Rise of the Elgen (17 page)

Board member Two spoke up for the first time. “I am the first to commend you for your success with the Starxource program, Doctor. Our power plants have been even more successful than we envisioned or hoped for. My question is, now that we have found a commercially viable use for the technology, why should we continue pursuing an end, which, after more than a decade, appears to be a dead one?”

“I would second that argument,” Nine said. “Even if we are successful in achieving your Neo-Species goals, I see no commercial application.”

“Commercial application?” Hatch blurted out. “We’re talking about creating a new species of human beings. We are altering the very course of human history.”

“Exactly,” Nine said. “And how do you propose we monetize that? These are people, not machines. If we create an electric person, they are free to do whatever they want with that power. What is to keep them from sharing their gifts with the highest bidder?” Nine turned to the chairman. “It is not our objective to create history, it is our mission and corporate objective to create profits. If the doctor’s goal
is a worthy one, and I have no doubt that he intends it as such, I suggest he create a charitable organization to pursue these ends—but separate it from the corporate body.”

Hatch didn’t answer, though some of them noticed his hands trembling with anger.

“At any rate,” Two said, “whatever good may come from electrifying people, it certainly will not generate more profits than the already proven Starxource initiative. We have a very real opportunity to become a force of global power, larger than OPEC or any of the oil-producing countries of the world.”

This started a discussion among the board members. Chairman Schema raised his hands for silence. When the room was quiet he turned his attention to Hatch. “Dr. Hatch, you should be aware that this discussion on the continuance of the Neo-Species program is more than a hypothetical one. Several months ago a motion was brought before the board to shut down the program entirely. At that time we tabled the motion until you could join us in person and be given the opportunity to defend your work.”

Hatch turned red. “Shut down the program? That would be ludicrous. The power of this corporation exists because of this program.”

“That is incorrect,” Twelve said, speaking out for the first time. “The MEI was developed prior to the Neo-Species program. Unfortunately it is still too dangerous to use. The only part of the machine we can duplicate is the part that kills people. I agree with the commercial assessment proffered by Nine. I believe we should focus our efforts on the propagation of the Starxource initiative, to the exclusion of all else. Future discoveries will still come, just from the Starxource labs.”

“I have a question,” Three said, looking over a document. “Please explain this twenty-seven-million-dollar price tag for our facility in Peru. It’s nearly double the cost of our other plants.”

“We added a new guard training facility as well,” Hatch answered.

“What are we training them to do? Fly?”

Several members chuckled. Hatch looked at Three, concealing his
fierce anger behind a controlled demeanor. She had been against him from the beginning.

“Elgen security is of utmost importance,” Hatch said. “Just one leak of our information or the theft of one pair of breeding rats could endanger our entire operation. Security is no place to count pennies.”

“Twenty-seven million dollars is hardly pennies,” she retorted.

“Dr. Hatch has a valid point,” Chairman Schema said. “But why Peru?”

“Peru gives us a certain latitude to train in privacy and in the manner we consider best practice.”

“Very well,” the chairman said. “Is there anything else you would like to say, Dr. Hatch, before we vote on the future of the program?”

Hatch glanced around the room. “What you are considering . . . to shut down the Neo-Species Genesis program is to turn our backs on the future.”

“Wait, wait,” Three said. “What future are you speaking to? Certainly not the Starxource program. The future could not be brighter.” She turned to the other board members. “I sound like the slogan, don’t I?”

“Please,” Hatch said. “Just give me another year. We are on the verge of a breakthrough. With the finding of Vey and the twin, Taylor, we expect critical advancement.”

“But you don’t have Vey or Taylor,” Three said.

“We will soon. I promise you, you won’t be disappointed.” Hatch turned to Chairman Schema. “Just give me twelve more months.”

“We’ve been hearing a lot of promises but seeing few results,” Three said. “You ask for another year, I would maintain that we’ve given you five years too many. At least.”

“Mr. Chairman,” Four said, “I move that we suspend discussion for a vote.”

“Do I have a second?” Chairman Schema asked.

Three hands went up.

“Very well. Doctor, if you would please leave the room while we conduct a vote.”

Hatch slowly stood, looking over the board members. “Shutting
down the Neo-Species Genesis program would be a huge mistake, one I believe you will live to regret.”

“Noted,” Chairman Schema said. “If you would please wait in the reception area, we will momentarily notify you of our decision.”

Hatch walked outside the room, shutting the door behind him. Tara and Torstyn watched him enter. They could see from his expression how angry he was. Torstyn started to speak, “What’s—?”

Hatch held up his hand to silence him. “They are voting on our future.” He sat down on the couch. Nothing was said. Less than a minute later the door opened.

“Dr. Hatch, you may come in now.”

Hatch returned to the conference room. Few of the board members were looking at him, and from the sympathetic expression of those who were, he knew how the vote had gone.

“The vote was not unanimous,” Chairman Schema said. “But there was a majority vote in the affirmative to dissolve the Neo-Species Genesis program. To avoid further expenditures we are asking you to fly immediately to Peru, where you will relieve the scientists who are involved with the program.”

“But . . .”

Chairman Schema raised his hand. “You will relieve these scientists of their current duties. Obviously we cannot just release them back into society, so they will be assimilated into the Starxource program. Their expertise led to the creation of this program, so we expect that their talents will be put to good use in maintaining and improving the program. At our current rate of growth and demand we will certainly need their specialized knowledge.

“The GPs, of course, are no longer of use to us. For obvious reasons, we can’t just release them, as that would cause serious problems and inquiries into our activities. We trust that you will find a creative
solution
to this problem. We don’t want to know about it.”

“What about the electric children?” Hatch asked.

“It is also the decision of the board that the electric children should be reintegrated into normal society. An endowment will be
established for each one allowing them to pursue further educational or vocational opportunities.

“As for Vey, you will reunite the boy with his mother with sufficient monetary remuneration to guarantee that there will be no lawsuits filed. We expect you to work with Legal to ensure that this delicate situation is handled discreetly.”

Hatch was speechless.

“This is not a censure, Doctor, this is simply a change in course. We appreciate your devotion and the success that your efforts have brought to our company.”

Hatch clenched his hands behind his back, his jaw tightening. “Do you have a time frame for this action?”

“We desire an immediate shutdown. We expect you to be in Peru within two days to begin the process. We realize that your relationship with the children is as personal as it is professional, so your timeline for that transition is up to you and the children to decide; however we expect that all business related to this matter be finalized before the end of this calendar year. We ask to be kept informed in all aspects of the transition. We thank you in advance for your expeditious handling of this matter, and we trust that it will be more successful than the shutdown of the Pasadena facility.”

Hatch looked around the room, veiling his contempt for most of the gathered body. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it immediately.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Tara and Torstyn stood as he entered. “Come on,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

Walking to the helipad, Torstyn asked, “Where are we going?”

“To Rome to gather the others. Then we’re headed back to Peru.”

Within minutes the three of them were hovering over the Tyrrhenian Sea on the flight back to Rome.

“What did they say, sir?”

“They want to dismantle the NSG program.”

The kids looked at each other.

“What?” Torstyn asked. “How come?”

“What about us?” Tara asked.

“I’ll tell you on the plane,” Hatch said. He glanced down at his satellite phone. “No! No! No!” he shouted. He pressed a button on his phone. “Get me Dr. Jung immediately.”

“What is it?” Tara asked.

Hatch looked at her with a dark expression. “Tanner just tried to kill himself.”

T
he Elgen helicopter landed around 7:00 p.m. atop the six-story Elgen building just outside of Rome. Bright orange lights flashed at the corners of the structure, silhouetting the waiting guards dressed in the Elgen black uniform.

“Welcome back, sir,” one of the guards shouted over the sound of the helicopter’s rotors.

Hatch shouted to Tara and Torstyn, “Get something to eat, then gather up the rest of the family in the conference room by eight.” He turned to the guard. “Where is Tanner?”

“He’s in restraints in the basement detaining cell, sir.”

“Where is Dr. Jung?”

“He’s in the basement with him, observing, sir.”

“Come with me.”

They took an elevator from the roof. Tara and Torstyn got off on
the second floor while Hatch and the guards went all the way down to the basement level.

The marble-tiled corridor was dimly lit and the only sound was the echo of their footsteps as they walked. The observation room and detaining cells were at the end of the hallway. One of the guards opened the door, and Hatch stepped in.

Dr. Jung, the resident psychiatrist, was sitting in a chair facing a two-way mirror that looked into the adjacent room. He stood as Hatch entered.

“Dr. Hatch, I was just—”

Hatch raised his hand, silencing the psychiatrist. He leaned forward toward the glass to better comprehend what he was seeing in the next room.

Tanner, one of the seventeen electric children, was cuffed and curled up in bed in the fetal position, softly whimpering. His long, red hair was tangled up around his face.

Hatch studied him for a moment, then turned back toward the doctor.

“You incompetent worm. I told you to fix him. Do those letters before your name even mean anything?”

The psychiatrist was red in the face. “I’m doing my best.”

“And your
best
is in restraints curled up in the corner of his room.”

“He’s not a machine, sir. He’s a boy. You can’t just go in and change out a few parts and make him better.”

“But I can change out a few doctors,” Hatch said.

The psychiatrist took the threat seriously. He’d heard rumors about what happened to those dispatched from the Elgen service. Most became GPs. Some of them just disappeared. He began stuttering, “W-w-what do you want me to do?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the shrink. Give him a pill. Give him a hundred pills, just fix him.”

“He has a conscience. If you killed a thousand people, you’d have trouble sleeping at night too.”

Hatch leaned in toward him, his eyes narrowing. “I
never
have
trouble sleeping, Doctor. And if you ever insinuate anything like that again, I’ll see to it that you never have trouble sleeping either.”

The doctor swallowed. “I didn’t mean to imply . . . Tanner’s just really stressed right now. He’s been worked too hard. Children need downtime. We need to let him spend some time with the other teenagers. And his parents.”

“His parents?” Hatch said softly. “You think he should see his parents?”

The doctor looked terrified. “He said he misses them.”

“Of course he
misses
them, you idiot. That’s why he’s been taken from them. So you think he should spend a little quality time with them? And what if he tells his parents what he’s been doing, and they tell him they would rather die than have him drop another plane from the sky? Add that to your list of mental problems.” Hatch walked across the room. “You’re on probation, Doctor. Don’t disappoint me again.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll figure him out.”

“You better. I’m taking both of you with me to Peru. I expect the boy to be heavily sedated. Heavily. I don’t want to be along for the ride when he decides to take his life again. We leave first thing in the morning, oh five hundred hours.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hatch looked back at Tanner for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room. On the way to the elevator Hatch’s phone rang.