Camp Alien (49 page)

“Do you recognize the voice in the recording?” Chuckie asked hopefully.

“Nope. No idea who that is. He sounds old, though. Like older than my Papa Abe or Nono Dom old.”

White jerked. “Play the message again, please.” Raj did. White listened intently.

So did I. This time around, noted that the speaker was in love with a catchphrase. Wasn't what the Mastermind had loved, but still, it was repeated a lot. Couldn't argue—I had things I liked to say frequently, too. But it wasn't one I'd heard any of our enemies say before, at least not repeatedly. Wondered if it was to throw us off, make us think he wasn't whoever he actually was. But since no one seemed to have any idea of the speaker's identity, probably not.

“Missus Martini, I believe I remember what about the labs we visited today was so familiar. Just as this voice is familiar, but familiar in a way I don't recognize. It's the speech patterns that are familiar. However, I'm going to need Paul's help to retrieve the memory. Or Abigail's.”

“I'll do it, Uncle Richard,” Abigail said. “Just in case
we're still our own nation and all that.” Was pretty sure she was joking, but Jeff, Chuckie, and Reader all winced.

Gower sighed. “You realize that we need to put aside personal anger right now, don't you?”

She sniffed at all of them, her big brother in particular. “Almost everyone in this room who came in with us was on that helicarrier when you almost allowed it to be blown up. Kitty's not blaming you, Paul, but I am—your job as our Supreme Pontifex is to try to solve issues like this.”

“This was the peaceful solution.” Though Gower didn't sound like he totally believed that himself.

Abigail rolled her eyes. “I'm with Kitty—do you know her, or the rest of us, at all?”

White sat down and Abigail stood behind him, her fingers gently on his temple. “This may take a while,” White said. “It's a very old memory.”

“Okay, while we wait, I want someone somewhere making dinner for us. We have a lot of people who haven't had a normal meal in a long time and if they're not at Dulce getting medical care and, therefore one assumes, decent food, they're in here with me and, like me, would like a meal.” Had to figure that if I was hungry, everyone who'd been a prisoner in some way was starving, especially those held at Forest Haven. “Crap.”

“What?” Chuckie asked.

“We forgot to have anyone take over Stephanie's Lair at Forest Haven. For some reason, those warheads aimed at us wiped that to-do out of my mind.”

“We'll handle it,” Chuckie said.

Decided to let him have that one because the mistake of forgetfulness was mine. “If she's out, she's already gone back, taken what she might want, and left again. How long has she been out?”

“Since we saw that,” Jeff nodded toward the dismemberment scene. “Look, I know you're mad at us, and I get it. But I thought it was you. It sounded like you.”

“No, it doesn't. It sounds like my voice. But it doesn't sound like
me
. Speech patterns matter. Cliff Goodman likes to say ‘part to play' so much that his minions say it now, too. It's part of how we figured out he was the Mastermind. The old dude threatening to kill the Hostage Kitty-Bot there has a figure of speech, too. He likes to say ‘imagine the
possibilities' as if he's working for Mattel on their latest New Barbie launch. He said it at least five times in that one threatening message. That's a heavy reliance on a phrase. But the Hostage Kitty-Bot said nothing like I would. Not one, single thing.”

“Got it!” Abigail said. “Thanks for that, Kitty, that phrase triggered the memory enough for me to grab it.” She stopped looking triumphant and color drained from her face. “Oh dear.”

“W
ELL, THAT GOT
the room's attention. What's wrong, Abby?”

“Uncle Richard knows who the speaker is. But . . . it seems impossible.”

“I have it now,” White said. He, too, looked ashen. And shocked. “I also want to say that it's not possible, but I've learned over the years that anything is possible, even people returning from the dead.”

“Who just resurrected for you?”

White sighed. “My father's old adjunct.”

“Wouldn't he be dead by now?”

“No, he was young.” White shook his head as if to clear it. “Let me start from the beginning. I was very young the last time I ever saw or heard him. He was young, too, though. Probably just in his early twenties, maybe even late teens.”

“And he was your father's adjunct?”

“Yes, because he was incredibly talented in terms of science and math and creation. He wasn't being groomed as my father's replacement—I was. However, he was definitely helping my father lead our people farther into the sciences than we'd ever gone before. And he always said ‘imagine the possibilities' when they were discussing science and, well, anything, really.”

We all exchanged the Oh No look. “I'm going to hate this, aren't I?” Jeff asked.

“Probably.” White cleared his throat. “I was named for him.”

“His name is Richard?” I wasn't used to A-Cs utilizing names repeatedly. Humans seemed more into that.

“No, Trevor. I was given his name as my middle name. After my mother was murdered, Lucinda and I spent quite a bit of time with him, both with my father and without. Trevor didn't seem to mind when it was just we children with him, either. He always had something for us to amuse ourselves with and never did anything untoward. When my father remarried, we children visited him less frequently because our stepmother was there to care for us, and though Trevor still came over to our home, it wasn't as often as it had been. But . . . I thought he was killed when my stepmother was murdered.”

“If that's him on the message, he wasn't.”

“Correct. But I remember . . . my father was so upset at losing another wife. But losing Trevor didn't seem to upset him at all. That was when I realized that my father had been altered somehow.”

“Let me just take the Megalomania Leap. Trevor didn't die. Trevor took off for Earth. And your father knew about it.”

“Why would he do that?” Christopher asked. “If he was so tight with our grandfather, why leave him alone?”

Chuckie sat up straight. “To pave the way. You all had gate technology longer than you've been here.”

“Much longer,” White agreed. “We created it so that we could easily travel to the other planets in the system without wasting resources. Gate use for on-planet reasons was a later refinement.”

“Again, I learn something new every single day. So, I think Chuckie's right—Trevor comes out here first. Like . . . like Alfred or Robin going to set up the Vacation Bat Cave for Batman.”

“Makes sense,” Reader said. “You think he's the one who found the underground tunnels?”

Thought about Bizarro World. The Alfred there who was Jeff's father here had been the only alien on Earth, and he'd definitely gone searching for a hiding place. And A-Cs were burrowers, so he'd looked underground. “Yes, I think we can go with that assumption. So, he gets things set up for Yates—things like a business that can take off as soon as Yates arrives.”

“Why would they assume Yates would be exiled?” Abigail asked. “The Royal Family had already tried to kill him twice, right?”

“Right, and they weren't succeeding. A-Cs like efficiency, you know that. Let's say that Yates and Trevor had insider information. I mean, it's not like only Earth utilizes a spy network.”

“There's definitely one on Alpha Four,” Chuckie confirmed. “And per Leonidas, it's been around for centuries.”

White nodded. “Humans didn't invent deceit, sadly.”

“So, no one's mentioned Trevor, ever.”

“I haven't thought of him in decades, really,” White said.

“The memories were buried deeply,” Abigail confirmed.

“Right, well, I didn't actually mean you, Richard. I've spent a lot of time up close and personal with most of the Megalomaniac League, and no one's ever said there was some adjunct guy hanging around doing the laundry.”

“He wasn't like that,” White said. “He was a creator, a tinkerer, if you will. He created the prototypes and then my father had our people work on them. Trevor is who likely came up with the idea for the ozone shield. I don't believe he created the gates, but he certainly refined them. He favored open laboratories like the ones we were in—clean white walls and glass partitions with a great deal of space. He felt it allowed the creativity to flow without being obstructed and also allowed him to work on multiple projects at once.”

“Leonardo,” Lizzie said.

“Excuse me?” Jeff asked.

“Leonardo da Vinci,” she explained for the Slow of Wit in the room, which I had to admit my husband and best guy friends were amongst right now. “He created, like, all this stuff, totes amazing things, especially for his day and age. But he didn't mean for them to be used for bad, even though a lot of them were. He just couldn't stop creating, even when he tried.”

“Does that sound like Trevor the Tinkerer?” I asked White.

“It does. My father was quite proud of him. I'd venture to say that he considered him more like a son.” He looked down. “More like the son he wanted than I believe I ever was.”

“And thank God for that, Richard. I think I can speak for every person on Earth when I say that we're all thankful you're nothing like your father ever was. But was Trevor an Apprentice or even a Mastermind himself?”

“No,” White said slowly. “He never craved the limelight. He insisted that my father claim the credit for his inventions. I can just remember them arguing about it, with my father wanting him to have his rightful due. Trevor was uninterested in that. As Elizabeth just compared, he was more like Leonardo.”

Managed not to make a Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle comment, but as with so many things this evening, it took effort. “So, we have the Tinkerer here. And I think we can safely say he's still alive and well. For all we know he's created an antiaging pill or chamber or something. God knows who he's been assisting from the shadows all these years, but I'm willing to bet it was everyone against us.”

“Maybe some for us,” Christopher said. “If he really cares more about the creation than anything else.”

“Possibility noted. He's definitely working with the great-granddaughter of his former benefactor, presumably happily and willingly. And, based on what triggered Richard's walk down Memory Lane, he's also helping out those working on the Strauss Initiative. Meaning he's playing whatever game suits him. So, right now, I'd like us all to take a moment and think very hard and very honestly about Stephanie.”

“Why?” Jeff asked. “And before you yell at me, I'm fully on the side of Stephanie's not a good person anymore, based on this entire day. They clearly had this contingency plan in place for the next time she was captured. And it was just as clearly set up to literally torture me and anyone else who cares about you. I'm still having to process all of my and everyone else's emotions from seeing that video, let alone the rest of the day, and there are no blocks in the world that can keep how angry you and the others were with us from me. I also appreciate very much that all of you are trying not to be mad at us now. Most of you are still upset, but I can feel you trying to not be, and I'm grateful.”

“You make a good point. That was definitely set up to hurt you. And if the Kendroid had been successful in coordinating their Plan B, they'd have returned me, minus an arm, back to you guys in my new and improved android version, and if I was ‘off' in any way it would be placed on my having been so horribly tortured and maimed.”

“Sounds about right,” Chuckie said morosely. “And,
seriously, I'm not an empath and I can feel everyone's anger. We all feel stupid and awful enough.”

Took a look at my team. “I don't think we're all still as mad at you guys as you think we are, but, as a warning, you're going to feel worse shortly.”

“Why did the Kendroid say he wanted Uncle Richard to be turned into an android, too?” Abigail asked. “If the whole plot was that he was killed to make us cooperate?”

“Because they could pass the ‘he wasn't quite dead' line and resurrect him, too.” I'd done that, with the Chuckie, Reader, and Buchanan in Bizarro World, after all. It wasn't a new or even surprising technique. “Then you send both of us back, only we're androids.”

“That sounds far-fetched,” Jeff said.

“Does it?” Joe stepped forward and took his knit cap off. There were gasps throughout the room. Lorraine looked like she'd been punched in the stomach.

“Told you it was going to get worse.”

“Oh, that's not all,” Randy said, as he, too, took off his knit cap. He also took off the stretchy arm braces Lizzie had found for them. “It's like this on our legs, too.”

“What . . . what did they do to you?” Claudia whispered. She looked ready to faint.

“White House Medical will get to make the full determination, but as near as we can tell, Stephanie's using a very intricate process that inserts the android wires into the body. While the person is alive but in a sort of coma. I woke the guys up from that by slamming adrenaline into their hearts. Nothing else worked.”

“I took pictures,” Lizzie said. “So we'd have something to look at in case the site was destroyed or cleaned out.”

“Just so we're all clear, Joe and Randy seem to be more like the new Six Million Dollar Men than androids. While Butler and Maurer had to work to regain themselves, Joe and Randy are still Joe and Randy. And they're under their own mental control.”

“Barring someone flipping a switch we don't know about,” Randy pointed out.

“But our legs and arms are definitely stronger,” Joe said. “We think we can run as fast an A-C, or close to it. We don't know what's going on with our heads, and we also don't know if our lungs could keep up with us running like A-Cs.”

“We've been a little too focused on being rescued, getting other people rescued, and not being blown up by friendly fire to test ourselves out. Otherwise, we both feel okay,” Randy added.

“They still have all their boy parts, too,” I reassured the girls. They didn't look reassured.

“You checked?” Jeff no longer sounded upset or freaked out or anything. He sounded jealous. Which was, all things considered, kind of nice. We might have just had what was probably the second worst fight of our relationship—because nothing was likely to top the end of Operation Drug Addict—but he was still jealous that I might be looking at other guys. Then again I'd kind of mentioned that I was planning to divorce him and look at all my available options. Maybe I'd apologize for that. Later. And in private.

“Oh, I had lots of things to check out, trust me. We were spoilt for choice.”

“They were all like Ken Dolls,” Lizzie said, making a face. “That's why Kitty made sure Joe and Randy were still intact.” Adults coughed and looked embarrassed. “What? Geez, I'm almost fifteen. I've seen the internet.”

“I had them look themselves, just in case everyone thinks I took the time to gawk at guys on my team when we were in life-threatening danger.”

“Precedent has been set for that,” Chuckie said dryly. Reader grinned. Strangely enough, this seemed to be making them both feel more normal, too. My men were weird.

“I mentioned that too,” White said with a chuckle. “She wasn't amused.”

“Oh, blah, blah, blah. Look, we have a ton to catch everyone up on and I want us fed and Tito and his team to take a serious look at everyone who was a prisoner who's here with us, starting with Joe and Randy. So, let's get back to my key point about Stephanie that I want you all to really listen to and internalize.”

“Why is this one thing so important?” Reader asked.

“Because I think it's important to the Tinkerer.”

“I'll ask, especially if it keeps you getting less angry with me,” Jeff said. “So, what's the key point?”

“Simply that Yates cared about having an heir. A real one. So I think that Trevor the Tinkerer would care about that, too. Richard wasn't his heir, not as Yates wanted. You
certainly aren't and neither is Christopher, and not just because you're good guys and follow Richard's lead, but because, as far as Yates was concerned, your bloodline was impure. Ronaldo Al Dejahl was close, but, let's face it, he wasn't enough like Yates to be the true heir.”