

His tone turned soft for the moment, almost intimate. “Noel, it is clear to everyone involved that the world has done you a great injustice, branding you a murderer and a traitor. It is my intent, after all this is over, to make sure your record is cleared, and I’d like to invite you to Washington to sit on my cabinet as scientific advisor.”

The president offered his hand and I took it. I found my voice, though it cracked a little as I spoke, “I-I’ll consider it, Mr. President, when we have the Technocrats in custody. Thank you.”

The meeting broke and General Archdeacon walked with me back to my room.

“You’re holding something back, Glass. I don’t know much about science, but I know a poker face when I see one.”

“You got me, but it’s hunches only.”

“This is the president’s life, you know. Any intelligence could be vital.”

I stopped. “The problem is there is no intelligence behind it. This has turned into a chess game with Tangie, and I’m trying to stay one move ahead of her. If I move too soon, she’ll make a different move, one I can’t predict. It’s better that I just hold my cards close for a bit.”

The general shook his head. “Poker, chess, and that Lee friend of yours had a Go board in his possessions. Is all of life just a game to you, Glass?”

“You play war games, Duane, don’t you? Lee said people play games as they live life. I’ve been playing different games because life isn’t made up of just one. Every person you meet has their own favorite game with house rules only they know. If you play Go by chess rules, you’ll lose. I had been playing the Technocrats’ game by the wrong rules, mine. Now that I’ve learned what they are, I just have to beat them.”

“Fine,” said the general. “Just know that if we’re not prepared for the worst, and you could have prepared us …” He trailed off, but I’d received his message.

There were worse things in life than being branded a traitor.

We started walking again, and we passed a window. I pointed to the warehouses. “General? What’s been going on out there?”

“Sorry, Glass. Can’t tell you.”

“Oh, now who’s keeping stuff back?”

His face was stone expressionless. “This one is too big. Can’t say a word.”

“Not even a clue?”

“Enough, Glass. I have a duty to uphold and some places I just can’t budge.”

His wall of silence wound me up like an eight-day clock. “It’s that big?”

“It’s big. So don’t try to find out more. If you even get near those warehouses, neither I nor the president could protect you from the trouble you’d be in.”

I let it go, for the time being, but he’d confirmed something I feared.

There was only one secret in America that big.

* * *

The sun was low over Lake Michigan. Its orange rays gave my room an eerie glow. Horatio was wiping my puncture wound with an alcohol swab. He stuck a bandage to it. “That should do for the here and now. Even if you’ve had the DNA sequencer injected into you, this should hold off any body exploding.”

Fred had already injected Lee and Ream, my escorts. He brought out a small case from his lab coat. “Here are four more vials. We’ve already taken care of the president and his guards. The general refused to take it unless there was enough for all his men. Stubborn old coot, that one, but then he always was.”

Bravo for Duane.

Agent Ream spun his hand in a hurry-up motion. “The motorcade is getting ready to leave.” He was dressed in standard Fed wear.

I asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be in lederhosen?” and got a growl in return.

I felt more confident I was safe from MASER attack than I had been with the X-ray vest on. The wave-blocker took a half hour to work its way through a person’s system. I’d have to work fast to get Merlot—and everyone else—inoculated once we reached the fairgrounds. We exited the building and crossed the parking lot. I could see the warehouses. There were still quite a few soldiers in place, guarding whatever was in there.

Chicagoans lined the streets, waving American flags at the passing motorcade. Most people really did like Ike.

Most.

One group of men in white sheets held signs proclaiming Niga lover go home! and We didn’t vote a negro as presadent!

Ream reassured us. “Don’t worry about them. Those guys came up from Ohio. There is no real Klan presence in Chicago anymore. Ran out in the twenties.”

“You don’t have to be a Klan member to create problems. Isn’t that why the president came? Normal, everyday whites making life difficult for normal, everyday blacks in Trumble Park?”

“He’ll get things back on track. Eisenhower is a great leader.”

I found myself overcome by a sense of surrealism while passing through streets I knew as a child in a presidential town car. The vehicle’s glass was supposedly bulletproof, the windows shaded black.

It took me back to the day Reece had picked me up at my office.

My safety net was gone. I no longer had the protection of ignorance, nor the guilt of failure. They, Tangie and the Technocrats, had played me for a damn sap from the beginning. I’d been set up to fail, and I had played my part too well. I was young, cocky. Spending the last fourteen years as a pariah ages a man’s soul. I was wiser and ready to turn the tables on those who thought me just a pawn.

We pulled into the fairgrounds. Damn, there were a lot of people. Beer tents were set up in rows, one set for whites, one for blacks, yet the races mingled too close for my, or anyone’s, comfort. I wondered who thought packing a couple thousand people into a confined area and getting them fractured on beer was a good idea even on a non-Armageddon day.

We got out of our ride. There were armed soldiers at every gate observing while the Chicago PD performed pat downs. I’d see them occasionally pull something knife or gun-shaped from a citizen’s belt and drop it in a box before letting the person come through. Festival goers would then head for a booth and buy tickets. Each ticket was worth one beer.

One guy fisted fifty tickets.

A stage had been set up and cloggers—kittens by the looks of it—were on stage, dancing in wooden shoes. People watched from the fairground’s bleachers. I was assaulted with the smells of grilled sausages, sauerkraut, and funnel cakes. My mouth watered for a beer and brat, but a sign reminded me to stay on task:

Chicago’s 1953 Oktoberfest

Sponsored by Hank’s Diners and the Atlantic Brewing Company

There hadn’t been enough time to get new sponsors, plus the damage had already been done.

I scanned the parking lot for a limousine and spotted one sticking out from behind the bandstand. I moved in that direction, but Ream stopped me.

“Where you going, Glass?”

“I’m giving the mayor’s special guests the inoculants.”

“No can do. We might need that for an emergency.” He stared at my through his dark shades. “Plus, we all know you’re sweet on that singer.”

“It will be an emergency if anything happens to that canary. Merlot draws a lot of water around her, and you don’t want to be drinking that tonight.”

Ream didn’t back down. “She was Mendelssohn’s ex. She could be one of them, you know? She might be playing you and all of us for the fool.”

“She isn’t. See those thugs in the crowd that look like ‘made men’?” Ream looked out seeing several thugs who looked as out of place as his own people. “Well, they are. And they’re here to make sure nothing happens to Merlot. Things could get ugly if she gets hurt.”

“Fine,” he relented, “but we do this my way, okay?”

I nodded. Ream called over three men and gave them orders. They, in turn, blended into the crowd around us. Ream took the lead and got us by the limo. I found Merlot’s brother guarding the stairs to the greenroom.

“Oh, no! Not him! He don’t get back here!”

I was glad to have a government agent along. He flashed a badge. “Listen, sir. We’re on presidential business. Step aside.”

Tyrone didn’t move. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are. That man don’t get near her.”

“Tyrone,” I said, as compassionately as possible, “I’m here to help her. I can save her life. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Yeah, like you tried to save her life by hittin’ her?”

Ream and Lee both glared at me.

“It was a slap, and she started it.”

“Yeah, sure,” said the boxer. “You ain’t comin’ back here.”

The CIA agent wasn’t the patient type. “I don’t have time for this.” He tried to push past Tyrone. The large Negro shoved Ream hard. Ream planted a foot to stop his backward momentum and turned his inertia around into a fist. He planted the gut shot right in Tyrone’s abdomen. There was a large exhalation of breath, and the contender for the belt, Tyrone Sterling, went down.

“What did you do?”

Lee answered, “He use Tae Kwon Do. He use opponent’s force against him. Harder the joe push, the more force behind reverse.”

I might have been impressed, but so was Ream.

“Right on the money, Mr. Lee. I learned it over in Korea. First time I’ve gotten to use it.” He looked to me. “Thanks for that opportunity, Glass. Anyone else you want to piss off?”

We mounted the stairs, and Ream cleared us with the Chicago PD detail in front of the greenroom.

As we entered, I saw her.

Merlot. She wore the drape, the steel gray one I’d first seen her in. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. An older black man and woman had her in deep conversation, so she hadn’t noticed me. She smiled and laughed at something that had just been said. With our arrival, the couple stopped talking. Merlot followed their eyes to me and the smile disappeared.

“Ah, hell no! Not again!”

The mayor stepped forward. “What is the meaning of this?” His wife stood to the right of him and placed a hand on his arm. Their three guests stood as well. Everyone was focused on me.

“Um, well.” I wasn’t thinking fast enough. “The president, the president has a cold and we’re here to give you all a penicillin shot.” Ream gave me an incredulous look but picked up the dialogue after flashing his credentials.

“Yes, Dr. Glass here has an antibiotic shot for you. It’ll keep you from getting sick.”

All the occupants of the room bought it, save for Merlot. Her street smarts knew baloney when they heard it. Her expression told that and so much more, but playing the good girl, she didn’t say anything.

I reached for the case and remembered there were only four vials.

“What wrong?” asked Lee when I paused.

“I only have enough for four.” I looked at the five people, realizing I might be dooming one to death. As I stalled, I saw plates of food with Hank’s napkins and empty bottles of Ancient beer. I had to choose someone. Merlot started to open her mouth, and a part of me reeled in horror.

No, not you!

Luckily, one of the guests beat her to it.

“I rarely get sick,” said the Trumble Park man. “Make sure you give it to the women and his honor. I’ll be fine. I’ve handled much worse than a cold this year.” His wife looked at him with adoration. The mayor looked relieved.

Merlot, however, looked scared. Maybe it was my being there with a CIA agent, not in handcuffs, that forced the gravity of the situation on her. Her eyes pleaded with mine to smile, but I was serious in my task. Her rage at me gone, she trembled like a fawn by the time I bared her arm.

I gave the women the inoculations first, and then finished with the mayor. Trumble Park leaned over and kissed his wife’s bandage. I cursed the God of probabilities. Why couldn’t Fred have given me five vials? Damn!

Merlot pulled me aside as I made to leave. “What’s this about, Glass? You aren’t pulling something, are you?”

“I wished to hell I was, doll face. There’s bad mojo out there. But don’t you worry about that. You just show Ike what your mother taught you. You give him, and the world, everything you have. I’ll listen to your song, and I’ll watch your back. So don’t you worry, not one bit.”

Her face softened and I thought she might get leaky. I took her chin in my hand. “None of that. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Merlot said, “Well, I’m going to need new lipstick regardless,” and kissed me, hard.

Ream whistled. Lee groaned and pulled me away … eventually. “Come on, lover boy. Barbecue’s gotta set stage on fire and you gotta save world.”