Revolution (4 page)

“Not happening, mister,” she answered.

A second later, Anastasia came through the
bushes holding onto a pig, which was not a pig. It was a man with a
pig’s body, roughly four feet in height with a round, porcine face
but a human nose, long and thin. The eyes were a startling blue
color and it had a human mouth. The body, though, read Porky all
the way. It wore a dark blue bodysuit.

She dropped it to the ground. “Start
talking,” she commanded.

The creature sat on its butt, its leg splayed
out like a baby sitting up for the first time. “I am... I have
escaped from a lab in Europe,” he said in an accent thick enough to
mortar bricks with. “I am Hungarian. I am one of those you have
been looking for.”

Someone knocked on the door and then whoever was out
there started hammering. “FBI!” the person shouted. “We had a
perimeter breach.”

After putting the rifle down, Harry opened
the door. The same tall and spindly man who’d spoken to him before
stood there, red-faced. He had his gun out, ready for business.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice shaking. “We saw something
running around outside in the bushes. Your, uh, girlfriend went
after it and—”

“He’s right here,” answered Harry, sweeping
his hand toward the couch where Anastasia sat with the
now-quivering and miserable pig-guy. Sarcasm dripped from his every
word. These guys were about as useful as empty cola bottles. “Nice
job on the security thing.”

The agent’s face got even redder. “That
little skunk!” he exclaimed and glared at the pig-man. “You, buddy,
you’re coming with me.”

Uttering a grunt of disgust, he made a motion
to level his gun, but Harry clamped down on the agent’s forearm.
“We’ve got it covered. I don’t think he’s going to run. We need to
talk to him.”

The agent made as if to enter and now, truly
pissed off at the other man’s attitude, Harry shoved him back.
“He’s staying here.”

“You don’t get it, kid,” the agent said in a
peeved tone. “This is my job. I need to bring him.”

“No, you don’t,” Anastasia called out.
“
You
need to call Farrell.
We
need to talk to this
guy first.”

The tone in her voice meant
do what I say
or you’ll be eating your pistol in five seconds.
With a slow
and careful motion, the agent holstered his weapon. He pulled out
his cellphone and started pushing buttons. “I’ll call it in,” he
said.

With an expression that spoke of someone
who’d just eaten ten lemons, the agent walked off with the parting
words of, “Remember, he belongs to us.”

“Justice for all,” Harry murmured, slamming
the door shut.

He went over to the couch where Anastasia and
the new arrival were sitting. The latter huddled in a small ball
with his arms around his torso and with a wary look on his porcine
face. “I heard what you just say,” the pig-man said. “I do not
understand.”

“What you just saw is our version of law and
order,” Harry remarked, entirely without irony. “Okay, start
talking.”

His eyes darting wildly, the pig-faced man
swung his head back and forth, licking his lips with a small pink
tongue. “Come on,” Anastasia prodded. “We’re like you. You can
trust us.”

“My name is Istvan, Istvan Antos,” the
pig-man said after a fashion. “I was born in Hungary, in Budapest.
My English is... not so good. Please listen to me. I was... student
in university and then I was taken away to place in the woods.”

His words tumbled out. Between the speed with
which he spoke and his accent, it was more than a little difficult
to make out what he was saying. However, between the gasps and
pants, his story emerged. Growing up in Budapest, he had a normal
life until his first year in university. “I was always small,” he
said. “I am what you call a little person—a midget?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Anastasia said. “Go
on.”

Istvan turned his gaze to the ground. “I got
sick,” he said. “It was my appendix. I go in for operation. The
doctor, he take my blood and say something to someone else. I do
not know what he say. I have operation and then they leave me
alone. My parents come to visit me. I think I will go home
soon.

“Then new doctor come one day. I was in bed,
too weak to understand. His name is not Hungarian. It is
Russian.”

“Describe him to us,” Harry said.

Istvan shut his eyes and recited, “He was
tall, very skinny and smoked, even in the hospital ward. He sounded
intelligent and said that he was a doctor interested in genetics. I
do not know what genetics have to do with me. I have simple
operation, but he seemed excited.”

The description seemed to set Anastasia off,
as she growled and spit out a name. “Grushenko,” she said with a
tone of supreme loathing, as if the name itself were poisonous.

Istvan nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, that is the
name. Grushenko, his name is Grushenko. He spoke Hungarian to my
doctor in my hospital. The doctor, he leave, uh, left and this
Grushenko, he said that he could... help me become to be
better.”

Anastasia began to growl softly, her eyes
narrowing second by second. She’d gone through the same thing, and
if she was recalling her experiences, Harry knew that she’d erupt
in anger sooner or later. Probably sooner, he figured. “So what
happened then?” he pressed. “Did he do experiments?”

Istvan nodded. In a hushed voice, continued
his tale. “I didn’t know what would happen to me. I was given pills
to help with pain, so my mind is dreamy. I sign paper. Grushenko
said no worry. We will help you. The next day they come in and give
me... what you say?” He mimed the action of someone giving him a
needle.

“They gave you a shot to put you to sleep,”
said Anastasia, her eyes glowing with anger. Then she did erupt,
slashing the side of the sofa with her claws open and tearing a
gash in it. Stuffing poured out onto the floor. “It was the
experiments, always the experiments.”

Istvan stared at her claws with fright in his
eyes. Anastasia caught the look. “Don’t worry,” she said as her
voice got deeper but stayed under control. “I’m not angry with you.
I’m angry at what they did to you, me and everyone else.”

“Cool it for now,” Harry cautioned. He tapped
Istvan on the shoulder. “Tell us what you remember.”

The little pig-man gulped. “They gave me
shot, yes, they did that. I got... shot... and before I sleep, I
heard them say Gemenc.”

“Where’s that?”

“It is Gemenc forest,” answered Istvan. “It
is in southern Hungary between Baja and Szekszard.” He spelled the
names, pronouncing each letter carefully.

Harry went over to the computer and opened
it. His DNA-decoding program was still running, so he checked on
the name that Istvan mentioned and typed it in. Seconds later, a
map flashed on the screen. “Is this it?” he asked, waving Istvan
over.

Istvan trundled over on all fours and his
eyes grew round when he looked at the map. He stood up on his hind
legs and began to jump with excitement. Pointing to a particular
spot with his hoof, he said, “Yes, that is the forest. I remember
my parents took me there when I was seven. It is a big place, part
of a national park. It has many animals and insects. Grushenko did
his experiments there.”

Anastasia came over to check things out.
Staring at the map, she began to shake her head. “I’m not saying
you’re wrong, but how could they get away without being seen?”

Istvan’s eyes glazed over and his voice
became a monotone. “I remember... I remember being carried down
steps. It was very dark.”

An underground laboratory, hidden in the
woods, Harry thought. Nurmelev, the scientist who’d experimented on
Anastasia, had built a hidden laboratory in the Catskills not far
from their cabin. If the builders had been as careful as Nurmelev
was, then no one would bother looking for it and no one would
care.

“Two men carried me,” Istvan said. “They wore
uniforms. I did not know if they were doctors or soldiers, but a
doctor would not beat me.”

Guess again, Harry thought. “So what
happened?” he asked.

“The men in uniforms beat me first, hit me
very hard and hurt me,” said Istvan and his voice trembled. “Then
Grushenko gave me many drugs. He said that they would change me,
improve me and give hope to the world. I remember lying on a table,
strapped down.”

Anastasia gave a snort of disgust and took a
step back, arms folded across her chest. “Let me guess, they
strapped you down, didn’t let you answer nature’s call and tried to
wipe your memory.”

Confusion reigned on Istvan’s face. “What
does nature’s call mean?” he asked.

“Going to the bathroom,” Harry whispered.

“Oh.”

Istvan’s pink face turned even pinker,
perhaps out of embarrassment or shame. Thinking about it, Harry
figured that it was probably both.

The little pig-man cleared his throat
noisily. “Yes,” he finally said and his voice became choked with
the pain of remembrance. “I lay in my filth and stank like pig and
became one. I always remember, though. I always remember. Grushenko
said he wanted me to think about what I was becoming.” He blinked
as if remembering something else. “The doctor also had a kind of
tube he used.”

Istvan threw up a series of gestures with his
hooves. Clumsy as they were, they clearly meant one thing.
Grushenko had used the Genesis Chamber. “So they turned you into,
er, what you are?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” This time, tears ran in rivers from
the little man’s eyes down his moon-shaped face. “Yes, they made me
this. There were others, too. Maybe thirty or more, I do not know
for sure.”

“How’d you get out?” Anastasia asked.

Istvan remained silent, his tongue working
overtime around his thin lips. When he spoke again, his voice came
out with anguish lacing every word. “In that place, I heard stories
of one person in America. She escaped and came here.” He looked at
Anastasia. “It was you.”

“Me?” asked Anastasia. Her eyes grew round
with astonishment. “How did they know?”

A shrug came from his narrow shoulders. “I do
not know, but the other prisoners, once we were changed, the guards
put us in separate prison rooms and sometimes talked to each other.
A guard told one of them and,” he shrugged again, “if one knows,
then all know.”

Istvan’s story continued. The experiments
continued and used all sorts of animal/human combinations. Pigs,
elk, falcons’ DNA and more were combined with that of humans. Each
time, the Genesis Chamber had been used. The results were startling
in all cases, successes in some and too horrific for words in
others. Many died, but many lived.

“There was one who lived, a prisoner who
called himself Szabo,” Istvan said. “I do not know his full name.
He say he is Hungarian, like me. I do not know where he come, er,
came from. I only know that he was large, very large and had hatred
of everyone. He killed three guards before Grushenko changed him.
He started fire one day in the complex, but Grushenko escaped. So
did some of the other changed people. I ran when fire started,
heard about commercial plane going to America and how you say,
stowaway?”

He smiled for the first time, which revealed
a set of small white teeth. “I was a stowaway and I come to New
York. There, I do not know any people, but I know how to hide. I
saw news on television, see about people like me and listen. Then I
find you.” Gradually, his voice wound down and he sat on the floor,
staring at the wall.

Harry sat back and considered all the
details. The experiments were ongoing, in Hungary and Russia, if
not elsewhere. This had to be the craziest thing going, yet it was
all true and it was happening here and now. “So you found us
here?”

Istvan scratched his head with his hoof.
While he was still human looking for the most part, it seemed the
kind of move an animal would make. “I have good sense of smell.
That is all. I can smell odors from long way away. I have no
strength and I cannot fly. But I can smell difference in people and
animals. You are both and neither, like me. I know that smell.”

Their discussion got interrupted by a knock
on the door. Harry opened up and a different agent stood there, a
short, stocky black man with a face like a cement block. Istvan
immediately scuttled over to Anastasia’s side and remained there,
quivering in fear.

As for the agent, he gave Istvan a passing
glance before switching his gaze to Harry. “We got in touch with
Agent Farrell. He’ll be here in the morning. We’re going to keep
watch over you tonight and no, you don’t have a say in this. Those
are Farrell’s orders.”

Harry wanted to protest, but they had the
guns and the authority. The taller agent came in, locked the door
and put a chair beside it. He took a seat while his counterpart
walked to the rear entrance to keep watch from the vantage point of
the lone window. With a quick move, he took out his pistol, ejected
the ammo clip to check it and then shoved it back in.

“I guess we’re stuck here for now,” Anastasia
said with a note of resignation. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m
going to go to bed.”

She got off the couch and started to walk
into the bedroom, but the taller agent’s voice interrupted her
journey. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Over there,” Anastasia pointed at the
bedroom. “I sleep in a bed, remember? I don’t curl up by the fire
or on the window sill.”

Her caustic reply caused Harry to snicker.
The agent was not amused. “Sorry, but it’s better to stay together.
You don’t know what else is out there.”

“You mean the people you couldn’t catch?” she
asked. This time Harry and Istvan burst out laughing.

The agent’s face turned red. “Yeah, the
people we couldn’t catch. It’s for your protection.”