Read Online Frankenstorm: Chaos Theory by Ray Garton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ray Garton
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leadership qualities in addition to your talents as a scientist, but not anymore. You’ve made that clear with this disaster.”
“You are not going to lay this at my feet! The biggest problem here from the beginning has been Fara. And now she’s talking about going public with her story. She claims she’s sent some recording to that radio host I told you about. If you want to blast somebody on this team, it should be her .”
“She’s not in charge of the project. You are. You should stop thinking of yourself as irreplaceable. You’re not that Dr. Jeremy Corcoran anymore.”
“Then . . . then what Jeremy Corcoran am I? I’m still the Jeremy Corcoran who did all those great things for you, those things others laughed at when you told them what you wanted. And some of those things . . .” He leaned forward, put an elbow on the desk and his forehead in his hand. When he continued, it was in a whisper. “Some of them were terrible things. What I did to those people in that little Italian village. The things you’ve had me do to our own soldiers. And those children. My God, what you had me to do to all those children you kept in cages. Cages ! I mean, Jesus, it’s almost funny, it’s almost hilarious ”—he giggled—“that you’re ragging on me for doing some drugs !” More giggling. “It doesn’t make sense. You guys? Children in cages, drugging people, messing with their minds without their knowledge, putting things in the water supply. Me? I like drugs and I enjoy sex with one or more people at once, as much of it as possible, preferably while using drugs. But I’m the bad guy here? Me ?”
“You’re looking at it the wrong way. No one is saying you’re a bad guy. We never minded the drugs as long as you remained useful to us. But now the drugs have destroyed in you whatever it was that was useful to us. Do you understand? It’s simply a matter of . . . moving on. And there’s plenty of young talent out there, don’t make the mistake of thinking there’s not. Most of it is coming from Asia, but it’s out there in abundance. You are no longer able to fulfill our needs, so we have to look elsewhere. In fact . . . I think it’s time for retirement, Jeremy.”
Gooseflesh crawled across Corcoran’s shoulders and upper back and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood erect and his scrotum shriveled up tight until his testicles were snugly tucked away. He had been working for these people most of his adult life. He’d done plenty of other work as well, of course, but working for Vendon and DeCamp was how he’d made most of his money, and it was on that work that most of his reputation was based. He knew these people, he knew how they thought, how they worked. He knew about enough of the cold, cruel things they did to get what they wanted to know that all the stuff he didn’t know about was far worse.
When dealing with these people, the word “retirement” could be taken in more than one way.
“What, uh . . . what kind of retirement do you mean . . . exactly?”
“What kind of retirement do you think I mean, Jeremy?”
When he did not respond, the voice at the other end chuckled.
“Have the test subjects been contained in the building, Jeremy?”
“As far as I know. So far.”
“Encouraging. That must be the goal of everyone there, do you understand? Keeping those people inside the hospital until we get there.”
“We? You’re coming here? When?”
“You’re in the middle of a hurricane right now, but the moment the weather calms down sufficiently, we’ll be sending in a team to solve the problem and . . . clean up this mess.”
Corcoran found that he had no saliva left in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around, then tried to swallow, but gulped loudly instead.
“The problem?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Which . . . problem?”
“The problem we’ve been discussing, of course. You see? You’re difficult to talk to when you’re on drugs, Jeremy. It makes you . . .
“You are not going to lay this at my feet! The biggest problem here from the beginning has been Fara. And now she’s talking about going public with her story. She claims she’s sent some recording to that radio host I told you about. If you want to blast somebody on this team, it should be her .”
“She’s not in charge of the project. You are. You should stop thinking of yourself as irreplaceable. You’re not that Dr. Jeremy Corcoran anymore.”
“Then . . . then what Jeremy Corcoran am I? I’m still the Jeremy Corcoran who did all those great things for you, those things others laughed at when you told them what you wanted. And some of those things . . .” He leaned forward, put an elbow on the desk and his forehead in his hand. When he continued, it was in a whisper. “Some of them were terrible things. What I did to those people in that little Italian village. The things you’ve had me do to our own soldiers. And those children. My God, what you had me to do to all those children you kept in cages. Cages ! I mean, Jesus, it’s almost funny, it’s almost hilarious ”—he giggled—“that you’re ragging on me for doing some drugs !” More giggling. “It doesn’t make sense. You guys? Children in cages, drugging people, messing with their minds without their knowledge, putting things in the water supply. Me? I like drugs and I enjoy sex with one or more people at once, as much of it as possible, preferably while using drugs. But I’m the bad guy here? Me ?”
“You’re looking at it the wrong way. No one is saying you’re a bad guy. We never minded the drugs as long as you remained useful to us. But now the drugs have destroyed in you whatever it was that was useful to us. Do you understand? It’s simply a matter of . . . moving on. And there’s plenty of young talent out there, don’t make the mistake of thinking there’s not. Most of it is coming from Asia, but it’s out there in abundance. You are no longer able to fulfill our needs, so we have to look elsewhere. In fact . . . I think it’s time for retirement, Jeremy.”
Gooseflesh crawled across Corcoran’s shoulders and upper back and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood erect and his scrotum shriveled up tight until his testicles were snugly tucked away. He had been working for these people most of his adult life. He’d done plenty of other work as well, of course, but working for Vendon and DeCamp was how he’d made most of his money, and it was on that work that most of his reputation was based. He knew these people, he knew how they thought, how they worked. He knew about enough of the cold, cruel things they did to get what they wanted to know that all the stuff he didn’t know about was far worse.
When dealing with these people, the word “retirement” could be taken in more than one way.
“What, uh . . . what kind of retirement do you mean . . . exactly?”
“What kind of retirement do you think I mean, Jeremy?”
When he did not respond, the voice at the other end chuckled.
“Have the test subjects been contained in the building, Jeremy?”
“As far as I know. So far.”
“Encouraging. That must be the goal of everyone there, do you understand? Keeping those people inside the hospital until we get there.”
“We? You’re coming here? When?”
“You’re in the middle of a hurricane right now, but the moment the weather calms down sufficiently, we’ll be sending in a team to solve the problem and . . . clean up this mess.”
Corcoran found that he had no saliva left in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around, then tried to swallow, but gulped loudly instead.
“The problem?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Which . . . problem?”
“The problem we’ve been discussing, of course. You see? You’re difficult to talk to when you’re on drugs, Jeremy. It makes you . . .
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