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2009 Separate the Sorrow
“Who can take tomorrow,
Dip it in a dream?
Separate the sorrow and collect up all the cream…”
--Leslie Bricusse & Anthony Newley, “The Candy Man”
“That fickle, fickle, fickle witch!” Rarely did Mason Eckhart raise his voice. Dr Rebecca Steyn could not recall him ever raising his voice within the walls of the quarters they shared. He reserved displays of anger for deserving people and events, so she knew his distress was not trivial.
“Anyone I know?” she asked, managing a mocking smile that served its purpose of visibly calming him.
“I believe you were spared exposure. Showing you this…is so embarrassing. So shameful. But you must see it.” Mason removed a half-sized disk from a plastic case and placed it in the DVD player tray.
“No wonder you’re upset! You got a disk from Adam!” Communications from Adam almost always precipitated hours or even days of distress for Mason.
“How do you know?” Mason was puzzled. “I haven’t told anyone about receiving this.”
“Who else uses those chopped-down disks? Do you know anyone else? I don’t. I see them in stores, but I never see anyone buying them. Adam must have them by the hundreds. I’m not sure I can recall him using anything else.”
“That’s true. In this case, the content is more disturbing than the source. And was a great shock to me. Had I known, I would have told you.” He came and sat down next to Rebecca, and started the disk by remote.
Adam’s smirky face filled the screen.
“He looks terrible, Mason.”
“And the message is worse. Listen.”
“Hi, Mason. For the last few months, following Danielle Hartman’s untimely death choking on a pickled mushroom…”
“Mason, stop that right there.”
He did.
“Could anyone choke to death on a pickled mushroom, Mason? Or is Adam on drugs?” Rebecca wasn’t playing. Adam’s story sounded outrageous and unlikely.
“If anyone could croak that way, Danielle could manage it.” He re-started the disk.
“…Danielle’s daughter and yours have been living with Brennan and me. Unfortunately, Catherine got herself arrested during a failed mission with Brennan after he had to leave her behind, and now, Mason, she is your problem. I’m attaching all appropriate data to convince you of her pedigree. If you replicate the work, your results will match my own. Initially, I believed Catherine was my daughter, but after Danielle told me she wasn’t, I had myself convinced she was Breedlove’s progeny. Imagine my surprise at the results!” Adam laughed. The message ended.
“I missed a chapter somewhere, Mason. The name of Danielle Hartman still reverberates through Genomex, even among the new staff. Her reputation was not of the best.”
“Uh, no.”
“Keep going. You’ll feel better once you’re through.”
“I was in the latter stages of my divorce from Jackie. Breedlove insisted I follow Danielle around when she ventured off site, just to be certain the stealth program was not compromised or ended because of Danielle’s excesses. Ethanol and some mutant talents don’t mix. I was supposed to keep her from getting into any trouble, mostly in the shape of Adam, who had recently dumped Jackie and taken up with Danielle.”
“This is getting incestuous,” she said.
“And tasteless. I know.”
“Good. Maintaining perspective is good.”
“Danielle would drink herself into oblivion and I would all but carry her back to her Genomex quarters. I was drinking too much in those days as well. Much too much. One night I didn’t get away from her fast enough.”
“That is an interesting way to put things. I don’t think I’ve ever heard quite that explanation. I cannot imagine you drinking to excess. Who seduced whom?”
Mason sighed. “Rebecca, I woke up there hours later and assumed we’d had sex, but I don’t recall any of it, which is a mercy. Catherine’s existence confirms what I presumed.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Such sleaziness, and from you! I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. So out of character.” She looked at him carefully for a moment. “I can’t read your mind, Mason, but I can tell you’re close to panic.” Gently, she caressed the side of his face, and stroked the crazy white hair. “Is there more?”
“No, thank God.”
“Ah, good. Why the anxiety?”
“I was fearful you might leave me.”
“Over something you did before you even knew I existed? No. When I left my Gelding Jeffrey, people thought I was a loon for giving up such a paragon of charm, but they didn’t have to live with him. I swore I would never ‘settle’ again. I have not. I am not ‘settling’ now. I’m not perfect, but I’m not fickle, either.”
“No.”
“I’m not sure whether to share the stories I hear with you or not. There are people on site convinced our marriage is a sham, a fraud. I conduct myself in the lab and at meetings as I always have, and the things I overhear…people have the oddest imaginations. I believe only Dr Varady, Emma, and Jesse know the simple truth, which isn’t as entertaining as the speculations. Jerry Springer and his imitators have perverted peoples imaginations.”
“No one else needs to know.”
“Of course they don’t. And you’ve elevated…manipulation by looks and persona to high levels of craft and skill. We have to think about handling Catherine, however.” Rebecca shrugged. “We cannot change our past selves to suit our present lives. We were who we were. That’s what Adam tries to do, remake his own history to edit out the parts he no longer has a use for, or would prefer to obliterate.”
“Very true. I don’t think Adam recalls the truth anymore himself after repeating the lies so often.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Call in every favor I’m owed on the west coast to have Catherine released into my custody, and bring her here. I’ll have to stretch the GSA’s definition as a law enforcement agency to the limits, but I think it can be done.”
“Mason, don’t worry. I am prepared to accept Catherine and love her, just because she is yours, the same way I love Grey and Deirdre and Michelle. However, a note of caution: your intentions sound noble, fair, and just, but the girl’s an unknown. She’s old enough to be beyond salvaging. She could show up with twenty earrings in each ear, pierced nipples, tattoos you don’t want to think about, her mother’s appetite for ethanol, and Brennan Mulwray’s twins due in six months.”
“O dear God.” Mason slumped forward, and removed his glasses. “I’d kill Mulwray.”
“I would help you.” Rebecca wasn’t smiling. “Mulwray and I have a history, recall: he’s on my list. He could have killed me flinging me into that wall.”
“She could not really be that much of a lost soul, could she?”
“Rebecca shrugged. “All of that can’t be true, but be realistic. Be ready for anything. Don’t get carried away with pleasant fantasies of who she might be, because no matter how she’s been raised, I doubt if she’s received the careful attention of the others. You have not had any influence upon her. You don’t need to be hurt again. She’s probably angry as Hell about being left alone in the world, abandoned by Mulwray during one of Adam’s ‘missions’, then being arrested and implanted with a governor.”
“You’re probably correct.”
“Catherine did not choose the manner in which she was begotten. We can hope Danielle cared enough about her not to tell. She will not hear it from me. You would not tell her, would you?”
“Never. No one deserves sad truth like that. If she ever presses me, I’ll lie.”
“I could fly out with her GSA escort and try to talk to her on the flight back. She could vent anger on me and dull whatever wrath she feels before meeting you.”
“You are wasted in the lab, Rebecca. You have the mind for my business.”
“Thank you. I think. Even if Catherine claws my eyes out verbally…it could be better in the long term if she claws out mine initially, and not yours. I can kiss and make up later with her with greater ease than a long-lost father.”
“That’s an exceedingly kind thing to do for me. For Catherine, too.”
Adam insisted there weren’t any bones broken in my foot, but I wondered about that. I could walk, but just barely, ever since the last “mission” into the International Scientific warehouse when Brennan and I had to drop twelve feet onto uneven concrete to stay ahead of the private security patrol.
Brennan, ever-lucky, ever smiled upon by chance and fate, landed perfectly, but I did not and it was all I could do to manage to scramble out of there without being caught.
No matter what Adam said, I stayed off the foot as much as I could manage. Slowly, the pain faded unless I tried to do too much.
Adam began dropping hints that the time had come for another visit to the Midnight Market at International Scientific. When I failed to volunteer for the “mission” he just told me that Brennan and I had to go back.
“Catherine, just to be extra safe this time, I’m going to place this device in your head so I can watch the outside and warn you without a sound.” He smiled his Fatherly, Reassuring smile, but I wasn’t quite buying. Not yet.
Adam held the device in his hand, swimming in a container of antimicrobials which kept it sterile but would not affect the electronics.
“What is that?” I asked.
“A little something I’ve been working on for over a year. We’ll have direct, instant communication. That sounds like a good thing, doesn’t it?”
I nodded in agreement. As much as I didn’t like the idea of something in my head, the device did sound useful and practical. If I couldn’t trust Adam, who could I trust?
Planting the device was painless and quick. I all but forgot I was wearing it until the night Brennan and I slipped back inside International Scientific while Adam watched outside from within the Double Helix. Adam kept reassuring me that he saw nothing outside and that was true, he didn’t. What drew private security and the police to the building was one of us tripping an alarm.
I’m still not sure which one of us set off that alarm, but it doesn’t matter anymore anyway.
Brennan set off running for the closest way out, half-dragging me though the warehouse. And there we were looking at that same insane twelve-foot drop where I hurt myself before.
Adam had fed me a strong painkiller hours before, but now it was wearing off. My foot hurt again.
“I can’t do this, Brennan. Can we go back inside and find another way out?”
“Suit yourself,” Brennan said, and off he went, jumping into the darkness. For leaving me behind, he deserved to break both legs, but as always, his luck held. I heard him hit the concrete and take off running. Loyalty among thieves, and all that…Brennan was loyal only to himself. Adam kept him stuffed full of Moon Pies and other junk food delights, so he hung around Adam as long as Adam kept him one step ahead of the cops.
Interior building lights came on behind me, and I knew my retreat was blocked.
I was in too much pain to cast a convincing stealth aura, and the commercial security guys spotted me on top of the single-story roof, and they called the real police. I was too scared of not being able to clamber back over the rooftop to the window Brennan and I had used to escape from the building, so the real police called the real fire department, and they dragged me down from the roof like a stranded cat. Stupidly, I still had stuff from the warehouse in my pockets and my wallet containing lots of identification and my old address with Mom.
I let them pack me up and take me to the district station and waste a couple hours trying to call Mom before admitting she was dead and that I had left that address months before. By this time, my name and hers had been run through several computer databases and they knew I was a Genomex mutant of some kind. They weren’t quite sure what a Genomex mutant was, but the information they found scared them. There were all kinds of special instructions and precautions for safely dealing with mutants. I knew this because the cops were reading the ‘good parts’ out loud to one another.
They locked me in a windowless room and the next time the door opened, it admitted some huge guys who had to be Genetic Security wielding neck restraints which they used to pin me against the far wall until one of them could implant me with a subdermal governor.
The governor hurt like hell, not unlike having a “headache” in your upper spinal chord. As they dragged me from the windowless room, I noticed one of these slugs wore a governor himself, the one who had done the implanting. I spit on him for that. Mutants who turn against their own are among the lowest forms of life, Adam always said.
Ordinary police were in no way prepared to deal with criminal mutants, which, with a shock, I realized I was. I was being transferred to the GSA, the thing most feared by free mutants.
“My left foot is damaged. I might have broken bones.”
“That’s too bad, kid.”
Not that I was looking for sympathy, I just could not walk well.
And for them, that was no problem. They were big, well fed, and well-exercised. Two of them carried me out of the district station and into a black SUV as easily as I might heft a ten pound sack of potatoes. Off we went, and as easily as they chucked me into the SUV, they carried me into the GSA facility and deposited me into a holding place.
I cannot properly call it a cell, since it was more like a stripped down dorm room. I hobbled to the sink and washed my face.
Well, what would Mom think if she could see me now, locked up by the GSA with a governor plugged deep into my neurons, after all those years we had managed to avoid drawing the attention of the GSA and Mason Eckhart?
If Mom were still alive, she’d probably tell me I was a fool. And sloppy. And she would be right.
But she was gone, and it was just me now. The only person in the world I could think to turn to when Mom died was Adam. He did not hesitate to take me in, and I quickly learned why. When he came to collect me in the Double Helix, he didn’t fly back to Sanctuary because he had long since abandoned it. Only Brennan was still with him. Adam needed to rebuild Mutant X, and I was part of that plan.
Emma and Jesse had long since sold out to Eckhart. I was shocked and confused by that. Jesse came from money. How could he be bought? Emma never seemed much impressed by material goodies. How had Eckhart gotten to her? Shalimar was gone, too, but Adam was vague about her departure. She had had some physical problems, and maybe couldn’t be part of the team any longer. Maybe Shalimar had simply retired and Adam did not want to embarrass her by saying she could no longer keep up with the physical demands of Mutant X.
Adam and Brennan were living out of the Double Helix. It was tight, but they made room for me. They needed me, and my stealth talent.
For a couple of years now, I knew Adam wasn’t my father, but I still wished he was, and fantasized that somehow he really was my father after all. Maybe my mother had made a mistake. She was never too good with numbers. All the time I was growing up, Mom told me how great Adam was, how smart, how sophisticated, how he knew everything. She had always told me that she and my father had loved each other very much but hadn’t been together long, but ever since meeting Adam, every time I pressed Mom to tell me my father’s name she’d tell me I’d be hurt and so would other people if she told. I could not imagine what that meant. Now that Mom was gone, I thought I’d never find out, and that I should ‘adopt’ Adam as my father of choice.
Adam kept pulling a lot of blood out of me, and testing it in the Double Helix lab. So far I showed no hint of the degeneration that nearly killed Mom. Adam kept checking my blood anyway, looking for any sign of disease.
I started working with Brennan. I had remembered him as very cool, but now he just did not seem very smart. Seeing him with a Little Debbie hanging out of his mouth most of the time was definitely not cool, especially since Brennan was getting chunkier by the month. He had little to say to me except lament the loss of his fleet of vintage Camaros.
Adam sent us on a lot of “missions” which usually puzzled me. Adam had money. Why he sent us to steal plastic transfer pipettes when he could order them by the case was perplexing, but as smart as he was, I figured Adam must have some good reason for what he was doing.
Face clean, I took off my shoes and stretched out on the narrow but spotlessly clean and fresh GSA bed. I closed my eyes, and fantasized about Brennan frying a hole in the wall and breaking me out of here, making a getaway in the Double Helix with frustrated GSA trailing behind, hopelessly outrun.
It was a nice daydream. Reality turned bizarre when the guy I recognized as the head GSA entered my ‘pen’ –after knocking on the door!—and sat down on the single chair. He began to make nice, which wasn’t so bad since he was cute and had a big smile. I was highly suspicious, of course, but at least he did a good job of looking sincere. And he did have great blue eyes.
“I want to apologize for the way my staff treated you. They knew only that you were a potentially dangerous Genomex mutant, so they took no chances of getting hurt—or getting you hurt. Had we known of your connections, we would have been much, much gentler.” An even bigger smile followed this speech and lingered too long.
My connections? I didn’t have any connections.
“I don’t know how your father found out you were here, but he knows and is sending a plane for you.”
Adam. It must be Adam, scheming and posing as someone powerful. Adam knows how to get governors off the spinal chords of mutants. It’ll be gone in a few hours.
I tried my best to remain cool, and not look too thrilled, to appear as if I had expected this development all along.
“My father?” I asked. I wondered what nom de guerre Adam was using. Probably something displaying his wonderful wit and humor.
“The boss of the entire GSA. Mason Eckhart.”
He was not joking. He turned serious and grim just speaking Eckhart’s name.
“I see he has the same effect on you that he has on the rest of us. My sympathies, kid. I don’t blame you for running away from him.”
No wonder Mom took this horrible secret to her grave. How was it even possible? Rape? Drugs? A combination of both? Mason Eckhart was the Great Bogeyman of mutant nightmares. I’d heard horror stories about him all of my life, but during the time with Adam and Brennan, they’d told me even more bizarre tales about “Mr Creepy”.
And I’m the Daughter of Mr Creepy? That sounds like the title of a lousy horror movie. This cannot be true. Someone has a cruel sense of what is funny.
Mason Eckhart’s reputation for cold, calculating control of himself and other people described a man hardly human. Adam said Eckhart was completely encased in a layer of biopolymer to protect him from microorganisms, and over that, he wore a pair of thin leather gloves, in black, of course, further protection against punctures, paper cuts, or other minor injuries which could easily kill Eckhart with his non-functional immune system.
Adam said that since 1991 Eckhart never wore anything except black pinstripe suits. Adam and Brennan both swore that he wore a long-haired white wig! I could not imagine it. There weren’t any photos in existence of him, so I had to believe them, although I was dubious.
Mom, how the Hell did I happen?
“What’s Eckhart really like?” he asked.
“You are asking me? I have never met him.”
“Well, you’ll never forget him. The suits, the wigs, the gloves—I’ve seen him and it’s all true. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“Yeah.”
I tried to take a nap and forget the revelation of pedigree, but I was wide awake. Mom, if there is an afterlife, I have a lot of questions for you.
That evening, someone brought me a sandwich. I had to sleep in my clothes, and I wasn’t happy about that.
The next morning, yet another GS Agent knocked on my door, then entered to be certain I was awake. I had been awake for some time, drifting forth and back between sleep and wakefulness, not really believing it when I would wake and once more find myself in a locked room, captive of the GSA, possibly cut off from Adam forever.
Adam was the last link I had to my old life with Mom.
My life felt like it was spinning completely out of control. Until Mom died, I had been a good kid—nothing spectacular in the way of grade, but I hadn’t given Mom anything extra to worry about. I didn’t do drugs and the few friends I had were other good kids. With my mother’s health problems and the secretive way we lived so we wouldn’t be tracked down as Genomex mutants, she didn’t need anything more to worry over.
I wondered how I was going to travel. Would they make me wear an ugly orange jumpsuit and put shackles on my legs?
Then I had a really scary thought. Maybe I wasn’t just cut off from my old life. Maybe my life was simply over. All Genomex mutants knew about stasis pods and we all knew about Eckhart’s blind hatred of mutants. Not only must he hate me, but I must also be a source of embarrassment to him. Was that why I was being hurried back to Genomex, to be safely stashed in a stasis pod where I wouldn’t be a source of ridicule, maybe even a threat to his career?
All of that made sense. I knew he was ruthless. If I was any kind of liability to Eckhart, being his daughter would not stop him from doing whatever he believed was required to protect himself and assure that all balances tipped in his favor. We all knew how Mr Creepy was.
Perhaps Adam could still save me, wrest me away from these grim GSA types, maybe just outside the GSA building or even at the airport with lots of people around and lots of distractions for my keepers.
If Adam didn’t rescue me…I didn’t want to think about that too hard. The conclusions I had reached were disturbing.
There was another knock at the door, and this time, a different agent entered.
“Good morning, Catherine. My name is Robert Gutierrez, and I’m head of the team taking you to the airport. It’s time to go.”
I didn’t really mind him calling me ‘Catherine’ instead of ‘Ms Hartman’. Gutierrez was young and cute, and unlike the others, must not have completed his official GSA training course in The Smile: The Big Phony Smile and Forgetting How to Smile (these characters seemed to have no middle ground) because he seemed pleasant and genuine.
I stretched and did my best imitation of being cool, casual, and unrattled. I doubt if I fooled Gutierrez, but I refused to be obviously frightened or anxious. I got out of bed and stood up. I felt sticky from sleeping in my clothes.
“Don’t I get an orange jumpsuit?”
Gutierrez shook his head. “We don’t do that.”
“What about shackles?”
He turned suddenly serious and removed a small device from a pocket. “Do you know what this is?”
“No.”
“This is the remote control for your subdermal governor. With it, I could induce blinding pain, which as a restraint method is much more effective than shackles.”
“Ever activated one?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ve had violent or insane mutants in my keeping. Sometimes there just isn’t any other way. Catherine, I read your file this morning. I don’t know what you were doing robbing that warehouse, but you seem like a decent kid. Please don’t do anything that would make me consider using this. Ready to go?”
I nodded. What did I need to do to prepare? I had never even emptied my pockets. I could just walk out the door.
Two more agents waited outside, more of the well-fed, well-exercised guys who must have been selected in case I needed to be carried somewhere. I went along willingly.
Outside, the sky was overcast and dark, much like my mood. One of the generic black SUVs favored by the GSA was parked just outside the front door.
I looked around for any sign of Adam or Brennan, and saw none.
Gutierrez and I got into the back seat of the SUV, with the Big Guys sitting up front.
Then I realized I was hungry. That sandwich had been a long time ago.
Within minutes, I knew we weren’t going to the airport, but heading away from it. I became suspicious.
Robert Gutierrez, you of the pleasant smile and supposed desire not to hurt me, are you in the process of making me ‘disappear’? Is this how Eckhart deals with his embarrassments?
“Hey, where are we going? I thought we were going to the airport?”
“We are. We’re not going to the one the airlines use, but to Montgomery Field. General aviation. The runways are long enough for the GSA Citation, but we won’t have to deal with traffic or security. Getting in and out is quicker and much easier on everyone.”
Well, that sounded reasonable, but how was Adam ever going to find me now?
The GSA jet was already on the ground by the time we got there. Three people were waiting for us, the two inevitable GSA (like Gutierrez and the two other guys with me, who hadn’t bothered to introduce themselves and who had not said a word, they all dressed so much alike I was beginning to think the entire organization shopped out of the same Mr Creepy-mandated catalogue.) and a woman in a tailored but feminine navy blue suit. She did not have the GSA ‘look’, which in its female incarnation tended towards the severe, mannish, and unflattering. Nevertheless, clearly she was in charge; the two GSA clone-drones deferred to her.
If she wasn’t GSA, what the heck was she?
She wasn’t young, but she was still attractive, in an understated, classy way not much seen in a society gone relentlessly casual. She had long hair bound up on the back of her head with a pair of black lacquer hairsticks. She wore 2” navy pumps of the simplest design and soft kidskin.
The overall effect approached elegance in its taste and simplicity. I was beginning to feel like a slovenly waif compared to this curious woman when I noticed that her jacket concealed a gun. Curiouser and curiouser. What the heck was she?
Gutierrez stepped forward to greet her. “Robert Gutierrez, GSA.”
The woman extended her right hand to Gutierrez in the natural manner of women who have spent their adult lives in the world of business, and who can mimic male rituals without flaw.
“Dr Rebecca Steyn, Genomex. Good morning.”
The name meant nothing to me, but the hitherto unspeaking agent now grasping my left arm whispered the Ukrainian phrase for “Mother of God”, which I recognized from one of my mother’s boyfriends.
She looked away from Gutierrez long enough to quickly evaluate me. That quick inspection made me squirm inside.
“Doesn’t she have any luggage?” she asked.
Well, I always pack carefully for these burglaries with Brennan, but this time I don’t know what got into me; such a lapse…
“No, ma’am, the police captured her yesterday morning.”
“I fully understand those circumstances, but wasn’t she issued a toothbrush, toothpaste, changes of underwear, and other personal items? I was standing next to Mason when he authorized spending for these items when he talked to your boss.”
‘Mason’? The human-looking woman called Mr Creepy ‘Mason’? Who the heck is she?
“I’m afraid that directive never reached me.” He sounded genuinely sorry.
“She has had breakfast, hasn’t she?”
“I honestly don’t know.” He turned to me. “Catherine, did anyone bring you breakfast?”
I shook my head. These people were inept.
“Between the implant in her neck, her empty stomach, and wearing the same clothes all this time, she must be in a wonderful state of mind.”
“She hasn’t complained, Dr Steyn.”
She made eye contact with me. I glared at her.
Of course I’m livid about being hungry, kept in the same clothes and not being handed a toothbrush. I’ll need to take a scraper to my hide before I feel clean again. But I wasn’t going to say anything to these GSA clone-guys and let them know I was miserable. And who are you to ask or care about me?
Most people find my Nasty Glare unnerving, but her expression…softened, just short of a smile. Now I knew she was bizarre. Maybe she was the Chief Torturer.
All that exterior polish had to hide something dark, didn’t it? The bad guys on the tube always wore nice suits, the good guys were always…a little on the casual irregular side.
“What happened to her left foot? I notice she’s not putting much weight on it.”
“Old injury, she says.”
“Has she seen a doctor?”
“She didn’t ask for one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not that kind of doctor, so I can’t be of any help to her.”
She then turned from Gutierrez and walked right up to me. That’s when I got my first good look at her incredible blue eyes. I felt like she was looking right through me. Maybe her job was Chief Interrogator. This was no pampered, hothouse woman, but a fierce, independent soul afraid of very little. She wasn’t at all put off by my tough-kid act.
“Catherine Hartman?” The way she said it wasn’t a statement, but a question. I could not help but answer.
“Yeah.”
Just little old me. Stealth mutant, indifferent student, criminal, and best of all, Daughter of Mr Creepy.
“I am Dr Rebecca Steyn. I will be escorting you back to Genomex, where, I assure you, you will have a toothbrush, even if I have to go and buy one for you.”
“What are you, some kind of psychologist?” Psychology would be a good field of expertise for a devilishly clever interrogator or torturer, I thought. That way, she’d know all the things that scare us the most inside. I put all the sarcasm into my voice I could manage. I sounded really whiney. I would be annoyed with me.
“Nothing of the kind. I’m a chemist.” She pulled a small leather-bound notebook from inside her jacket. I realized she carried no purse. “If you could tell me your sizes and color preferences, I can make your transition a lot smoother.”
She seemed sincere enough. She wasn’t trying to “be my friend”, as adults will with children or those they think of as children, believing their youth will make them relative pushovers, easily won over by a toothy smile and a too-familiar manner. And if she was asking about clothes, that implied I wasn’t going to be killed or podded, not immediately, anyway. That was good.
“I can’t pay for anything. I think there’s about seventeen dollars in my wallet and pockets, and that’s including loose change.” I wanted to stir the waters and raise a little hell, but I also was nearly broke. Most of my cash was aboard the Double Helix, at least until Brennan found it. Very inconvenient.
“Mason’s paying for everything. I’m terrible at guessing sizes and I don’t want to get you a color you cannot stand.”
“I don’t want anything from him.” I glared at her as I said it. My glare had no effect on her! Her voice remained calm and even. She was not tempted by my brat bait.
“He wants to do this for you, Ms Hartman.”
“Why now? Where has he been all the rest of the years of my life?”
Where, indeed. I even envied the kids whose parents had split, because they knew who their fathers were and a lot of them saw them on weekends or spent summers with them. For all but the last few hours of my life, I didn’t even know my father’s name or much of anything about him. I resented all those empty years and now I resented who he actually was. Never finding out might just have been better than learning he was someone I actively hated my whole life.
“That’s a perfectly fair question, Catherine. I’m not going to patronize you with a syrupy ‘I know how you feel’, because I don’t; I can’t, but I can tell you’re deeply hurt. There is an answer to your question, but before I tell you, can you promise to step back emotionally and listen, and not to just strike out blindly because you’re in pain?”
“Why should I?”
“One, understanding is in your best interest, and two, I suspect you are intelligent enough not to allow yourself to be ruled by emotions, especially the negative ones.”
She was being straight with me. I was sure of it. I had never known anyone like this elegant, tough, feminine woman, who was also packing, and who referred to Mr Creepy as “Mason”.
“I will listen.”
“Mason Eckhart did not know you existed until about two years ago. At that time, he considered the possibility you were his daughter, but circumstances were such that he could not be certain.”
She was being very kind and very gentle with my mother’s memory. I knew very well what my mother was like with men. Yeah, a guy would have to wonder.
“He gave your mother two opportunities to tell him if you were his, but she followed up on neither opening. He concluded someone else must have fathered you. What more could he possibly have done?”
“I guess nothing. How did he find out the truth? When the GSA branch office called?”
“No. They had no way of making such a connection. No…he found out by means of Adam sending him a video disk by overnight air telling him the truth. I’ve viewed the video. Adam’s message is brief, blunt, and unambiguous.”
“Adam knew?” Adam knew and did not tell me? What was that about? How could he know? When did he know?
“Adam left Genomex with DNA data on everyone who had worked for the company from the beginning until he departed. That was –and is—offered to employees as a benefit which could later be of use in identification. Spouses and children are eligible as well. The database is huge and detailed. Matching you to your mother and Mason would have been straightforward and obvious. This is technology that has existed for some time. Now, as to when Adam knew, I have no way of knowing, and I won’t guess.”
I was not happy. I had the gut feeling Adam had known for some time. He was aware of my frustration, and to be honest, pain, over not knowing so much as a name. Why had he not told me? And why had he told Eckhart? Something was very wrong.
“Can I see this message?”
“I don’t have a copy with me, but I cannot think of any objections Mason would have to your seeing it.”
“Why do you think Adam told Eckhart about me?”
“My opinion is that Adam sought to shame Mason. I am well aware of Mason’s reputation. What you do not know, but which Adam and I both know well, is that Mason is a formal, old-fashioned man who can still be shamed, unlike the current fashion for amoral shamelessness.”
Old-fashioned? Shame?
She glanced at her watch. “Mason has known you are his daughter for less than twenty-six hours. He called in favors to have you released into his keeping. Nothing on earth compelled him to do this except his own conscience.”
“I didn’t think he had one of those.” I tried my best to be unpleasant. I succeeded.
“You have a lot to learn. He is personally paying for the use of the Citation, not creating a fiction about ‘company business’. He could have had you shipped across country in one of the scheduled van trips, but he chose to do this.”
“I’m confused.”
“The situation is difficult. Now, if you could please give me some sizes and color preferences? If you don’t, I’ll guess, and as I said, I’m not good at that.” She tried to smile.
Part of me wanted to continue arguing with this woman, but I realized she was determined and resolute with particular goals and purposes in mind. She wasn’t about to be distracted by my emotions or hers.
Her emotions? What part did she have in all of this?
I gave her a list of sizes and color choices. When she thought she had enough information, she extracted a compact cell phone from her jacket (what else did she hide in there?).
“Emma, it’s Rebecca. Could you tell Mason we’re about to turn around and come back? I have a great favor to ask of you. Catherine doesn’t have anything of her own. She needs everything, from a toothbrush to clothes. I have sizes here as well. Mason will reimburse you any way you wish. If you could get this list, and leave the things in my office, she’ll have something clean to wear…otherwise, she’ll have to sleep in one of my old t-shirts. Oh, thank you, Emma. When in doubt, use your own judgment. I probably won’t see you until tomorrow. Bye.”
“Were you talking to Emma deLauro?”
“Yes.” She looked towards the young, uniformed woman who had just emerged from the plane. Is it time to board, Bonnie?”
“Yes, indeed, Rebecca. We are ready.”
Gutierrez handed Dr Steyn the remote control for my governor, then turned to me. “Good luck, Catherine.”
“Thanks.”
The interior of the cabin was surprisingly comfortable, if cramped. The seats were covered in black leather, and as I discovered as I sank into one of them, very comfortable.
I settled into my seat and buckled in, with this Rebecca person next to me. There wasn’t enough room for a real aisle. This close, I caught a whiff of the lavender she was wearing.
“I’m sorry about breakfast, Catherine.” She reached down for a bag and handed it to me. “These bagels were fresh this morning. I wish I had something more substantial to offer you, but this is what I have.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want them.”
“Take the bag in case you change your mind.” She was trying to be nice. Or was she? Perhaps the bagels were laced with some kind of mind-controlling drug.
I took the bag and set it beside me. The aroma of onion reached me and I wished I wasn’t quite so proud because I was hungry.
We started moving off immediately.
“Bonnie looks young, but she’s been flying since she was fifteen, and she’s very good. Her first officer is good, too.”
“I’ve never flown in anything this size.”
“It’s a different experience than the fifty-first row in a wide-body. Emma spoke well of you, Catherine. She’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Emma sold out.” I put plenty of disgust into my comment.
“Hardly. Sometime soon, you should have a heart to heart with Emma, and hear her story. Emma and Jesse have helped thousands of people like you come out of the shadows and live productive, satisfying lives.”
“That’s not what Adam says.”
“What Adam says…” She rolled her eyes at me.
“Are you one of us?”
“No. I’m just an ordinary human.”
“If Mason Eckhart cares so much about his long-unsuspected daughter Catherine, why didn’t Mr Creepy come here himself?”
“He is afflicted with a number of severe, chronic medical problems, each requiring daily attention by a team of specialists and their instrumentation. He never puts much distance between himself and his doctors. Doing so would simply not be prudent. If he became stranded away from Genomex, he could become very ill with no one who could help him. Why do you call him Mr Creepy?”
“That’s what Adam and Brennan call him.”
She laughed. “Adam is never going to get around to growing up. When all else fails, he calls people names.”
“How did you get drafted for this babysitting job?” I maintained my unpleasantness.
“I wasn’t drafted. I volunteered. I’m ‘Mrs Creepy’.”
Could there be such a woman as a Mrs Creepy? According to Adam, Mr Creepy was completely encased in layered biopolymer, and as far as Adam knew Eckhart didn’t have a lot of choice in remaining celibate. I turned and took a careful look at Mrs Rebecca Creepy.
She looked normal, attractive enough to not have to settle for anyone odd or marginal. She seemed pleasant and human. Under other circumstances, I would probably like her.
“If you’re not GSA, why are you carrying a gun?”
“Brennan Mulwray once tossed me several yards into a concrete wall. That won’t happen again.”
No, you won’t let anything like that happen again to you. I believe that.
“What had you done to him?”
“Nothing. Adam told him to zorch me, so he did.”
“And what had you done to Adam?”
She chuckled. “When I started at Genomex about seventeen years ago, women were tripping over each other trying to draw the attention of the Prince of Genomex. Just not me.”
“Why not?”
“I found Adam tiresome, personally pompous, and professionally overrated. No sane woman who believed in herself would want that in her life.”
But you did want Mr Creepy, huh? Hmm…
“You could have had Adam?”
“For me, he would have been no prize. Adam doesn’t understand “no” very well. He was nearly fired for sending slanderous emails about me all over the company. Dr Breedlove signed the statement everyone received clearing me of all the lies in the email. That’s a very juvenile thing to do, completely unworthy of the man Adam pretends to be…but isn’t. And never will be.”
I had never heard anyone speak negatively of Adam. Everyone I knew thought Adam was wonderful.
“That’s hard to believe.”
“I have no motivation to lie. If you ever speak to the Prince of Genomex again, ask him about the email and the wicked Dr Rebecca Steyn. His confabulations are amusing.”
I had never met anyone who did not hold Adam in high regard. What was wrong with this woman?
“You hate all of us mutants, don’t you?”
“Hogwash. There are several mutants among the Genomex staff. I consider Emma and Jesse to be friends. So does Mason.”
I didn’t have a good answer for that. It didn’t make any sense considering what I knew.
“What’s Mr Creepy going to do with me? Turn me into an experiment?”
“Well, tonight, he’s going to have dinner with you, but as for the rest, you’re confusing him with Adam Kane. Adam did perform experiments on you, didn’t he? ‘Fine-tuning’ your DNA or some other legitimate-sounding euphemism?”
“He was trying to help me.”
“That’s what he tells every Genomex mutant. Unfortunately, it’s really about Adam’s unlimited ego and sick curiosity.”
“Dinner with Mr Creepy sounds delightful.” I moved the discussion away from Adam and back towards the easy target of Eckhart.
“Catherine, things are not always as they seem or how we would like them to be. You would be wise to approach Mason with your mind ever so slightly open. You might be surprised. There are a lot of things he could have done with you other than bring you home by private jet. He could have left you to languish in the court system, but he chose not to abandon you.”
“I’m not sure which is worse.”
“You’re about to find out.” She was still calm. I was not.
“You’re not going to tell me how wonderful Mr Creepy is?”
“You wouldn’t believe what I told you. I intend to allow you to sort through impressions and facts yourself. However, there are some things you do need to know.” She reached under her seat and pulled out a leather case, removing some framed photographs.
“You have siblings—half-siblings.”
She handed me the first photo. “That’s Grey Eckhart. He’s the oldest.” Then she handed me two others. “That is Michelle and that is Deirdre Eckhart.”
“They’re twins. How can you tell them apart?”
“I can’t. They wore different clothes for these portraits.”
They all shared the same eyes. They were good-looking, confident kids who knew who they were and what they wanted. Unlike me. I hadn’t been too sure of myself even before Mom died.
“How did he come to father these?” My rudeness was intentional.
“From his first marriage, which ended when his wife left him for Adam. Yes, Catherine, another lesser known detail from Adam’s past.”
Adam? Messing around with somebody else’s wife?
“He’s never said anything about that. Neither did my Mom.”
“Adam flittered right from Jackie to Danielle in a matter of weeks. You wouldn’t expect him to talk about that, would you?”
“How do you know?” I made an accusation with the tone of my voice.
“Mason told me.”
“And of course, you believed him.”
“I have never caught Mason lying to me. We don’t tell stories to one another. Adam is less than he seems. Much less.”
“What am I supposed to do with them,” I asked, pointing to the handsome brood of intelligent-looking progeny.
“Well, you could have a family.”
“A big, happy family, huh?” More sarcasm out of me. Sure she would chase after some of this bait.
“I didn’t say it would be easy or automatic. They accept me now, but that required conscious effort on my part, honesty, consistency, and an overall light touch.”
“Do they know about me?”
“Not yet. Mason has no intention of keeping you a secret, however.”
“I don’t understand why I’m here.” I really didn’t. I was very confused about so much.
“You don’t have any other family, do you?”
“No.”
“Exactly. Mason’s trying to give you one. He knows you have no one else.”
“What could I possibly have in common with them?” I asked. “Look at them. Look at
me.”
“Well, you have Mason in common. And as of this evening, you will have spent time with him. His health problems tie him down, and his children live at some distance. Grey has not seen him since he was a small boy. The girls have no memory of seeing him. They know him through webcams and emails. Sometimes he helps them with homework. Sometimes I do as well.”
“I could have used your help in algebra last year.” That was true.
“I can still help you. Catherine, I’ve studied a bit of everything, including folklore. Obviously, I am cast into the role of the Wicked Stepmother, but that is not who I am. I love your father, and that means I care for his children. That could include you as well.”
I always thought science people were cold and detached and a bit crazy, like Adam, but Rebecca Steyn was at once organized, logical, and deeply emotional. She had the good sense not to gush all over me, a stranger she just met and make all kinds of promises to me. She just said there were potentials, not certainties. That she cared for my father was obvious. I did not know if that indicated poor judgment on her part. Everything had heard about Eckhart before today described one of the most unlikable men imaginable.
“You need to know that everyone involved—Mason, his kids, me—none of us have had warm, fuzzy families. We have the possibility of hammering out something positive. I prefer doing that to living in the past. You also need to understand that one of Mason’s afflictions is a compromised immune system. He typically keeps his distance from people. If you look carefully you will be able to tell he is wearing faux skin. He also almost always wears black leather gloves. None of this is about you. He has lived this way since 1991. I know it looks very odd at first, but try not to be put off by it.”
“He was in some kind of accident, wasn’t he?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No. There was no accident. Adam tried to kill him. I don’t expect you to believe that but once you’ve seen the security tapes it’s hard to believe otherwise.”
I went back through the portraits once more. Grey’s picture had slipped inside the frame, so I opened up the back to straighten it, and found another, smaller photos tucked in the back. I removed it carefully and compared it to the one of the nearly grown Grey. The smaller photo was of a dark-haired young man holding a blue bundle containing the nearly newly hatched Grey.
Rebecca watched me from close range. The seats were so close together she could easily see the photograph. “Looks like a human being to me. He wasn’t always ‘Mr Creepy’.”
Things were quickly becoming more complicated than I had ever imagined. Eckhart had once been someone else.
I recognized the eyes. He had given them to his other three children, but not to me.
I studied the photos again. Yes. She was right. Very human. He looked proud and happy. There was nothing in that face to suggest what would come, the scheming, the malevolence, the cruelty, all the dreadful acts and crimes I’d heard about all my life.
“So, where did ‘Mr Creepy’ come from?”
“Just as we indulge in the pleasing fiction that modern medicine can patch us back together exactly as we were prior to a serious injury, we like to believe emotional traumas and abuses will leave us unchanged and unaltered. Neither belief is more than wishful thinking. Each of us is the sum of what has happened to us. Oh, we can decide not to be bitter or crazy, but anyone who flutters through life all light and fluffy after bad things have happened to them is either too stupid to learn anything or a charming fraud.
Terrible things have happened to Mason, emotional and physical disasters. Most of them he’s had to cope with by himself. Give him some credit for fortitude, Catherine. He refuses to allow self-pity or despair to be part of his life.”
I had to think about that for a long time.
2009 Separate the Sorrow part 2
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The Sun Never Sets on PureMX.net
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