Authors: Michael Bray
"Go further into the tunnel," Akhtar hissed at Youness, shoving his head down and pushing him into the filthy, dark opening.
Youness whined and cried, scratching at his brother.
“Do it now, Youness. Please.” Akhtar hated to do it. He knew his brother was terrified of the dark, and that this was probably terrifying him. A crackle of gunfire reminded Akhtar that he could deal with a brother who was afraid and upset as long as he was alive. He shoved his brother into the dark ahead of him, gasping for breath and falling to his knees, not caring what might be floating in the water as long as they were safe
Youness was sobbing, his face streaked with a combination of tears, drool and sweat. Akhtar grimaced at the amplified sounds of his brother's cries, as they bounced off the walls and spread deeper into the sewer system. It was too loud, and would surely draw the attention of the men in black. Hating himself for doing it, Akhtar covered his brother's mouth, restraining him as he struggled in confusion.
"Shh, you must be quiet, please Youness, be still," Akhtar whispered in his ear.
The younger boy simply didn't understand what was happening and continued to kick and thrash and try to wriggle from his brother's grip. Akhtar was about to try a different method of silencing Youness when he saw the men in black walk past the gap between the buildings. He drew breath and increased the pressure on his brother’s mouth, backing further into the darkness of the tunnel. The men walked past the alleyway, none of them casting a single glance in their direction. As they followed the direction the bulk of the crowd had gone. Akhtar waited, counting to sixty in his head and listening to the screaming and gunfire move away from him. Realising he was holding his breath, he relaxed and released his grip on Youness, who responded with a fresh torrent of tears, glaring at Akhtar with eyes which were confused and afraid. Akhtar let him cry. After all, he deserved to feel guilty for putting his brother through such an ordeal. When Youness eventually calmed and his sobs morphed into occasional moans, Akhtar turned his thoughts to what their next move should be. The city was no longer safe, of that there was no doubt, and even if he did try to go back the way they came he doubted he could get Youness to go with him. He looked over his shoulder into the inky darkness of the sewer tunnels. It seemed it was their only option.
"Come on Youness, let's go," Akhtar said, holding a trembling hand out towards his brother.
Youness looked at it, still confused as to what was happening. Reluctantly, he grabbed Akhtar's hand, and the two boys stood, Akhtar having to hunch over in the small tunnel.
"Let's see if we can find a way out," he said as they walked, immediately noticing that rather than stay level, the tunnel seemed to decline, sending them deeper below ground level. As they inched further into the foul smelling underground, Akhtar couldn't shake the feeling that what they had experienced was just the beginning, and things were about to get much, much worse.
CHAPTER NINE
GENTEC LABORATORY
WASHINGTON D.C
FROM THE OUTSIDE, GENARO’S lab looked like nothing more than a modern glass and steel building on the outskirts of Washington DC. As one of the many unlisted government buildings located all over the United States, its purpose was neither advertised nor queried and ran mostly off the books. Genaro's research which started off in the office of the home he used to share with his late wife and funded by the little cash he could beg or borrow from those showing interest in his work, had grown into a laboratory covering five hundred square feet of real estate and contained the very latest (and most expensive) equipment which was provided to Genaro without question upon request. A lot of the equipment he didn’t actually need and were the result of the early weeks when the budget cap on his project was lifted. He ordered the most expensive equipment he could, not because he would need it, but because for the first time he was able to be so indulgent and wanted to see just how much leash he would be given. His staff of forty was made up of some of the brightest brains in genetic research, and all answered directly to him.
What his staff weren’t aware of, was the secondary laboratory which was accessed via Genaro's office and located in the sub-basement. It was here where his own private research took place, away from the prying eyes of his staff who he knew were only a stolen idea away from being rivals. It was here, in the fifty-foot square lab space where Joshua was being held. The holding chamber was made of bulletproof Lexan, which was the same material which was used in the Popes bubble car and the presidential limousine. Joshua lay on his bunk, slender hands folded behind his head. He glanced towards the door as it opened and Genaro walked in accompanied by two men who he recognised. Curious, he stood and watched them approach.
"Is this him?" Genaro said to Robbins.
"Yeah, that’s the guy," Robbins grunted, walking to within inches of the reinforced Perspex and looking Joshua in the eye.
"You were at Camp Blanding," Joshua said, a flicker of a smile on his lips.
"Yeah, I was. I saw what you did to those men. Our men."
"They started it. I did try to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
"Don’t try to justify it you prick, you killed them in cold blood."
“To call it cold blood would imply I cared. I can assure you, that wasn’t the case. It was an unfortunate accident.”
"Don’t give me that crap. Trust me, you'll get the chair for this. Executed like you deserve." Robbins grunted.
"I don’t think so," Joshua said, letting the smile grow to its full width. "I don’t think so at all."
"Commander Robbins," Genaro said, cutting in before Robbins could respond. "I think it might be a good idea to go upstairs and get some fresh air."
"Yeah, I think so too," Robbins said, glaring at Joshua. “Just remember what I said, asshole. You’ll fry for this.”
Genaro waited until the commander made his leave, then grabbed his tattered desk chair, rolled it in front of Joshua's holding cell and sat down.
"How are you, Joshua?" He asked, taking off his glasses and slipping them into his breast pocket.
"I’ve been here for almost seven hours now. This is the first time you've been to visit me. Have I offended you so much?"
"I’ve been busy. There is nothing personal in it."
"I’m sure you have," Joshua replied, sitting on the edge of his bunk, watching the scientist carefully.
"Your hair got long," Genaro said, an almost wistful smile forming on his ancient face.
"I’m growing it."
"It goes well with the beard."
"I know."
"You look very....biblical."
Joshua smiled and folded his hands together. For a moment, Genaro thought he was praying, then saw that he was, in fact, waiting for the scientist to go on.
"Look, Joshua, you’ve caused a lot of trouble and there are people who are demanding answers. Now you and I have a history, and I hoped you would open up to me and explain your actions. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you hurt. I want to help you."
"I appreciate that Doctor Genaro. You were always good to me. My father always said you were a good man." Joshua’s smile was warm and genuine as he spoke, his voice amplified through the speaker on the front of the cell.
"Then let me help you. Of anyone, you know I won’t hurt you. You know how much I appreciate what you did for me by volunteering for the Apex programme." Genaro said.
"Yes, I know you have good intentions. I also know I mean more to you alive than dead. But you need to understand, that I’m not the naive boy you remember who started this journey. Things have changed."
“I mean no disrespect. I think of you as a son. You know that.”
“And in a way, I am. You took the boy I was and turned me into the man I am. Mary Shelley would be proud.”
“You’re no monster, Joshua. No matter what they tell you.”
“Nor was the creature in the Shelley novel. He was a bright, misunderstood individual who was feared because he dared to be what his creator had made. Only when the book was translated to film did he become grotesque and frightening. I wonder if this tale will have a similar conclusion.”
"I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect, I'm just doing as I was asked. As I said, I want to help you."
“And to do that, you need information, I presume?”
Genaro nodded. Joshua smiled. "You want to know how it's working, don't you?"
"I'd be lying if I said no. They shipped you off to Afghanistan before I could see the results. You have no idea how I fought to have them leave you behind so I could continue to work with you.”
"Yes, I never understood why they sent me off to a war zone so quickly. I suppose the governments of the world wanted a return for their investment, to try out their new toy. Still, this isn't quite how I imagined us meeting again. I’m unsure if I’m disappointed or not."
Genaro readjusted his position in the creaky seat, captivated by his charismatic prisoner.
"Your father was so proud of you for helping us to make this a reality, or, at least, he was until he found out how they intended to utilise you."
"Yes, he told me the military should value my brain rather than my trigger finger." Joshua's eyes glazed over as he said it, and he averted his gaze. "Of course, he had no idea exactly what you had done to me. I suppose it was my fault for expecting anything else."
Genaro squirmed. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then stared at the desk full of papers as he searched for the right words.
"I know why I'm here, Doctor Genaro. I also knew they would bring me back here, to you, to this place. I have to admit, I preferred it when it was less cluttered with people and equipment."
"It's the downside of progression I'm afraid. After seeing your initial test results, Project Apex suddenly became interesting to those who had been so desperate to close us down before."
Joshua nodded and watched the scientist, waiting for him to find a way to ask the question he really wanted to. Realising it wasn't going to come without prompting, Joshua decided to help, if only because time was so short, even if those outside of the cell didn’t know it yet.
"Do you remember my IQ when I first started the Apex treatment?"
"Of course," Genaro said. "I read your file so many times it became second nature. You scored 109 as I remember. High end of average, just a hair below superior."
"Yes, I remember. Would you like to know what it is now?"
"I would," Genaro said, the scientist in him unable to help himself.
"Just after I was shipped out to Afghanistan I tested at a hundred and twenty-two. I did another test recently and scored a hundred and fifty-nine."
"Such an improvement is impossible, that puts you in the Einstein range."
"Not quite, he was around a hundred and eighty I believe. Although, if you were to test me now, I wouldn't be surprised if it had grown again. I suppose I have you to thank for that. ‘Behold the great Creator makes himself a house of clay, a robe of virgin flesh he takes which he will wear for ay."
“What was that?” Genaro said, unable to help but smile.
“Thomas Pestel, circa fifteen eighty-six to sixteen-sixty, I believe.”
“You believe me to be this creator?”
Joshua nodded. “Yes. You moulded your house of clay on my innocence. I suppose I thought it might be a fitting reference to this situation.”
Genaro flushed and lowered his eyes, staring at his scuffed leather shoes. "The serum shouldn't have been so potent,” Genaro said, shaking his head. “It was supposed to be a steady and controlled increase. Nobody expected it to bond so completely and quickly with its host."
"Ahh, but you made one critical error, or, more accurately, oversight," Joshua said, standing and pacing the room, hands clasped behind his back.
"We know something went wrong, my team and I just don't know what exactly."
"Wrong?" Joshua said, pausing and staring at Genaro with raised eyebrows.
"Yes. No disrespect intended, of course, but based on the initial intention of the project, I think it’s a fair assessment."
"I disagree. In fact, I think you have developed something which will go on to change the future of mankind for the better, even if it seems that wasn’t your intention.”
"That was my hope, but the government have pulled our funding. Backed out. Project Apex is done."
"I sense a little bitterness in your voice, Doctor. I take it you blame me for this?"
"Not just you, no,” Genaro said with a shake of his head.
"You mean the incident at Blanding? They were given every opportunity to avoid a confrontation, and instead, they pushed and pushed and pushed." Joshua hissed, lashing out and punching the steel frame of the holding cell.
"Calm down, please," Genaro said, fear for the first time coming ahead of his thirst for knowledge. "This isn't like you, Joshua, you were always so calm."
Joshua was glaring, eyes wild, breathing in ragged gasps. Blood wept from his knuckles where he had punched the wall. Genaro had no doubt despite their previously close relationship; Joshua would have killed him if not for the physical barrier between them. Taking a deep breath, Joshua sat on the bunk, elbows on knees, head hanging low.