Pulling The Dragon's Tail (42 page)

“Thank you, Ryker. I am honored. What’s the
second?”

“You’ve got some very loyal friends here.”

She reached up and grabbed his hand, easily
lifting her to her feet.

“Thank you. I completely agree with you.”

Then he put his hat back on and ambled slowly
away. It took a long time until the old leather bushwalker finally
disappeared into the crowd.

As the others turned back toward her, Es was
seen to be admiring her body. She held out her arms, opened and
closed her hands several times. “I feel so strong and alive.”

“You still have a lot of explaining to do,” said
Nate.

“I know. Sit down with me. The grass is so
inviting.”

They all joined her. She stroked Dugan for a
long time while the others waited expectantly.

Taking Campbell’s hand in hers, the one-eared
transhuman said, “First of all, Dr. Mitchell Hilliard is
the
doctor I mentioned—and he is still alive.”

Dr. Mitchell Hilliard sat meekly in a chair at
the back of the spacious room atop his floating headquarters off
the coast of Bermuda. A bizarre looking helmet adorned his head.
Wires protruded from the helmet and drooped limply downward. His
muscular, stocky body seemed drained of energy, and his lungs
wheezed with effort. A day’s growth of whiskers had sprouted on his
face. For the first time in his life, he looked and felt all of his
113 biological years.

Consoles of computers and equipment dominated
the massive room. Large sky windows gave a bird’s eye view of the
ocean and Bermuda to the north. In the middle of this spacious room
lie a sprawling AI machine called MAGNUM. This machine, ten meters
long and five meters deep, contained seven identical consoles where
Hilliard and his colleagues plugged in to MAGNUM.

The consoles lie empty. One scientist had been
killed by Hilliard’s son, Beckett Reese and his accomplice. It was
clear that Mitchell Hilliard’s headquarters was in the hands of two
madmen.

Alone in his thoughts, Mitchell Hilliard
bemoaned how he’d dismissed his colleagues warnings that his son
Beckett Reese was a troublemaker. It had never crossed his mind
that his strong-willed son, cloned from the best Hilliard’s
technology and DNA could offer, would attempt to destroy him so
completely.

The assault by Herschel Hatton and Beckett on
the floating headquarters had been an easy task so far, especially
with the full insider knowledge which Beckett possessed. Six hours
ago Beckett and Herschel had accosted his staff at the exact point
when Beckett knew they were most vulnerable. They struck as the
scientists came off-line from inhabiting the artificial world of
computer intelligence inside MAGNUM, each person weak and
exhausted. The five men and two women aboard the floating complex
had been no match for the brute force of these two men.

Hilliard sighed, realizing the agony his
remaining colleagues were enduring due to Beckett’s careless and
ineffective administration of rejuvenator treatments. Rejuvenation
via the individually-titrated stem cell treatments was critical in
helping each scientist recover from the invasive reach of
artificial intelligence into every neuron and body cell. If not
consistent with receiving those treatments, each scientist risked
massive cerebral hemorrhage and death.

These six other scientists, nanotechnologists,
biologists, and computer experts, had been Mitchell H!illiard’s
truest friends in the world. They had worked together for many
years, all sharing the goal of defeating the disease of death.
So much progress! So much work still to be done! And now
this!
bemoaned Hilliard.

Most of his conscious hours consisted of living
inside the artificial reality created by MAGNUM. Likewise, MAGNUM
was allowed total access to Hilliard’s and his fellow scientists’
brains. Artificial brain and flesh-and-blood brain were being
integrated for research, for experimentation, and for pleasure.

Hilliard’s body, although biologically much
younger than his 113 chronological years, showed noticeable wear
and tear from his mighty efforts to defeat aging. No nano-implant,
no stem cell enhancement, no brain augmentation had been created
that Hilliard would reject. If it was possible to add to his
longevity, he incorporated it into his body. As much as he argued
with Es to be prudent to defeat the “this dragon of death.”, his
aim was broader, his passion deeper.. He simply didn’t care what
his body looked like. He wasn’t out to win a beauty contest. His
passion to extend the puny lifetimes of humanity was literally an
undying desire.

While Beckett stood in the middle of the room
along with his mysterious partner in crime,

Hilliard pondered the identity of the other man.
When Beckett had prematurely disconnected Hilliard from his neural
hookup with MAGNUM, it had left the father of the Alpha Group
temporarily blind. Suddenly, his sightless eyes brightened in
recognition. “Browning Watts, Alpha Group. Now you go by—”

“Herschel Hatton. Right you are.” Herschel stood
next to Beckett, monitoring Beckett’s work at the computer console.
Herschel turned around and faced Hilliard. “When Beckett first told
me you were still alive and kickin’, I was completely dumbfounded.
Now seeing you, it’s still hard to believe. I don’t know how you
find a positive life strapped to contraptions like this, imprisoned
by wires.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” replied Dr. Hilliard
in his gentle West Virginian drawl. “On the contrary, this is
bliss. I travel, I learn, I do, I create. I’m in constant contact
with the greatest minds on Earth.”

Herschel silently prayed.
Lord, thank you for
allowing me to do my part to stop this madness. We’re not
gods
.

“Enough!” Beckett bellowed. “We have a job to
do.”

“Right you are,” replied Herschel. “Has the
target been killed?”

The muscles tightened around Hilliard’s ashen
colored face. “Who’re you trying to kill now? What more do you want
from me, son?”

“Damn it! I’m your clone, not your son, your
manipulation of the gene pool so you can experiment on me for your
grand little scheme to attain immortality!” Beckett approached the
feeble man in the chair, glowering with rage, feeling so close to
vindication after years of mistreatment and exclusion.

“That’s simply not true!” protested Mitchell
Hilliard

“Quiet, old man!”

“Please don’t hurt any more of my staff! If it’s
me you want, you have me,” pleaded Dr. Hilliard.

Beckett glared at the weak man sitting before
him. For years he had envisioned how it would feel to hit his
father, pummel his fist into the elder’s stomach. A growl formed in
his throat, his hand formed into a fist. Beckett raised his hand
above Hilliard’s head.

Herschel stopped him, grabbing Beckett’s upper
arm with his powerful grip. “Easy. Don’t let your emotions let you
get carried away.”

Beckett spat right back, “Oh—and you never do?!”
He strained to loosen the hold.

Herschel glowered, lips quivering. Finally he
let go. “Damn! I hate working with idiots!”

Knowing her couldn’t compete against Herschel’s
physical power, he powered his fist into the wall beside Hilliard,
startling the blinded scientist. With an uneasy silence, the two
conspirators returned to their work at the computer console.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do?”
Hilliard felt queasy, almost nauseous. Being disconnected from the
Net was unfamiliar territory. Unable to summon commands at will and
impulse left him bewildered and helpless. Additionally a tube that
allowed him to both eat and drink had been pulled away from his
mouth.

“I’m thirsty..could you place the tube next to
my mouth, please?”

His plea was ignored.

Impatiently, Herschel said, “Well, did he, she,
IT do it?”

“I don’t know! Give me a little more time. I
know these codes well but not perfectly. Just stop pressuring me,”
hissed Beckett.

“Fool! If you’ve put me in danger, you’ll pay!”
fumed Herschel.

Beckett continued to work with the computer
system. A moment later, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Wait a
sec—it’s coming. Yes, there it is.” He showed Herschel the video
download. “Es did it.”

The lines on Dr. Hilliard’s face tightened even
further. “Es? How’s she implicated in all this?”

“She now follows
my
orders,” hissed
Beckett.

“You’ll never override her ethical programming,”
Hilliard replied.

“She already did. Kristopher is dead,” exclaimed
Beckett.

“I refuse to believe that,” replied Hilliard.
My dear Skip. My beloved Es. God, I hope it’s not true.

Herschel still wasn’t satisfied. “I have to have
absolute certainty.”

“You and your proof. Geez!” muttered Beckett,
feverishly working on the computer. A moment later, he hollered,
“Whoo-hoo! She’s dead too. I’ve just received her neural codes.
They’re forwarded to us upon death along with a pre-programmed
message: ‘Receipt of this communication indicates the neural codes
for transhuman four-three-seven has ceased functioning, code
0-1-01.”

Beckett gave Herschel a big smile, and a defiant
thumbs up sign.

Herschel smiled back.
At last, victory over
my nemesis. And now onto the others.

Dr. Hilliard sighed. What looked like a grimace
was actually a smile. He was quite sure he had correctly heard the
code. He tried to sit on his hands and pinch himself. Blinded and
kidnapped, he still had reason to hope.

Morosely, yet loud enough for his captors to
hear, he intoned, “Rest in peace, Es; rest in peace, Skip.”

On the eastern edge of the Rockies, the sun sank
lower in the late afternoon sky. In the middle of the town of
Murphy, the shadow of a giant elm tree half-enveloping Campbell
sitting on the grass. Her eyes were transfixed on Es. Thatcher
chewed on a piece of grass.

Nate lay comfortably on the grass, staring
heavenward with Dugan beside him. His mind was
still
reeling. He then looked at Campbell, realizing that her shock was
at least as great as his.

Es had explained in minute detail how Dr.
Mitchell Hilliard, Campbell’s grandfather, had continued to monitor
the anti-aging experiment with the Alpha Group after faking his
death in 2032. For over twenty years Es worked for Dr. Hilliard,
serving in a number of roles including guarding and monitoring
members of the Alpha Group.

Campbell rocked back and forth, slowly hugging
her knees. “I don’t know what to think or what to feel. I’m happy
he’s alive, actually elated. And amazed. Why couldn’t he have just
told me? So he’s been here—somewhere—all these years— alive?”

“Maybe.” Es reached over to scratch Dugan under
his chin.

“What?” everyone said in unison.

“Whoever tried to get me to kill Nate had to
break into the headquarters—and therefore, .had to break into his
mind and his computer system. I must cling to the hope that the
doctor is being held hostage.”

“Damn this cruel life” said Thatcher, shaking
his head and looking somberly at a wide-eyed Campbell.

“Oh, it’d be the worst sort of irony to be told
he’s alive when in fact at this very moment he may be…dead.” She
closed her eyes, her face contorting in an effort to fight back
tears.

“If only I knew more, I could reassure you,
but…” Es’s voice faded away, tinged with a sense of
hopelessness.

Eying Nate, Es asked, “Now that you know the
truth, do you trust me now?”

“Yes,” Nate replied. “If only I could’ve known
it was Hilliard.”

“Out of all my assignments, this has proved the
most difficult,” said the transhuman.

Thatcher deadpanned. “She’s never had to deal
with such pains in the ass before.”

Nate’s eyes brightened. “Quit bragging on
yourself.”

Es chuckled and shook her head. “Sorry, it’s not
that at all. The pressure to protect you

kept growing. As I got more attached to each of
you, the more I appreciated the goals each of you have. The threats
from Herschel Hatton and now Red Dawn are very serious. And…I just
didn’t want to mess it up.”

“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here
today,” said Campbell.

“Agreed,” said Thatcher.

“Amen,” echoed Nate. “That son of a gun,
Hilliard. I know how he always hated death, calling it a disease
that humanity must defeat. I should’ve suspected he would succeed
in pulling something off like this stunt.”

“It’s not a stunt,” insisted Es. “He fully
expects to achieve an immortality of sorts. If you think I’m bold
by getting a robotic heart and blood, then you need to witness that
man. He’s organized a behind-the-scenes group totally dedicated to
defeating death. They are assisted by the supercomputer MAGNUM.
I’ve feared for his safety many times because of what he has done
to his body. I think one reason he avoids me is because he may have
disfigured himself even more.”

“We have to do something to help him if you
think he’s been kidnapped!” insisted Campbell.

“Of course,” agreed Es. “First, we must assume
he’s alive. The message I sent to his captors announcing my death
and Nate’s death has hopefully bought us some time to form a plan
without them laying in wait for us. On the other hand, that message
could have made the doctor dispensable.”

“Let’s put our cards on the table, folks,” said
Thatcher. Gotta be our friend Herschel, or my dear old dad,
Sheridan North. I vote Herschel.”

Nate agreed. “Herschel has a personal vendetta
with me and all of the Alpha Group. He kept missing me—so maybe he
tried to go through Hilliard.”

“It had to have been an inside job,” Es
surmised. “The doctor’s security is impenetrable. I find it
difficult to believe any of his fellow scientists would become a
turncoat.”
But I wonder about his son, Beckett
. “Dugan, do
you have any information about Dr. Hilliard’s situation?”