>
> G
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for: calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest? You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!" I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then. Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver. He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess. Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected. Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer, which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about. The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there. Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments; I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it. Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule, and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out. I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid. I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials. What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real. So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape. Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again. And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy. But
> doable.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things. All that matters is the endless
> duel - computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them. Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching. This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it. I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
> At a glance, Ken Masters looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country; he's around five-ten and
> buffed, with long reddish-gold hair and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens), but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though. I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed. I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most. He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance". (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch. Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup? Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog. Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise. Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry? No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness, if
> not the smile.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison. Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie, but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window," replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down. Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC. Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back, and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps, but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves." He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast, but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds, you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66. "Charlie,
> it's for you."
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer. "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened. "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room, "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben. "You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious). Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
>