NANOVISION: What Would You Do With X-ray Vision? (10 page)

Katie nodded her
head. “Okay,” she replied, meekly. She opened the door to the car and climbed
into the backseat, sitting behind Rudy who was waiting at the wheel.

Ethyl looked over
to her dear friend. “Rudy... thanks,” she said, patting the old man on the arm.

“Anytime,” he
answered, giving her a wave. He started the car and drove off, leaving Ethyl
and Daniel behind.

“Well, if I
didn’t know better, I would suspect that something serious was going on,” joked
Daniel when Ethyl returned.

Ethyl managed a
weak smile. She intertwined her arm with his and the two walked. “Daniel, I had
a call from Doctor Muller earlier today,” she said. “He says the MRI you had
last week is showing a small mass behind your right eye... he thinks it might
be cancerous.” 

“Great...”
responded Daniel.

“Daniel, he
thinks it would be best to operate and remove both your eyes and replace them
with prosthetics.” 

“Marbles? No... I
don’t want glass eyes.” 

Ethyl sighed.
“Daniel, if it is cancer the surgery could save your life. And your sight’s
been gone for over four years now.”

Her assessment
did not sit well with Daniel. He pulled away. “Aunt Ethyl−it’s just not
fair!” he shouted, slamming his walking stick down on the ground. “I always
hoped that someday, I’d get my sight back... that something would change!”

Tears welled in
his eyes.

“You don’t know
how many times I’ve wished that I could see again... if only to find the man
who did this to me and my father. I want so bad, to pay him back for all the
pain he put into my life. And if they take my eyes I’ll never get that chance.”

“I know dear,”
she counseled, softly. “But we have to think about today and what’s best for
the future.”

Daniel began to
laugh sarcastically. “Some future... marbles for eyes−being blind
forever. That’s not exactly what I hoped for. You know, I used to dream... that
someday... maybe you and Nanobytes would come to my rescue... that there was a
miracle in waiting behind this great company of yours. I realize now, that
after four years that was too much to hope for... I guess it was just a stupid
dream.”

“You’re being too
hard on yourself, Daniel. Dreams are important. Even the ones that fail. You
know, I’m probably to blame for your thinking that. After all, my dream’s been
this company. It’s all I talk about. It’s been my entire life, my sole purpose.
When I started Nanobytes my plan was to change the world. To cure everyone...
to save people. It just turned out to be a lot harder than I anticipated. And
now I feel I’ve let everyone down.”

Daniel shook his
head. “So, why does it have to be this way, Aunt Ethyl? Why do we give up? What
stops us? What stops the dream? I mean, even now, I don’t want to give up... after
all I have been through I don’t want to give up.”

Ethyl squeezed
his hand−her touch reassuring him. “I know,” she confided. “Giving up is
never easy.”

Daniel turned
toward her and smiled. “You know what really would have been cool?”

“No, what?” she
asked.

“To see you and
Katie. To see your faces. To see you smile... and laugh. God, I would give
anything for that. I mean the two of you have done so much for me and I have no
idea what you look like. I hate that. It’s not fair. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think I
do,” answered Ethyl.

“So, when do they
want to operate?” he asked, accepting the finality of the situation.

Ethyl didn’t
respond. Her mind was racing a mile a minute and she couldn’t answer. With her
arm linked with Daniel’s she just kept walking, mulling over the same thoughts
in her mind:
Was she giving up? Was she? Nanobytes wasn’t a dream. It was
more−much more. She’d built it to help people−to cure them. They
were right on the cusp. But if she gave up now−who would know? Who would
know? Who would know?

Noticing her
silence, Daniel turned toward her−her breathing was off. He prodded her.
“Aunt Ethyl? You’re not saying anything. What’s up?”

There was still
no response and he prodded her again. “What gives, Aunt Ethyl? For as long as I
can remember you’ve always been there with a pep talk − a rah, rah, rah,
pushing me on − but now? Why are you so quiet?”

Ethyl couldn’t
answer. She wanted too, but she couldn’t bring herself to express the war of
thoughts raging in her mind. Fearful of the consequences, she just kept
walking, taking step after step, contemplating her options in silence.
Exasperated, Daniel pressed harder−his voice becoming emphatic. “Aunt
Ethyl? What is it? Why won’t you answer me?”

The response that
finally came was low and strained, barely a whisper. “There might be another
way.”

The words
inflamed Daniel−his excitement surged. “What? Tell me! What???”

Ethyl was doomed
and she knew it. Drawing Daniel to a nearby bench, she instructed him to sit.
She then sat next to him and spoke quietly in his ear with a voice that was dry
and shaky.

“When you came to
live with us four years ago,” she began, “I was intrigued by your maladies and
I couldn’t let it go. I knew that something had to be done. So I had you
tested−more than once. And I started manipulating your DNA strands,
combining them with embryonic T-cells and nanites to see what was possible.
Worse yet, I began channeling funds from my company and utilizing the efforts
of my staff to figuring out how we might cure you. For the longest time I
didn’t think we’d be able to do much. Things didn’t go well. But in the last
six months we’ve seen a huge breakthrough. At least I think so. But nothing’s
been tested. I’m not sure...”

“Not sure about
what?” asked Daniel.

“If it will
work,” she responded. “The procedure is radical ... and possibly dangerous.”

“I don’t care,”
said Daniel.

“That’s because
you are young−you think you’re invincible. Daniel, the procedure is
beyond any medical boundary known today−it borders on science fiction. It
combines DNA from animals and insects, and utilizes a new nanite power source,
a rare isotope that we’ve barely tested. It’s years away from clinical
testing...”

“So why are you
telling me now?” asked Daniel.

“Because it’s now
or never and I may never get another chance. I’m being pushed out, Daniel. The
backers supporting this company are unhappy with my lack of progress. It’s all
about money. They want to sell Nanobytes to the highest bidder. And when that
happens my research will end. I will be replaced and everything I’ve dreamt and
worked for will be gone.” 

Daniel jumped to
his feet. “Then use me!” he exclaimed. “Use me, Aunt Ethyl... before it’s too
late. Please!!! I would rather try anything than to have to give up my eyes.
And if it doesn’t work − they can always operate and take them out! What
do you have to lose?” 

Ethyl swallowed
hard. “But what if I make things worse? How would I explain that to Katie?”

“Katie would
understand. And you won’t fail,” said Daniel, emphatically. “I know you. And
I’ve heard what others say about you. Do you know that behind your back they
call you Dr. Einstein. They think that because I’m blind I can’t hear, but I
do.”

“That’s just
foolish banter.” said Ethyl.

“No, it’s not,”
replied Daniel. “They know you and they respect you. If anyone can do this,
it’s you. Now please − take the chance. I want to see more than anything.
It’s worth the risk. You’ve already done all the work−it’s time, Aunt
Ethyl. Put your genius to the test!”

*   *   *   *

It was dark in
the lab with the exception of the overhead lamps that illuminated the operating
table where Daniel lay. It was what Ethyl wanted. No one else was to be
involved with what was about to transpire. She had even dismissed the night
watch, telling them to take the night off. This was to be her affair and hers
alone.

Dressed in
hospital garb, like a surgeon operating behind a mask and cap she injected
Daniel with a mild sedative, wishing him pleasant dreams as he faded into
unconsciousness.

She then went to
work.

Chapter 6

The night air was
cold as Mickey drove down from San Francisco to San Jose. It was getting late
and he wasn’t quite sure where he was going. He had already been forced to make
two stops, one for a gun and some coke, the other for a knife. The first he got
from a friend of a friend whom he did time with in Indiana, the other from a
Big 5 sporting goods store. The gun was a Kimber semi-automatic with the serial
numbers filed off and a silencer that cost him sixteen hundred cash; the knife
was a six-inch fixed blade buck knife used for skinning and gutting deer. He
would have preferred an eight inch blade, but beggars can’t be choosers, and he
figured it would slice and dice just as easy.

Using the GPS on
his phone, Mickey found Dr. Curry’s office on Jackson Street; a two-story
medical building not far off the freeway. He pulled in and checked out the
place, looking to see if there were any security cameras or alarms−as
luck would have it there were, three of them. He cursed.
How was he going to
get in and find Daniel Raye’s address? He couldn’t afford to get caught or
leave a trail−not now.
It was then that fate stepped in; a van pulled
into the parking lot. Mickey noted the signage on its side. It was a janitorial
service−Dury Cleaners Home & Office. Mickey glanced at his watch. It
was nearly 10 PM, and he wondered how long it would take to clean this
place−
a couple hours maybe.
He snorted some coke and waited.

It was almost
1:30 by the time the guy finished cleaning the offices of Dr. Curry. Mickey
watched as the maintenance guy loaded his equipment back into the van. After
locking up the office he climbed into the van and filled out some paperwork. He
then left with Mickey following behind at a safe distance.

Thirty-five
minutes later and a good twenty miles across town Dury Cleaners made its next
stop−another office building. This one was smaller and older−it
backed up against a hillside, providing Mickey the opportunity he needed. The
place was dark and remote, and Mickey knew he was unlikely to be seen on camera−if
there were any at all. He took the semi out and attached the silencer, put
gloves on, and while his intended victim was occupied getting his cleaning
equipment out of the van, Mickey snuck up behind him. Without a word he capped
the maintenance guy from behind with a bullet to the head splattering his
brains across the inside of the van. The sound of the gun’s report was loud,
louder than Mickey expected. Silencers were never what they made out on TV, but
there was no response from anywhere in the neighborhood and the guy never knew
what hit him. He collapsed in a heap halfway into the van−Mickey shoved
him the rest of the way, but not before first grabbing the van keys and the
guy’s wallet.

Mickey drove the
van to the closest bar he could find and parked. On the passenger seat next to
him was a pile of rags, and underneath that a stack of papers and a log
book--the appointment registry for Dury Cleaners. Mickey opened the log and
thumbed through it. Inside he found the alarm code for Curry’s office. He was
set. Ripping out the page he needed he threw the registry aside, and left the
vehicle with the body inside. The guy he killed was probably single−he
wasn’t wearing a ring and Mickey knew that with this being the Martin Luther
King weekend, they wouldn’t start looking for this guy for days. And when they
did, his death outside a bar would appear to be a simple robbery gone bad.
What
more could a hitman ask for?

Using his phone
to call a cab, Mickey retrieved his car and returned to the psychiatric office
of Dr. Joseph Curry, parking on the street to avoid notice. Outside, the sky
was starting to lighten and Mickey was dog tired. He’s been up almost
twenty-four hours chasing Daniel Raye’s whereabouts and he was coked out to the
max. He needed sleep. With keys in hand, Mickey entered Curry’s office, turning
off the alarm system. He locked the door and cased the joint, checking the
doctor’s appointment schedule. It appeared, according to the notes on the
secretary’s desk that the good doctor would be out of town for the holiday
weekend. He was going to Vegas.
What a coincidence,
thought Mickey
−and
how fortuitous
. With the doctor gone, he wouldn’t have to get a motel
room−the office even had a small shower. Taking off his jacket, Mickey
settled in. The doctor’s psychiatric couch made a perfect bed.

*    *    *    *

It was early
Sunday morning by the time Daniel awoke. He had been asleep for over
thirty-eight hours, mostly due to the sedation his aunt had administered. She
wanted him to rest and remain still, giving the nanites inside him time to
rearrange and rebuild the cellular structure of his eyes. It was an ongoing
process.

Daniel heard a
voice.

“Hey, sleepyhead.
How you feeling?”

Daniel struggled
to focus. Everything was dark−his eyes were covered and his head was
wrapped with gauze, and the dream he was having−whoa. And his mouth, it
was so dry and sticky he could barely move his tongue. “Mmmm” was all he could
get out.

He felt someone
lift his head and place a pillow behind it. A straw was placed between his
lips−he drew in the cold water. “How do you feel?” the voice asked again.
He recognized it this time−it was his Aunt.

The water hit the
spot. “Oh, wow,” he muttered, yawning as he took a deep breath. “I feel like I
could sleep all day.” 

“It’s probably
the nanites, they’re drawing energy from your body.” 

“Mmmm,” Daniel
responded, not really listening.

“Daniel, I need
to give you another injection − a follow-up.”

Daniel nodded his
head weakly. “Okay.” He threw off the blanket covering him. “Gimmie a minute,
I’ll get dressed.” 

His Aunt stopped
him. “No, we can do it here. Just lie still.” 

“Here?” 

“Yes. I brought a
hypo-gun home with me.”

She tapped the
small black case sitting in her lap. Daniel heard two metallic clicks as she
opened it and removed the hypo gun. She then placed a vial filled with red
liquid into the hypo chamber.

“This time it
won’t be as invasive. I just need to remove your bandages.”

Unrolling the gauze
that wrapped his head, Ethyl removed the two cotton pads that covered Daniel’s
eyes. His eyelids were stuck shut from antibiotic gel and crusty eye
residue−gunk. Ever so gently Ethyl pried open one of his eyelids,
examining his eye. It was still white and layered with scar tissue−there
seemed to be little change. Pressing the hypo against the hardened tissue, she
pulled the trigger and a whoosh of air shot out. She repeated the procedure
four more times; then moved on to Daniel’s other eye.

Daniel was bursting
with questions. “How do they look?” he asked.

“It’s too early
to tell,” she cautioned. “If this works it will happen in stages. The procedure
yesterday was designed to repair the damage deep within your eyes near the
optic nerve. These shots today will address the problems closer to the lens
cortex. I’m going to give you another pill to help you sleep some more.
Dissolving the scar tissue that covers your eyes will not be easy and it’ll
probably sting like hell, but there’s no other way.”

Daniel squeezed
her hand. “Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t thank me
yet,” she replied, as she re-bandaged his eyes−she gave him a pain pill.
He was nearly out when the downstairs phone rang. Ethyl felt her body tense.
She then heard footsteps bouncing up the stairs−it was Katie, home from
her softball game. She knocked on the door.

“It’s open,” said
Ethyl.

Still in uniform,
Katie entered the room carrying her glove and baseball bat along with the
phone. She glanced over at Daniel, then whispered to her grandmother.

“Nanna, it’s for
you. It’s Ted Stockwell from security. He says it’s imperative that he talk
with you.”

Ethyl nodded her
head and took the phone. “Hello,” she said, muffling her voice as she left the
room.

Daniel stirred.

“Hey,” said
Katie. “How yah feeling?” She leaned the bat against the wall and plopped down
on the end of the bed.

“Jaa-win?” asked
Daniel, slurring his words.

Katie shook her
head. “Nah, we got creamed.”

“If I g-g-get...
ta see... a-a-gain. I’ll sh-sh-show yah... h-h-how to baaaat.”

Katie laughed.
“You sound drunk.”

“Yea...” he
replied, falling fast asleep.

*    *    *    *

“Ms. Santini,
it’s Ted from Internal Security. I wanted to call and let you know that Paul
Gregan’s here with a bunch of people. He’s got a court order and they’re taking
over Nanobytes. Alice called − your office has been sealed and everyone
is being forced to leave. Security is escorting us out and the computers are
down. What should I do?”

“It’s okay, Ted. I’ve
been expecting this. Get ahold of everyone and tell them to meet me off
property at three o’clock. I’ll be there to explain everything. Good. Yes...
Thank you.”

Katie stood at
the bottom of the stairs listening in on her Grandmother’s conversation. It
didn’t sound good.

“Nanna? What’s
going on? And whose Ted−he sounded upset?”

Ethyl motioned
for Katie to come closer − she hugged her.

“You know I love
you, right?”

Katie nodded,
“Yes, Nanna, of course.”

Ethyl began to
weep. “Katie dear, I’m afraid I’m in trouble. You see, I’ve done something
wrong... very wrong and I’m afraid it’s going to get me arrested.”

“What? What did
you do?”

“I took something
from NanoBytes... Valuable information...” 

“But you own
NanoBytes?”

“There’s more to
it than that, honey. When I decided to help Daniel a while back I skirted some federal
regulations regarding embryonic research, I moved some money around... and I
deleted some files.”

“What kind of
files?” 

“NanoBytes’
research data for the last five years.”

“Oh, Nanna...” 

“I know, I
know... but it was the only way to protect everyone. A lot of good people
worked for me and I didn’t want to see them hurt. So I purged Nanobytes’
computer system.”

*    *    *    *

It didn’t take
Mickey long to find the file on Daniel Raye. Doctor Curry was no genius and his
files were rudimentary. He actually had an antiquated filing system with paper
files in metal cabinets. Thumbing through them, Mickey quickly found one
labeled Daniel Raye / Daniel Lewis. It detailed the boy’s arrival in San Jose
and the start of his psychiatric sessions. From there Mickey was able to find
his legal guardian−Ethyl Ruth Santini. He found her address with his
phone. It was all too easy. First, he’d grab a shower, then a bite to eat.
Afterwards, he’d kill the kid and fly home.
Keep it simple
, he told
himself,
keep it simple
.

*    *    *    *

It was a little
after two in the afternoon and Ethyl was upstairs getting dressed. She was
nervous wondering what she was going to say to the people who worked for her.
They would want to know what was going on and what the future held for
Nanobytes. She was putting on her shoes when she heard a loud, hard pounding on
the front door−it echoed through the house. Making her way downstairs,
Ethyl approached the front door. She could already see red and blue lights flashing
through the front window and she knew trouble had arrived. She called to Katie.

Opening the door,
Ethyl faced two uniformed officers, one male, one female and a detective.

“Doctor Ethyl
Santini?” the detective queried, half in question, half statement.

Ethyl responded
weakly. “Yes.”

“I’m detective
Harding, and I have a warrant for your arrest.”

 From behind,
Katie screamed. “No!!! No, Nanna no!” She latched onto her grandmother, holding
her tightly.

Asleep in his
room, Daniel awoke to the sounds of the commotion downstairs.
What the hell
was going on? What was Katie screaming about?
Throwing off the covers,
Daniel rolled out of bed, finding himself dressed in a t-shirt and underwear.
He quickly grabbed his jeans and slid them on, then grabbed his walking stick.
Moving toward the door, he struggled to fight off the influence of the sleeping
pill. He felt like shit and it showed. Hobbling downstairs, he made it to the
front room just in time to hear Katie crying, the cuffs being placed on his
aunt’s wrists and the detective reading her her rights.

“What’s going
on?” he asked.