Sigma One (33 page)

"Sorry, Mr. Grayson. I was an aviator, and besides that was a long time ago."

Burt knew it was too much of a long shot to hope for and on hearing the negative reply, moved back to take his chair. As he sat down, he felt slightly flushed, but the feeling subsided as quickly as it came on.

Pat, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer began his questioning, but only after giving Amanda, whom up to this time he had completely ignored, a baleful, gratuitous thank-you look to which she responded with a "screw you very much, I'm hurt, you son of a bitch" look in return. He knew she was probably upset at the greeting he had given her. He couldn't help that. Under the circumstances he had done the best he could do. He did, after all have his priorities, and at that particular moment, his priority definitely was not giving one tinker's damn whether or not Amanda liked the greeting or not. His priority was finding out everything about the young man she had brought to him, and, confidentially Scarlet              to borrow a phrase              he didn't give a damn' what she

thought
.

The interview took less than twenty minutes during which Burt described his experiment and his medical problems; the latter he explained that he suspected as being directly related to his successful linking. On hearing this, Pat shuddered inside, but showed no outward signs of emotion. He did, however, comment on this last statement, lying through his teeth, saying that he thought Burt was mistaken on that account.

Finally, Burt explained the underlying reason he was so obsessed with furthering his research going into full detail what a better place the world would be if other paraplegics like his brother Daniel could be given the gift of being taught how to link.

Pat listened attentively to all that the young man had to say, and in part, felt that Grayson was a kindred spirit to himself being driven by goodness for other people's sake rather than his own selfish self-interests. It made him sad he would have to lie to him, but lie to him he did, promising him "a full research scholarship with no strings attached," (Just sign here said the used car salesman. No need to look under the hood. It runs fine and has never been in an accident) just as soon as some preliminary testing could be completed-testing which Pat planned to start immediately.

Pat got up from his chair and put his hand around Burt's shoulder to make him feel more comfortable. (It didn't. It only made him feel worse.) He then cast a you'd-better-be-right-about-this-one glance toward Amanda who was still acting snubbed, her lower lip pouting slightly as she stood against the wall leering at him for the way she was being treated.

"That's a pretty amazing story, Mr. Grayson and you seem to be one altruistic person," Pat slapped his back and moved toward the door.

"Altruistic?" Burt didn't know what it meant.

"Yeah," Pat said, "altruistic--giving of yourself in hopes of bettering others, charitable. Downright charitable."

This was the first nice thing Mr. Huxley had said to him since they met and it chipped some of the ice off the heretofore cold feelings Burt was having toward him, such feelings caused by Huxley's evasiveness at Burt's attempts to find out more about him and his organization. Maybe Huxley wasn't such a bad guy after all, Burt thought. "Thanks, Mr. Huxley. I never really thought of myself as charitable. I just want to help my brother and others like him, that's all. I appreciate the opportunity you're giving me, really," Burt gushed, hoping for a reply.

Pat said nothing.

Burt tried to sound convincing and inside really did feel lucky to be getting this chance, but something was still bothering him. Something was wrong with the way Pat didn't even respond to his saying thanks. He didn't know why or how, but something was definitely w-r-o-n-g and his skin began to crawl as he simultaneously got a sinking sensation deep in the pit of his stomach as he watched Pat move toward the door.

Amanda just sat there and yawned, seemingly unaware or uncaring how Burt was feeling. She was thinking, though. She was thinking what a fool Burt was and a little sorry for him, too. She had listened to what Pat had promised Burt, but she knew Pat's dodge. Grayson wouldn't be getting anything if he didn't pass the test.

At that moment, Pat stepped over to the door and punched in his code and turned back and looked at Grayson and Amanda.

"There's just one more thing we've got to do before we get you settled in and let you get started with your research." Pat dangled the bait, hoping Grayson would bite. He did.

"What's that?" Burt asked feeling the sinking sensation in his stomach grow into a certifiable gut-wrenching belly ache. He knew it was too good to be true--that he'd be allowed to just waltz into this organization based on his word. He waited for Pat to give him the good news.

While he waited, the vault door swung open and Pat stepped out into the corridor and then began to speak without turning around. His voice echoed slightly in the vacant hall and the words were a bit garbled and hard to understand, but the phrase "just a little test" came through very clearly. When Burt heard it, the small knot in his stomach quadrupled in size. He felt like he had swallowed a mixture of battery acid and cod liver oil and knew the test would probably involve him having to link and afterwards he might experience another blackout. This was just the thing he didn't want to go through at that particular point in time, but he was on the spot! If he were ever going to help his brother, he knew he'd have to link. This was no dress rehearsal, and this was one performance he would have to give flawlessly in spite of the post-performance consequences.

Although part of him wanted the sensation of power and freedom he experienced after linking, (the part that loved the uninhibited, raw sense of energy which flowed through his body making him feel like he could kick Arnold Schwarzenegger's ass with one hand tied behind his back), the saner, meeker part of him (the geek/computer programmer, sissy Mr. Burt Grayson) knew the change in his personality wasn't good. No it wasn't good at all, in spite of what the old Elton John song said..."Get back honky cat, get back              Oh, the change is gonna do you good.") Nope. Linking, Grayson knew was a long walk off a short pier, and he wasn't sure he wanted to take that walk, although he knew he had to if he were ever going to help Daniel.

Pat took three more steps into the hallway and then turned. When he did, he was staring directly at Burt. He had purposefully not turned around earlier hoping that Burt would just fess up and admit he was a phony. Although Pat really wanted him to be able to do what he said he could do, inside he doubted that his luck was that good in spite of what Amanda had said about his ability and what Burt had professed earlier.

Pat looked at Burt and then spoke. He could see his potential new employee looked ever-so-slightly agitated and wondered if Burt was indeed afraid to be tested. He decided to ask and be done with it. "You don't have any problem with a small test of your abilities before we sign the employment contract, do you?"

Burt swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He didn't want his voice giving him away that he was afraid all right, but not of being tested. He knew he could link. It was what linking would do to him that he was afraid of and not the test itself, but if he told Huxley that he knew he'd be out the door 'in a heartbeat' so instead of telling him what he was afraid of, he decided it safer to act like nothing was wrong. He forced a smile and answered. "No sir. I don't have any problem at all. Let's get started." He tried to sound as confident as he could but he knew his voice was strained. All he could hope for was that Huxley didn't notice.

Pat looked at Burt for no more than two seconds after he answered and then turned and proceeded down the hall. He could tell Burt was frightened by the tremor in his voice and cooing him that way made Pat uneasy, and he felt like calling the whole thing off right then. Why waste the time? Why put himself and Burt through the strain of the test? Why not just call Radcliff, cancel going to Vegas and let Walker take care of the Soviet? Why not just tell Grayson to check into a hotel, come back in the morning and test him then? When he flunked the test, which he would surely do, he could then put him on an airplane and be done with it. Then he could go about his business and Pat could do the same. Besides, maybe Grayson needed to be rested for proper results to be obtained in the test.

All these questions raced through Pat's mind as he continued walking down the hall. Everything seemed to be pointing to delaying the inevitable testing: something inside Pat unconsciously was trying to justify, because he was so afraid that Burt would fail and with that failure, he'd be back to square one. At least if they put off testing until the next day, he would have one more day of hope. Testing immediately meant hope would be shattered just as soon.

Pat got to the end of the corridor and turned around. Amanda and Burt were right behind him. He then extended his hand to the cypher lock on the wall and punched in the code for the lab. The vault door instantly responded by clanking open. He stepped into the well-lit room followed by Amanda and Burt, and as soon as he did, three lab technicians dressed in white lab coats came forward to meet him. He hoped they had finished the preparations. If the tests were going to be performed, then at least he hoped they would go off smoothly.

"This is Mr. Grayson," Pat said turning to the technicians and then to Burt. He then looked at Burt who had joined him at his side.

"Mr. Grayson, meet Doctors Jerome, Geoffries, and Stark. They'll be the ones who will be administering the test," he said and then stepped

aside
.

Burt stood there frozen, unable to speak or move while he studied the three technicians standing in front of him. The first and older of the three, Dr. Jerome, was slightly built with thinning dark hair combed straight over his head to hide the circular bald spot which was right on top. Jerome's face was horribly wrinkled and hung on his skull like paper mache that was not quite dry and put on by a toddler in his first attempts at making a Halloween mask at school.

Dr. Geoffries, the second technician, was short, perhaps five feet three, and nearly as round as he was tall. He had a full head of light brown hair which he parted in the middle and which fell evenly on all sides making him look as if his barber had used a bowl placed on his head and then cut only the hair which extended beyond the rim. He appeared about thirty-five years old.

Dr. Stark, in his early twenties and the youngest of the three, was thin, like Jerome, but had a huge roman nose which took up half of his face. He had an extremely high forehead and wiry sprigs of disheveled bright red, unevenly cut locks which stuck out on both sides, like Bozo the clown. He also had a shiny bald runway of skin which extended from the top of his forehead and ran all the way to the back of his neck. To Burt, although still frozen with fear of what the three scientists had in store for him, the trio, because of their peculiar looks, reminded him of mutant copies of the three stooges, but he was unable to laugh or to smile at the similarity. Instead he just stood there while the Elton John melody, 'Get back, honkey cat              0000h, the change is gonna do you good,' kept running through his mind reminding him he would soon have to link.

Burt's eyes were beginning to get glassy and his palms slightly wet when Dr. Jerome finally approached him and shook his hand as Pat finished the introductions. All Burt could do after this was utter an automatic, guttural "nice to meet all you all," (Mo, Larry and Curly). His greeting had all the sincerity of an Ollie North 'I don't recall what I was doing on the night of so and so,' with the money, but went unnoticed.

Dr. Jerome pumped his arm up and down while the other two stood back and observed their newest subject, each doing their own version of Colombo sizing up a criminal, and each trying to determine what made Burt different from their previous linker (O'Shaunnesey), but neither seeing or taking notice of Burt's nervousness as he churned inside.

Burt felt nauseous and could tell the technicians were scrutinizing him, but felt unable to stop the paranoia that was threatening to take him over, but as soon as trio turned their backs to him and returned to their computer consoles across the room, he began to slowly return to normal as his curiosity got the better of him.

He watched as Dr. Jerome (Mo) finished giving instructions to Dr.'s Geoffries (Shemp) and Stark (Larry) and instead of the two apprentices fumbling and bumping into one another like the three stooges they resembled would have done, each moved confidently and quickly toward a stack of glassy three foot by three foot semi-opaque sheets of what appeared to be thick, heavy plastic. What these were or how they fit into the experiment he didn't know, but he continued watching as, one by one, they lifted each sheet and slid them vertically into the five wooden frames that lay in the center of the lab. With each new plate positioned, the two simultaneously grunted and then robotically went to the stack until they were done and the five "dark windows" stood in line. Pat Huxley, who had stood aside while the technicians readied the experiment, waited until the last window was in place and then turned to the tall Mosier safe which stood near the wall, spun the dial, opened it, and then pulled out a silvery metal sphere approximately a foot in diameter. He took the sphere and then placed it onto another wooden pedestal which stood directly in line with the windows.