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The stairway was dark and damp. It smelled like a vague mixture of latrine with a hint of Frat House. The odor was horrendous. It reminded Karen of a time when she had driven through Newark. She hesitated as she opened the door. She wanted to take a clothes pin to her nose but knew she shouldn't it. Bridge would be there. He'd achieved a higher Infinity Integration level than she had. She couldn't be disrespectful.
"Mr. Bridge, the unknowable essence escaped in Curry's apartment," she said.
"Good. My sources in the great infinity tell me that our world has been spared one disaster but the present remains in constant danger. The fifth beast awaits," said Bridge.
"Are you sure Curry will try to protect it?" Karen asked . . .
"Considering what form it takes- he'll defend it with his life," Bridge responded.
"It is a shame he has to act against us. I- I used to be a fan."
Bridge stepped out of the shadows.
"Karen- be careful that your sentimentality doesn't give way to full blown nostalgia. We would not want you tempted by sin," Bridge said. "Go to cleansing immediately. Check your D meter. Make sure you aren't descending to the finite."
"Yes, sir," she said.
Shock Jock looked down into the jar as he lowered the test tube onto the floor of Lucas's bathroom. His intention was to get the samples and be done with it. Major Patriot had gone into the other rooms to get some readings on the apartment.
"So- Poupette- what do you think this black stuff is? I mean really, this whole weird oozy stuff coming out of the bathroom reminds me just a little too much of Ghostbusters 2. The bad news is if I'm right, we all start unleashing our pent up aggression on each other. The good news is- Callidy would owe me $100, " Shock Jock said.
"Oh? What did he put his money on?"
"The Black Oil Virus."
"What?"
"Can you believe that occult loon is still an X-Files buff..."
"Ah, very nice, Hon," she said. "Now this is interesting. Very interesting indeed. I think Andy will be pleased."
Shock Jock frowned. He didn't notice the crack in the test tub or the tiny amounts of black substance oozing into him.
"Why do you always call him Mr. Weinstein or Andrew on combat missions but every other time it's Andy?" Shock Jock asked peevishly.
"We've been over this a million times. With your trust fund boy lifestyle, you'd think I'd be the one asking you about exes," she said.
"There is a difference. I don't work with any of mine."
"Please. It was one week long seminary on weapons design... a year before you and I met. It really didn't mean much to either of us-" she said, "- well me, anyway."
"Prove it!" he said in a gravelly voice.
"Here? Honey, this is the scene of a possible other dimensional incursion. We can't destroy evidence..."
Shock Jock's body crackled with energy. Black goo oozed out of him. The ooze fell to the ground in dried clumps. Shock Jock stared in surprise. Poupette jumped to the ground with a fresh sample jar. She carefully gathered the now hardened black material into the container.
"... even after the episodes with Robert Patrick," he said.
"Interesting. I'll have to get this to the lab," she said.
"What? What just happened?" he asked.
"The good news is- you and Callidy owe each other money. It unleashes aggression and possesses them," she said.
"Oh great- I didn't go off about Weinstein again like that time I got drunk at the Christmas party- did I?" he asked.
"No Dear- besides- I think Andy has his hands full with Doctor Ilsalynn Bridge-Traeger," she replied, "Not to mention Juanita's little thing for him."
"Which is never going to happen. But Andy and Ilsalynn Bridge-Traeger... the thirty something astrophysics and archeology chick on that cable show- not to mention potential Astronaut?"
"Ahem."
"I didn't mean chick in that I thought she was hot... just that y'know- for the geeky type she kind of is..." Jeff trailed off and started again, "She's in her mid to late 30s- Andy's twenty eight. Didn't figure her for the cougar type."
"She's a closet super powered teleporter... and yes.... she is. They're a much better fit than he and I ever were," she said.
June 28th, 2001
Poupette stared into Colonel Elliot's face and then back to Father Stanhope, then back to The Colonel. His face remained still. Stanhope's lips twinged.
"Is there any reason why you won't perform the requested service, Father?" Elliot asked. He had a feeling he didn't really want the answer, but he waited for it anyway.
"The service Major Primeaux asked for is nonsensical- and is one that the United States Army does not recognize or condone," said Stanhope.
"It was not my request. It was Captain Taubman's," she replied.
"And- that being the case, I contacted the nearest Rabbi for assistance- but he was unable to fly all the way out to our training facility- not on a Friday night anyway. He had to be buried within 24 hours as a matter of faith," said Taubman.
Poupette stared blankly at the walls. Sam had trusted her to make sure this got done. No one else in the squad- her. She rolled her eyes.. She didn't agree with it but it was his request.
"Captain Taubman converted to Histhology three years ago," Poupette explained.
"To what?" barked The Colonel.
"It's a cult. A rather dangerous one at that," said The Chaplain.
The Colonel coughed.
"I see the problem. And you wanted us to do what, Major Primeaux? Launch his body into space? Throw his body into the sun? Shove him into a black hole where time can have no hold on him?" The Colonel asked.
"No- middle to high ranking members within the church have their brains cryogenically frozen so parts of themselves will remain available to the bodies they believe still exist in an alternate reality. Sam- Captain Taubman- received such a rank several months ago. He was proud of it," she said.
"You're not a believer, are you?"
"No."
"Then why are you fighting this so hard? His parents requested a standard service."
"Sir, I don't think this should be about the Army, ourselves or his parents. It is about Captain Taubman," she said.
Ellie stared into Andrew's eyes with a look of confusion.
"I'm a what?"
"You're what we in the field call a genetic keystone. If it's humanoid, including some of those extraterrestrials we've encountered, you can reproduce with it. That's your superpower- that's it. Gongrats- you're about five or six weeks along--" Andrew said.
"Okay- that I understand. Then how do you explain the weird drawing thing-" Ellie asked.
"Sometimes- due to hormonal imbalances- a female keystone will temporarily mimic the power of their offspring. No one knows why. Probably some sort of defensive mechanism- similar to one that costs Lucas his hearing and limits my emotional capacity. I've been meaning to put some time into it but I have quite a few things on my plate right now."
"Make the time," pleaded Ellie.
"I'm not sure I can do that right now . . . " Andrew said.
There was a bleep on the intercom.
"Andrew- It's Callidy. Can you meet me down in the library please?"
"I'm on my way," he said. "Now- I'd tell Lucas, if I were you. He's a lucky man. I'll talk to you later. I've got to run."
Andrew walked into the elevator and pushed the 'L' button. As he stepped out, he noticed Callidy sitting in the science fiction section. He was still in his bunny suit, one ear flopped over his eye. Lucas was sitting in the corner reading a copy of Slaughterhouse Five.
"Ah- sir- I think I know why we've had trouble identifying the statue-" Callidy began.
"And you're in the science fiction section because..." asked Andrew coldly.
"Tell me Sir, are you familiar with the writing of H. Reginald Wilson?"
Andrew coughed. Lucas put down his book, perking up.
"Wilson? The hack who couldn't cut it as a sci-fi writer in the 1950's so he formed a time worshiping religious cult? What did he call it again?" Andrew asked, feigning ignorance.
"The Church of Histhology," Callidy said.
"Huh- what? Those guys who say the past is constantly eating the present and the only way to save the future is to access the knowledge, skills and talents of our 'infinite potential' through the psychic link we share with ourselves across these alternate universes called 'The Never Moments'," Lucas interjected.
"Yes- um how do you know so much about it?" asked Callidy.
"They like to fleece the Hollywood elite. My manager warned me about associating with them- and avoiding any Histhologists if possible. It can be a mixed blessing. One minute you're on top of the world- next you're jumping on Ellen's couch and getting into shouting matches with Al Roker about gastric bypass," Lucas said.
"What does gastric bypass have do with alternate universes?" Callidy asked, puzzled.
"They claim it is forcing the infinite out of you-" Lucas said. "Bad karma or something."
Andrew looked nonplussed. "That's your big theory?"
"Look at this copy of Wilson's religious textbook 'Multiversatility,' explained Professor Calidy, "Here he describes four monsters. Typical Lovecraftian design. The two we fought in the ocean- the other in Ellie's drawing. The fourth-"
"- are these 'Never Moments'?," Lucas asked.
"No. That's this one here," Andrew said pointing to the third figure on the statue.
Lucas studied the third figure carefully, "Then we're missing the future?"
"By their own religious beliefs you couldn't paint or sculpt the future. Well, you could but it would be the future of then and not the future of now. The future is amorphous and multiheaded. It is constantly changing," Callidy explained. "Or- to put in terms you could understand, Mr. Curry-"
"Don't patronize me. I used to lead this team. I have a Bachelor's, College Boy," Lucas quipped.
"In musical theory- from a podunk college in the Yukon," Andrew scoffed.
"As I was saying- imagine if an amoeba mated with a hydra- that's what the future looks like to them-" Callidy said. "But that's not what bothers me. If I'm right- and I assume because Andrew hasn't dismissed this tangent as completely insane he thinks I might well be- the monster that had the most holes in it wasn't the present. It was the past."
"Which means?" asked Lucas.
"It means the past could be dying," Andrew said.
"Yeah, I got that. But what does that mean?" Lucas asked impatiently.
"I'm not one prone to saying this, gentleman," Andrew said in a way that seemed to channel David Ogden Stiers. "But I don't know."
Advanced Weapons Research Conference, Los Alamos New Mexico, July 2nd 2001
Poupette sat in the quietest corner of the bar. Business men, contractors, senators and generals sat discussing proposals they had seen, negotiating costs of various 'concept weapons'. She had been there for the better part of an hour and had barely touched her second drink. A man stumbled by and clumsily dropped a bottle of ketchup which splattered on Poupette's designer shoes.
"Damn it- I just bought those for this conference," she huffed.
"Forgive me," the man said. He tapped his watch. "Lionel- can you come and inspect this woman's shoes- have a pair exactly like them delivered to her room by the morning."
Poupette looked up at the man for the first time. Not bad looking. Not at all. Better than he looked in the papers, that was for sure.
"You don't have to-" she began...
"Please- it's no trouble at all. Pocket change," he said. "Excuse me- I'm..."
"I know who you are Dr. Weinstein," Poupette said.
"Please- doctor makes me sound like kind of stiff. It's Andrew-"
"I couldn't..."
"I spilled ketchup on your foot. I think you're entitled, Miss..."
"Major Poupette Primeaux," she said, holding out her hand.
Andrew moved his plate from his table to the one where Poupette was sitting.
"Ah yes, you're giving the report on the field tests on the new body armor Brevlin Industries developed. Of course, my weapons division briefly did some work along similar lines- though ultimately took it in another direction because we found a way to make gear as light and flexible as normal spandex, which allows for more freedom of movement, but could take more damage. It took much more time to degrade beyond the point of uselessness. The problem with it has been that our suits cost twenty five percent more than the Brevlin suits. You know Ol' Uncle Sam," Andrew said smiling, "But let's not talk shop."
She was silent.
DD>"Not enjoying the conference?" he asked.
"It's not that. It's just that I- I lost some buddies recently," she said taking a sip of her drink and nervously put it back down.
"I understand. Sometimes the weapons dealer's argument that the best weapons are ones that never have to be used just isn't that comforting," he said.
"No. No it is not. You take the job knowing you're probably going to lose people- friends, family, lovers- it's the surprise when it actually happens," she said darkly.
"I know. Trust me," he said. "My brother- well- he left us recently."
"I'm sorry- I don't know what to say-" she said.
She stared into Andrew's eyes and caught a cold reflection of herself.
"Don't stare into the abyss... or it will stare into her," she thought.
She finished her drink. She signaled to the waiter to refill it. She quickly downed the third. Then she stood up and walked away in such a way to communicate to Andrew that he should not be discouraged from following.
Lucas walked out of the library. He tucked the copy of 'Slaughterhouse Five' under his arm. He headed to the cafeteria. He didn't know why Ellie's medical tests were taking so long but he thought she might be hungry. He quickly grabbed some sandwiches to take to her. He noticed Juanita sitting in front of a large Sundae in a corner of the room.
"Hey, Lucas- come over here-" she shouted.
"Yo, Juanita, what's up?"
"I hear you're back. I mean really back. I knew it'd happen eventually. It's about time we had some sensible leadership around this place..." she said, smiling coquettishly.
"I thought you liked it here. I mean, I hear you finally came out of your shell. You appear in the tabloids almost as much as I used to--," he said.
"Yeah- at least you occasionally got good coverage," Juanita complained.
"Hey- I'm on the third wave of the cycle. See, first they build you up- then they tear you down- then they let you have a comeback or a series of failed comebacks followed by a reality series chronicling your disparity... which always ends with a comeback as a campy pop culture icon," Lucas explained smiling.
"I liked your new album. My sister hated it. She claims not to know who you are- but she's a huge Polarized Ions fan. When we were kids- we used to have action figure battles with her Polarized Ions figurines and my New Kids on the Block figures," Juanita explained.
"Oh God... I forgot those licensed monstrosities," Lucas said. "Um--Who won?"
"Most of the time, the Ions. Though we stopped when my mom bought a set of Beatles figures and joined in," she said.
"How did that turn out?"
"The Polarized Ions teamed up with The Beatles and killed the New Kids. Then The Beatles turned on you and killed you," she said.
"Ouch. Who did me in?"
"John Lennon."
"What happened to giving peace a chance?"
"He gave it a chance. It just wasn't working out for him."
"At least I wasn't killed by Paul. Getting offed by the guy who sang 'I'm so Sorry, Uncle Albert' would be embarrassing," Lucas said puckishly. "Look, I'd be get these sandwiches to Ellie."
"How are things going there? Are you two back together?" asked Juanita.
"Yeah. Look, I know almost every woman on the team had a thing for me at some point, but why do you ask? I thought you were seeing someone. Or several someones."
"I am. You two are so natural together. I wish I could find someone like that" she said wistfully.
"You will."
Advanced Weapons Research Conference, Los Alamos New Mexico, July 7th 2001
Poupette lay with half of her body on top of Andrew. She was half asleep from exhaustion. The sweat off her body shimmered as light leaked in from the window. Andrew muttered softly beneath her. This past week had been a mistake. She realized that.
"Andy-"
"Yeah-"
"This job you have lined up? What happens if I take it?" Poupette asked.
"When you take it," replied Andrew emphatically, "Maybe not now, but you'll take it."
"What makes you so sure that you're right."
"I always am."
"That's a little arrogant" observed Poupette.
"Maybe a little. But is it really arrogance if it's true?" asked Andrew.
"Probably. But really- what happens?"
He pulled her completely on top of him and kissed her.
"We never get to do this again," he said.
"Probably for the best. I mean- you're one of the most powerful men in the world but you can't even drink," smiled Poupette.
Andrew smiled back. "One for the road?" he asked.
Andrew went back to his office. He sat back in his comfortable leather chair and pushed the 5 button on his speed dial. He waited for several rings. Finally there was a click.
"You have reached Ilsalynn. I'm not available right now. Please, leave a message and I'll get back to you," the answering machine said.
"Ilsa-- It's Andy- have you heard from your soon to be ex-husband lately? My team thinks- get this- that crazy religious cult he's a part of might be connected to the 4th dimensional event in the Bermuda triangle. I know- the mixture of the so called supernatural and science makes us both more than a little uncomfortable. Please call and give me your thoughts. Later Dear," he said.
Ilsalynn put down her book. She wondered just how long she'd been sitting there. She realized she'd been sitting there reading about the Canadian conquest of Michigan and was now more than halfway through the book. Her assistant brought her coffee.
"Uh- Lynn- the producers for Discovery Channel called. They wanted to know when your proposal for the next season will be ready?"
"Oh- sorry- I got a bit distracted. I picked up a book on my last accidental expedition. Fascinating stuff," she said.
"Why can't you use the stuff from your expeditions on your show?" asked the assistant.
"Yeah- and let the whole world know I have powers? No. If people know you have powers they expect you to do one of two things- save the world or destroy it. So after that- who'd hire me?" Islalynn asked rhetorically.
"Andrew Weinstein," said Jeff from the couch.
She grimaced.
"Please. I don't mix business and pleasure," she said haughtily.
"Funny- that's not what they say at Harvard," Jeff said, smiling.
She growled.
"You really don't want your credits this semester . . . Do you, Jeff?"
"Actually- the Hayden Planetarium was my first choice. I only took this one cause I thought you'd be better in the sack than-"
"GET OUT!" shouted Ilsalynn.
March 8th, 2002 - Guantanamo Bay, Cuba
"Mister Amir," Poupette said as she entered the room. She carried a copy of the Koran in her hands. "I think you know what I'm here for. You might as well talk."
"First your leader sends a Jew- then a woman-" he said as he spat on the ground. " I will tell you nothing."
"Mister Weinstein isn't a-"
"You think with a name like Weinstein he is not? Stupid Americans-"
"Why did you and your cell bomb that site, Mister Amir?"
He sat silently.
"You think his ancestors stole land from your people and that his weapons defend that land now- is that it?" asked Poupette.
"Fine. Don't talk," she said. "Mind if I smoke?"
She knocked on the door. A Corporal arrived carrying in some tobacco. She opened the book and tore out a page. Amir looked horrified as she rolled the tobacco and lit the page. She took a long drag and blew the smoke out slowly.
"You infidel! How dare you! How dare you!" he cried.
Amir grimaced as he got a better look at the page.
"Nice try. If you had done as your superiors asked - you might have broken me - but I doubt your Harry Potter appears in the Koran."
She pressed a red button on the wall and then walked out. Behind the window Colonel Elliot smiled at her. He nodded with approval.
"What the hell was that?" Poupette asked angrily.
"That was only stage one. He himself admitted it. You almost broke him," Elliot said as he handed her a box full of rusted tools.
"What's this for?" exclaimed Poupette.
"Be creative."
"All right- but after this I'm taking that attache job Weinstein offered," she said.
Ellie lay on the bed reading a magazine. Angelica walked in.
"Ellie- I just heard the good news. Did you tell Lucas yet?" asked Angelica excitedly.
"No."
"Look- I just finished those tests Andy ordered. I just thought you should know that little power surge caused no harm to you or the baby. I'd recommend getting injected with a nanopower inhibitor . . . I can set that up anytime you want. It'll make sure it doesn't happen again- you know, for your own safety," Angelica explained.
"My own safety?" asked Ellie.
"Didn't Andy tell you? There have only been four known cases where a genetic keystone exhibited pseudo-super powers during pregnancy," Angelica said. "One of which ended in a miscarriage and the mother died in childbirth in two others."
Ellie stared at Angelica in shock.
Next: Quantum Physics Lullaby
Characters created by Jesse N. Wiley and various authors
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