The Last Bender, Chapter 45

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

          Around the time I’d grown accustomed to the G force he hit the brakes and all the pent up sweat leapt off me onto the windscreen. “C’mon,” he said to his feet. If I had to guess I’d put him in his mid forties, moderate to heavy smoker and drinker. Some people are just born that way. He had a habit of arguing with himself under his breath, so that his voice was barely audible, and I couldn’t be sure if he’d said anything. David’s periodic loss of concentration, or rather, the periodic shift in his concentration from an outer, to an inner, world caused problems with his driving. I felt myself attempting to steer by mental power alone, wresting the wheel from his clenched fingers, or forcing his head and eyes up and away from his shoes, onto the looming guard rail. We were in the parking lot of a largish shopping center. Cars stretched horizon to horizon. Helen followed us in, three cars back. She was very good, and he was an easy tail.

          The anchor was a Cut the Rug outfit. Next to that was Rubber Backs and next to that Tack to Tack and next to that their discount store called U-Cut the Rug. Then there was a Baloney’s Ice Creams of the World featuring twelve international flavors, from Parmesan to durian. These were all Island chains. You don’t see those in town except for on late night TV. He said, “See that Cut the Rug van? Get in.”

          I climbed in and he slammed the door. The inside was banged up. It smelled bad, like he’d been hauling garbage. He started the van up. The floor shook and made my teeth rattle. He adjusted the radio as we drove out of the parking lot, tuning in a voice. The voice seemed to be talking to me. It was highly distorted like a subway announcement, lacking only a train roaring in the background.

          “ooooooh, rrrr….shprk-arg…Mr. Ah Bartell, hello.”

          “Can you hear me?” he asked.

          “Is that you?”

          “RyesR, it is,” said the radio. He grinned.

          “Is this some sort of a fucking game with you?”

          “rrrAh No sir, uh uh it is not ssssome sort of a fucking shpraaak.”

          “Oh cut the crap. Where are we headed?” He wouldn’t answer. We drove farther and farther out on the Island. He stopped for gas. The fumes near knocked me out. I asked him for a soda and a box of Raven 25s. While he was in the store, Helen pulled up to the window, winked and left. When we exited the parking lot she was three cars back.

          We drove past derelict farms and forlorn industrial parks with peeling flames of paint and weather-eaten loading docks. “You got some sister there,” I said.

          “What about her?”

          “Well, you’re very different, that’s all.”

          He squirmed around and checked the speedometer. I wished for once he’d check it and change his speed. “She thinks she needs to take care of me.”

          “But you don’t think so.”

          He looked at his hands. Up…up….”She’s my sister. And we’re friends.”

          “I guess family is who you can trust.”

          “That’s right,” he agreed, looking at the road again and becoming adamant. “There aren’t many you can.”

          “It’s true that people are generally untrustworthy.”

          “You don’t know the half of it, Jack. Can I call you that?”   He looked at me nervously.

          “Sure, just…don’t look at me when you drive.”

          “I’ve never had an accident. Not once. Do you know whom you’re dealing with here, Jack? Let’s concentrate on St. Claude. Do you know about the drug, Botrytis?”

          “I think I have some idea.”

          “Then you know St. Claude is totally crazy. He wants to conquer the world.”

          “That is a little nutty, David.”

          “See? Even you think so and you know all about the drug. But if you took the drug, things might look different.”

          “In what way?”  

          He smiled and reached to turn on the radio. “I made a tape that I’m broadcasting to us now if you want to listen.”

          “I’d rather have it straight from you.”

          He looked very serious. “I made the tape because this is easier to say when I’m alone.”

          “Why?”

          “I don’t want to be sad in public.”

          I checked the side view mirror. Helen was back far enough to disappear behind hills and turns. “This is pretty private now.”

          He mumbled.

          “He has my partner, David.”

          “I have to make you understand how dangerous he is. We now know that billions of years ago two different one-celled creatures emerged on earth. One was a body creature; it had mass but no perception. The other we call mind–it could perceive but had no mass. In other words, one that occupies space but can’t move and one that moves in time but occupies no space. The creatures co-evolved until one day, by means of this drug, some of us made the leap; it allowed us to discover we no longer required the body. People who take the drug are evolved beyond those that don’t. Botrytis initiates the next mutation. This carries a lot of responsibility, I think you will admit. But St. Claude let it go to his head. He has perverted the theory. He believes that mind spores fell from space and that they were captured and enslaved by the body cells of earth. The mind spores developed into the brain and central nervous system, as well as the main sense organs. His idea is to liberate them from their prison of flesh. He does it by detaching the head and spine and preserving them in a special solution of seawater and light.

          “If we don’t stop him he’ll poison the world with Botrytis. Look at what’s already happened. And he doesn’t see his error. I tried to show him that the body cells were conscious all along. That the mind cells actually colonized them.”   There were tears in his eyes. “The big lie won’t work.”

          “So what’s your plan?”

          “I’ve raised a small army. They’re going to help us take St. Claude and put an end to it. But I need you to train them. You have experience in the field.”

          “Is that what the pamphlets were for?”

          He laughed. “People will believe anything.”

          “What about Evalyn St. Claude?”

          He grumbled, “She’s very disagreeable!”

          “And very good looking.”

          “What do you mean by that? Of course she’s good looking. She’s rich. If at any time she were not good looking, by now she would be.”

          I decided to hit from the other side. “Mind if I smoke?”   I asked.

          “Just blow it out the window. These damn roads are so slow.”

          “Take your time, relax. Now who are these troops I’m to train?”

          “You want numbers? It’s significant that there are any at all.”

          “Are they armed?”

          “Some.”

          “How long does my partner have?”

          “You mean before he moves up?”

          “Is that what you call it?”

          He shook his head. “That’s what they call it. How long has he been with them?”

          “If they haven’t killed him, less than a day.”

          He laughed. “You have nothing to worry about. St. Claude wouldn’t kill anyone. And your partner isn’t even addicted yet. First he addicts you. Then you do the work, the lab work. It’s a totally selfless environment. We designed incredible things. We made a monad out of cloned Hydra parts. Thinking biological circuits, reactive nerve nets, optical memory sensors. But, after a while it’s time to move on. That’s what he tells you. And they do it. They have the ceremony and that’s it.”

          “What’s that, the murder ceremony?”

          “I told you, it’s not like that. He doesn’t kill you, he frees you. He won’t free your friend till your friend wants to be free.”

          “Does anybody ever not want to be free?”

          “Yeah, me. I went back to the body. I wanted to live.” 

          I looked out the window.  We were far out on the Island. Between the ocean and us lay wooded hills and fields.  

          “So David, where are we going?”     

          He sighed and made faces. “Up ahead a few miles is a dirt road. We’ll drive up there and I’ll show you.” A bumpy dirt road cut across a meadow and up a hill. On either side was a stunted wood of scrub oak and pine covered in grape vines and poison ivy. Helen was no longer behind us. After a while we came to a clearing where he stopped. We got out and went to the edge of the clearing. A cool wind came in off the water smelling briny and sweet, like pampas grass. There was a distant booming of surf. Below us was a valley. There was a small cottage of weathered wood and a driveway off another dirt road. The other side of the valley was covered in scrub pine leading to sand dunes. He handed me a pair of field glasses.

          “What do you see?” he asked.

          “Everything I see without them, only bigger.”

          “Take a closer look.”

          “A cottage, a big lawn and a field. A driveway.”

          “You don’t see a large geodesic dome in that field?”

          I looked around through the glasses and saw no such thing. “No.”

          “That house is their beach cottage.”

          I lowered the glasses and glared at him. “Look. I’ve played along so far but don’t take me for a guy who might believe St. Claude’s holed up in his summerhouse. That was the first place we checked.”

          Every syllable made him wince. “Let me show you something.”   He took the binoculars and adjusted them for a while. “Now look through them. You see that stump down there, about ten yards behind the house? Notch it on the bottom of the circle you see.”

          I found the stump and sat the circle on top. At first all I saw was green. But the green slowly disintegrated into a dull grey. The grey was textured and in the textures I saw little flashes of muted color. Then the colors aligned into crystalline patterns that shifted constantly. It was a geodesic dome shining like a giant opal.