Episode 47, “Loose Ends”

By Phil Elmore

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“You think you’re very clever, don’t you, Annika?” VanClef demanded. He held in his hand a fistful of wiring, which he had ripped from the climate control computer in the back of the cargo truck. “I have to admit, I would not have considered the electronics in a computer control system to be a suitable broadcast exploit. It didn’t occur to me that a system so simple could be made to respond that way.”

“I could show you how,” said Annika.

She sat handcuffed to a chair in the middle of the vast, empty warehouse. The truck was parked nearby. On another chair, positioned opposite her own, VanClef sat, rubbing his silver pistol with a polishing cloth, checking the weapon’s magazine and the rounds inside it.

“That’s not necessary,” said VanClef.

The only other object in the warehouse was an enormous crate. To Annika it looked like a coffin. It was big enough that Daddy could have walked inside, if he wanted and the lid was off. She didn’t like that thought.

“You do realize that having your father come here is precisely what I wanted?” VanClef told her. “Project Violet must be sanitized. That means purging any evidence of it. Your father, regrettably, is evidence.”

“If you want Daddy to come here, why did you smash the computer so I couldn’t make watches appear?”

“Because you’re ruining my timing,” said VanClef. “My men weren’t ready. I hate having to rush them into the field without proper planning.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Annika. “The people you sent out to kill Daddy won’t come back.”

“My dear,” said VanClef, “these are highly trained government operatives. What’s more, they’re smart enough to be loyal to me before Intelligence. Your father is no match for trained agents with laser-guided smart carbines.”‘

“My Daddy is the biggest, strongest man there is.”

“Your father is a side effect,” said VanClef. “Haven’t you figured that out yet? Project Violet’s purpose was to create super-intelligent children. Children like you and the other girls. We were never funded to create bag-job monstrosities like Ian Peyton.”

“Daddy is not a side effect!” Annika told him.

“Of course he is,” said VanClef. “The process of rebalancing and enhancing the endocrine system, introducing the genetic markers and manipulations we require… it is a very complicated science. In order to make the DNA sample viable, it requires an almost super-human donor. The implants we grafted to Peyton’s systems made him as he is today, but we didn’t do that for him. It was an ancillary effect, a collateral result of the endocrine manipulation itself. We simply wanted his DNA to produce you.”

“That’s why being pregnant killed my mother,” said Annika.

“You’ve guessed that, have you?” said VanClef. “Yes. Regrettably, the mortality rate among surrogate mothers was one hundred percent. Their bodies simply could not withstand the strain.”

“You’re a very bad man,” said Annika.

“That’s a meaningless concept,” said VanClef. “I’m an intelligent man, doing what I was trained to do. I’m trying to better all of humanity, Annika. You and your… your siblings, if you’ll allow me to misuse the word for convenience, will be the key to a new class of super-computing soldiers. Imagine what we can accomplish if we are able to operate unfettered by electronic hardware. Thousands, millions of computations carried out within the magnificent human brain alone. The ability to integrate concepts, to see patterns in world events. Why, one day, your genetic descendants could be a master race, an elite ruling class.”

“You’re not going to find the other girls,” said Annika. “We’re already smarter than you think we are.”

“I found you, didn’t I?” said VanClef. “To be honest, the only reason you took priority was because of your father’s activities. I couldn’t risk him bringing undue attention to the Project. As it is, I will be lucky to survive this. It’s going to take all of my diplomatic abilities to get back in the good graces of Intelligence. I’ve strayed a bit far afield… but they’ll forgive me if I can present them with you, at least some of your sisters, and a clean slate with no loose ends. That’s why we’re waiting here now. You’re bait. I’m waiting for your father and, when he arrives, I’m going to tie up the loose end he represents.”

“How many Daddies are there?” Annika asked.

“There were three others,” said VanClef. “I used them to take down your father. Unfortunately, they didn’t work together as I’d hoped. Big Bill was always a disappointment to me. If he had been successful, I could have used him to move the Project forward. But he was unstable. Narcissistic Personality Disorder, among many other issues.”

“So Daddy is the father of all the girls.”

“No,” said VanClef. “With only a single, viable DNA sample from one donor, I used a DNA sequencer to create unrelated variations. Endless genetic possibilities resulted from a single batch. Your father is, technically, the father of all the girls, but only on paper. In reality, you are his only genetic offspring. At best, the other girls are very distant cousins. I will collect those girls I can. The others I will eliminate.”

“Your dead men are ‘loose ends,’” said Annika. “Couldn’t you hear the shooting outside?”

“No,” said VanClef. “Your hearing extends higher in the audible range than an ordinary human being’s. It’s part of your genetic heritage. Why? Are you claiming you heard a gunfight?”

“I’m not claiming anything,” said Annika. “The men you sent are all dead now.”

VanClef holstered his gun. He was so angry he didn’t even bother snapping the retention strap closed. He wanted a fast draw. He wanted to put a round through Ian Peyton’s brain, put a stop to this monster once and for all. Placing two fingers to the transceiver in his ear, he said, “This is VanClef. All units, report.”

There was no response.

“I told you,” said Annika. “My Daddy’s coming.”

“Shut up!” VanClef told her. “It’s a communications error.” Again, he said, “This is VanClef. Report! I say again, any available units, report.”

“He’s going to pull your arms and legs off,” said Annika. “He’s going to crush your skull.”

“Shut up!” shouted VanClef.

The doors to the warehouse, which were locked and bolted, shuddered as something impossibly heavy crashed against them. The very walls of the structure shook under the attack. VanClef’s hand fell to his gunbelt.

“When you’re dead,” said Annika, “we’re going to go through your pockets.”

The doors to the warehouse crashed inward. Metal shrapnel littered the floor. Peyton had shattered the hinges into which the doors were built.

“I want my daughter,” he said. His voice was a menacing rumble. “Give her to me and I won’t break everything you have.”

“Peyton,” said VanClef, standing. “I have someone I’d like you to meet. I call him Orrin.” He reached out and pulled the lid off the crate. It fell to the floor. The creature that emerged was as big as Peyton.

“Daddy!” Annika called.

The armored, bipedal figure turned to face Peyton. Its head extended on a metal stalk. An array of cameras built into its sloped forehead projected laser targeting lights. Its heavy arms raised. Weapons pods snapped into place, revealing gun barrels and the noses of small missiles. A military designation was spray-painted on the metal monster’s flank. The whole thing was a mottled desert brown in color.

“You don’t have to serve him,” said Peyton. “You can be your own person.”

“Orrin is a military Og,” said VanClef. “He’s not a person at all. And I’m afraid he does have to obey every word I speak to him. I am his commanding officer, after all.”

“Don’t do this,” said Peyton. “Just give me my daughter.”

“Orrin,” said VanClef, “kill this man.”

The military Og began marching toward him. Peyton lowered his shoulder.

“Well,” he said quietly. “Come on, then.”

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