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Parasite is the third part of The Underground series

Chapter 6 of 29

Daughter Of The Earth And Sky

"It started out as an experiment. All the Goddamn catastrophes always start out as experiments." The black and white cat explained, eyes focused on his glass of whiskey. He shook his head, looking disgusted. "After the last recession, when our economy about bottomed out, they started developing programs that would monitor transactions, mortgages, the market, everything. The idea was to try and head off potential problems before it was too late." Trilby shrugged. "A computer doesn't know politics, doesn't care about it's own personal gain, its function was basic: find the most efficient way to allot the nations funds and make sure nothing was being abused. Then they tried to make it self sufficient."

Both Alias and Jenna sat at their small kitchen table as Trilby laid it down. Jenna had read the hesitation in Alias's eyes when he invited Trilby back to their apartment on Grinstead Avenue. However, in the back of both of their minds, they knew they had little option other than accepting, or at the very least, hearing what Trilby had on his mind. Both Jenna and Alias felt about as comfortable helping Isis pull this job as they would be calling Xen Hets up and letting him know where they were living. But right now, they both were thinking the same thing. They both knew how cornered they were.

Facts on the ground.

"They developed a program, they named it "Isis"." Trilby continued.

"After the goddess?" Jenna asked from across the table, next to Alias.

"Very good, my dear." Trilby replied, nodding his approval. "Goddess of fertility. What a fucking joke..." His voice trailed off, and his good eye looked angered. "They wanted something that could run itself. But since people are so unpredictable, especially with their money, any program written was obsolete by the next week. They wanted something that could adapt and change. However limited, Isis became the first true artificial intelligence construct introduced into the public domain."

"That one didn't make the papers..." Trilby heard Alias mutter, glass of Scotch in his paw. "Guess you weren't ready to let people know who was really looking over their shoulder."

"Don't look at me like that." Trilby spat. "I didn't know about it until it became a problem. Part of the OCB's job is to monitor illegal financial transactions, it's how we nail mobs and the other wackjob organizations. What shocked us was when we found these discrepancies in the Exchange Commission. Isis was hoarding funds, then laundering them in private offshore accounts. By the time we figured out she was trying to liquidate the Federal Reserve, we were almost too late. God only knows her reasons." The feline paused, taking a swig from his glass. "Tom Bauer gave us the order to shut down the project, put me in as lead agent on the investigation.

"Senator Bauer?" Alias asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's a heavy name on Capital Hill. He's with the OCB?"

Trilby nodded. "He's the one who spearheaded the organization. By the time we had a subpoena to impound the Isis Program's servers, the damn thing was gone before we could get to it! It monitored our channels, then started bouncing around from database to database. Used anything from server farms to academic institutions."

"How does that even work?" Jenna piped in. Alias had noticed her taking a particular interest in all this. "I mean, a program of that magnitude would be huge... running trillions of evolutionary algorithms per second, how could any public database house something like that?"

Trilby could only shake his head at this. "My dear, I couldn't tell you the specifics of the Isis program. They wouldn't release the files to us. All we knew was that we were supposed to track it down and keep it from going anywhere. What I do know is that Isis has the ability to compress itself by isolating certain lines of code, making itself as a whole a simpler, more compact program."

"Time out for a second." Alias's dark voice cut through the conversation. He tilted the decagonal glass in his paw backward against his muzzle, taking in the tan liquid. "We're talking about a computer program here."

"Artificial intelligence." Jenna corrected.

"Whatever." Alias replied, sounding annoyed. "Point is, you're claiming that this person, your wife, is working for a computer program? In what world does that make sense?"

"It doesn't because that's not what I'm claiming." Trilby shot back, glaring at the black fox with his good eye. "What I'm claiming is much more ridiculous. She is the computer program, and that's not my wife." He shook his head. "Isis is just wearing her fur."

Both Alias and Jenna stared at the one eyed feline for a moment, then looked at each other in question.

"Wait a minute, are you saying-"

"I'm saying Isis imprinted itself on Leigh's consciousness." Trilby explained. "The process was meant for me. I was supposed to be used as Isis's avatar, she'd assume my identity to close her case, meanwhile completing her overall objective." He shook his head, closing his one eye slowly, looking exasperated. "We didn't know what kind of network she had already started to build in The Underground, but it went beyond anything the OCB predicted." At this, Trilby paused pensively.

"She had access to weapons and technology that isn't even supposed to exist. The machine that was used to infect my wife was only an experimental virtual reality simulator, taking a mind into cyberspace. Somehow she found a way to reverse the process, bringing an A.I. into the physical realm of existence." The dark feline shook his head. "Her men jumped me outside the OCB parking garage and brought me back to her. When I refused to go through with the process willingly, they used Leigh as leverage." Alias's dry, exhausted eyes blinked, waiting for the rest. "My wife, she... sacrificed herself to give me a chance to stop Isis. While I was in recovery, Isis assumed my wife's identity. By the time I got OCB to believe my story... she was gone." As he spoke, Alias couldn't help but notice Trilby's paw starting to tremble only slightly; his single eye seemed far away. "It infected her body leaving Leigh in a comatose state. Meanwhile, Isis assumed all motor functions. Think of it as the most fucked whole-body transplant ever." He scoffed and shook his head. "A bunch of little one's and zero's are using her body like a puppet." His paw moved inside his black suit-coat and produced an open pack of cigarettes, tapping it against his paw. "Do you mind?" He asked in a low tone.

Alias shook his head, still feeling a little beside himself. "Not at all..."

"Can you prove any of this?" Jenna asked slowly, brow furrowed.

"Absolutely." Trilby replied, popping open his Zippo and striking a flame. "Case files, witness reports, even have the schematics of the machine used to transfer Isis into Leigh's body. It was confirmed by the OCB, then classified beyond top secret. They say I got obsessed, and maybe I am, because I'm still chasing her. In the end, they benched me, forced me into retirement." He explained as he held the Zippo's flame to the cig and breathed in, causing it to light.

"So you want to kill her then?" Jenna asked scowling. "You want us to kill your... wife?" She asked, uncertain

"Isis at this point, and no." Trilby said, shaking his head from side to side slowly.

"Then what?" Alias picked up. "You said so yourself, she's dangerous. This bitch knows stuff about us. You think I want her talking to the OCB?"

"Isis won't have the chance to divulge anything to the OCB, because I'm bringing Leigh back, Alias."

This caused Alias to laugh in a rather mean way. "Why don't you save us all some trouble? Let me put her down the right way."

Trilby simply ignored his comment. "I had something cooked up that might work. I ran into a scientist who studies how genetic memory works. This guy knows his shit, and he concocted a serum that might bring Leigh out of whatever trance Isis put her in."

"So, you're not even sure you can save her." Alias replied, this time without any tone, but simply as a statement.

"The doctor I ran across, Robert Openshaw, seemed fairly confident in his work, so I have no reason not to try really."

The mention of the name suddenly had Jenna's and Alias's undivided attention. The fog in Alias's mind due to lack of sleep cleared almost instantly. "What did you just say?" Alias asked, standing up. How many genetic scientists named Openshaw could there be? For the umpteenth time Alias was blind-sided by Trilby. However, his mind suddenly went a different route. This could be the break he and Jenna had been waiting for. Their searches for Openshaw until now were proving rather fruitless. They only managed to datamine a lot of his background history, but nothing that could point them in a direction of where he could have fled.

"How long ago was this? Where does he come into all this? He's a what? A geneticist?" With renewed interest Alias started shooting off questions faster than Trilby could reply. He could feel the urgency building up inside himself. "You're talking about Robert K. Openshaw, right? The guy who cured that one disease..." He turned to Jenna for help. "What was it? Grider Syndrome?"

A flash of hope resonated throughout Alias as Trilby nodded. "The very same one." The feline confirmed. "Friend of a friend turned me onto him. Of course he's dead now, but-"

"Bullshit, we both know he's still alive." Alias cut him off.

Trilby then raised and eyebrow suspiciously. "And why would you think that?" He asked in a grave tone.

"Because I helped him fake his death..." He then reconsidered his words. "Well, I provided the means anyway."

"I've known Rob for a few years now. Dr. Openshaw came to me a few weeks ago, asking for my help in disappearing. What's your business with him?"

"That's not your concern." Alias replied shortly. "We have things to discuss, and if you know where he is, I need to know."

Trilby didn't say anything for a few seconds, and took a long drag of his cigarette. "Your business is your own, that's fair enough, so long as no harm comes to him." Trilby proposed. "I owe him that much."

"I don't have any plans on hurting him." Alias replied. "If I wanted to kill him, he'd already be dead. I would have put two in his head and not his fireplace mantle."

"Look, he's a jack of all trades. This is just me, but I think he's some kind of genius, like legitimately a genius." The middle-aged agent explained, taking a deep draw on his smoking cigarette, causing the end to glow a fiery orange. "Let me set something straight, I don't want to kill Isis, even though I've considered it, a lot even. But it's an all or nothing deal. If I kill Isis, I'll kill Leigh. I went to the ends of the earth looking for some way to reverse this. I stumbled upon Openshaw because of his research into the collective unconscious." As Trilby spoke, smoke escaped his mouth in regular intervals. "He believed that in addition to our ancestors experiences and whatnot being passed down genetically, we are constantly forming new genes from new experiences to be passed in our own genetic memory." Trilby stared back at Alias and Jenna who both were looking back at him with raised eyebrows. He had clearly gone over both of their heads. "Alright look, basically, our lives are encoded on our DNA. In his studies, he developed a serum, something he called Tabula Rasa, and basically what it does is default us back to the DNA we had at a certain point. Openshaw went on about how you could synthesize it to delete certain memories and keep others. He taylor-made a serum for Leigh based off her blood sample."

Alias nodded his head slowly, taking all this in. His head was still swimming a bit from everything. It all sounded like some kind of terrible science fiction novel an independent author would post on the internet.

He set his Scotch glass back down on the table. "So, you shoot Isis up with this stuff and you'll get your wife back?"

"I'll shoot Leigh up with Openshaw's concoction." Trilby emphasized his wife's name, not recognizing Isis as a person. "In theory, yes I should get her back. Nothing's certain." The black and white feline laid down.

Jenna shrugged. "Isis has shown herself, why don't you move in?" She asked. "Why this elaborate sting operation?"

"There are those," Trilby replied, rubbing his forehead gently, "that wouldn't mind having her back in her present form. Regardless that she's feeding off my wife's body, Isis's knowledge and understanding of finance and business far surpasses any of us. Then there's the scientific reasons why they want her brought in... the medical reasons..."

"Jesus... they're going to treat her like a slab of meat." Jenna said aloud, forehead twisted in a scowl of revulsion.

"Why not?" Trilby asked sardonically. "She's not their wife; she's an asset. Leigh can't speak for herself anymore. Stick her in a straightjacket, say she's insane. Unless you know about the Isis Project, who'd be the wiser?" Again, he raised the burning tobacco to his lips. This time his draw was much longer than before. "She's had these plans on moving a dirty bomb for years now. Problem is, we don' know who she's planning on selling it to. If they're going to destroy a project that cost a couple billion in R&D, they want a good reason. Government Agencies don't exactly factor in personal feelings on issues, but the OCB still has orders to destroy Isis. If I can convince them Isis is a serious threat in her current form, they'll move in. Tom Bauer gave me his word they'd try Openshaw's method first and not cart her off to some facility where Leigh would be poked and prodded for the rest of her life. If you can give me a time and date when she's moving this bomb, OCB will make sure she's not your problem anymore." He paused, letting this sink in.

Raising his Scotch to his lips, Alias took a small drink, thinking. "You're pretty trusting of your old employers... especially after they gave you the shaft for trying to get Leigh back."

Trilby nodded. "Maybe... but I still have my people on the inside... Tell you what, think it over." Trilby said, pinning his cig between his lips. " You want Openshaw, I can find him for you, but you've got to help me first."

"And if I change my mind?" Alias asked. "You're throwing a lot of 'what-if's' at me."

"Then I must face Isis alone, your friend will probably get killed when Isis blows the dirty bomb, and you'll have to find Openshaw on your own." He reached into his pocket where he had retrieved his cigarettes but pulled out a piece of paper. "I'll be here at six tomorrow morning. I'll wait until seven. If you agree, show up and we'll get to work."

He held out the paper with the meeting place, to which Alias accepted, setting it down on the table. Half way to the door, Trilby stopped, looking back at them. "I know you probably think I'm just a crazy old man." He said slowly. "But how far would you go to bring back someone you care about?" He asked, looking rugged with the one eye. Without another word, Trilby moved from the kitchen. The last sound he made was shutting the door on the way out.

Jenna looked over at Alias who was still rather shellshocked by everything. "That was..."

"Yep..." Alias nodded, taking a seat next to her once again.

"What do you think you'll do?" Jenna asked, placing her paw on the paper so she could read the address.

"Well, we've all taken a train straight to fuckville and I don't know of a better way to find Openshaw." The Mercenary shrugged. "If you have any aces up your sleeve, now would be the time."

"I'm tapped." The vixen replied, looking defeated. "I guess it'll be just another job, right?"

"I guess." Alias replied shrugging once again. What a night this turned out to be. "I don't know. Working with the OCB, even unofficially, makes me uncomfortable. It's their primary goal to go after people like me; The Underground. Not to mention, the double agent game is a risky one. Rarely ends well." As if he was watching TV or something, the black fox's own words suddenly hit him, and he shook his head. "But if there's one rule that's always true, it's that it's rare that you find an employer you like."

"Just like a prostitute, huh?" Jenna asked, chin cupped in her right paw, propped up by the table.

Alias rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I feel like I get fucked more than most hookers do. Point being, it's not like I'm here to make friends with the guy. He's got what I want, and it's not the first time I've danced with the devil, and probably won't be the last. Prime example-"

"Xen Hets."

He nodded slowly, eyes focused on the table in front of him. "Not my proudest moments, but sometimes you've got to play the game."

The black fox grew quiet after this. His mind replayed the conversation he just had, going over some of the details of Trilby's claims. Regardless if he was telling the truth or not, this chick was bad news. Then again, why would a grown cat, such as Trilby, make up something like that? You can't just make something like that up on a whim, and he was willing to even provide documented evidence. His mind soon began wandering, thinking of Openshaw and this supposed Tabula Rasa and it's implications.

"Hey..." A soft distant voice called out to him.

Alias's tired, red eyes blinked, coming back to reality. He looked across the table at Jenna who sat there, sides of her indigo hair pulled into a halfback, uncomfortable, yet revealing delirium outfit on.

"You still with me?" She asked him.

"Yeah, just thinking..." He replied slowly. "Openshaw has a drug that can wipe your genes clean... clear out all your experiences... possibly even memories..."

Jenna paused for a second, then leaned forward in her chair. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." Alias said simply. "Just an interesting concept, that's all."

This also led down another line of thought. If Openshaw was capable of clearing out genes, what else could the Doctor be capable of? He was able to remove memories and experiences, so did that mean the opposite could be done as well? Could he program someone to perform certain tasks, or hardwire them with certain skills? Say perhaps, the ability to field strip any form of firearm? Perhaps even the knowledge of a menagerie of martial art skills?

Alias knew he could sit around and speculate all day, but the fact was he wouldn't have any answers until he found Openshaw. Sure, he could go catch up with Trilby, beat the hell out of him until he talked, but something about the one-eyed feline told him that he had seen enough suffering and misery that no amount of interrogation would break him. Looking into his remaining eye, Alias saw that same trait of learned helplessness he himself had once developed. That look of utter desperation where you felt you had nothing left to lose.

Jenna stood up from the table, moving to a cabinet and grabbed a tall glass to fill with water.

Only Alias didn't have nothing to lose anymore. That, in and of itself, was both a terrifying and comforting concept all at the same time.

"Do you think he's insane?" Jenna asked sounding like it was asked as an honest question, and not her being herself.

Shaking his head, Alias exhaled slowly. "No..." He replied thinking. "No, I really don't."

"What about a trap?"

This was a different story. It wouldn't be the first time an employer had tested his loyalty. He had been placed in situations where an employer would actually have one of their own counter-offer Alias. They would present a plan to take whomever had hired Alias down. It was a good possibility Isis could be testing them, but Trilby's OCB credentials looked pretty authentic. A fake like that would cost a small fortune to acquire.

"Possible." He replied, his eyes following Jenna as she sat down with her water glass opposite him. "This is the way I see it." Alias continued, considering all options. In The Underground nothing was what it seemed. "I can still meet Trilby tomorrow. Maybe it is Isis fucking with us, I don't know." He shrugged. "But at least I can meet him, and if it's a setup, I can just say I was meeting with him to see what he wanted, and had every intention of reporting back to Isis to give a heads-up."

"Triple agent, huh?" Jenna asked, shaking her head. "This stuff just gets too complicated."

Regardless of Trilby's intentions, if he were meeting the agent at six, that meant he only had a few hours to get some sleep...

His own thoughts registered in his mind. That was a joke. His sleeplessness had graduated from minor annoyance to full blown chronic insomnia. He knew that at this point, after everything that had happened today, there was no way he was getting any rest. Even with his eyelids heavy and his mind suffering from mental exhaustion, there was no comfort to be found. Trying to sleep would only escalate his frustration, and in the end, waste time he could be using to prepare for the coming operations.

"So, six in the morning then?" Jenna asked, finishing her water and setting the glass near the metal sink.

"You game?" He asked her, to which she nodded her reply. "Then I've got work to do."

Getting up from the table, he walked over to a far cabinet, opening the door. Reaching inside, he pulled out several black pistols, two nine millimeters with their fancy, curvy design, as well as a couple of forty-fives, which were larger and more boxy. He set them down on the table, then reached into the drawer below where the apartment's microwave was placed, pulling out a small bottle of oil. Proper gun maintenance was a must. There rarely went a day that he wouldn't clean his guns, especially if they were stored in a musty cabinet where dust could easily find resting places in their finely greased parts.

He felt Jenna's eyes upon him as he grabbed one of the nines, pulling the slide back and releasing the magazine from the handle, racking the weapon as he set it down on the table. Following almost a set of blueprints that seemed to be burned into his head, he rotated the M9 in his paws, pressing a small button closer to the end of the barrel, while flipping a small switch to a vertical position on the opposite side. Then releasing the slide, pulled it forward, separating the slide from the grip with ease.

"Someday, you need to show me how to do that." He heard Jenna say to him.

The Mercenary laughed slightly, still concentrating on his work. "What happened to guns being the scourge of society?" He asked her.

Jenna shrugged. "Well, I still don't have a high opinion of them, but I think my perspective has changed a bit."

"We'll make an Underground girl out of you yet, you milk carton." Alias replied in a monotone voice, however a smile crept over his muzzle.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." The vixen replied in a dismissive tone, as she had learned to hate the condescending term. "Not everyone can survive on two hours of sleep, so I'll see you..." she looked over at a clock, noticing it was nearly three in the morning, "wow, I guess later on this morning." She finished, starting to walk to her room.

"Hey, Jen." Alias called to her. Jenna looked over her shoulder. Her neck length indigo hair, complementary to her dark blue fur, flowed in a slight delayed reaction to her movements. "Sorry I freaked out earlier." Alias apologized, nodding slightly. "We'll get through this... just like we've gotten through all the other bullshit we've had thrown at us."

Jenna simply stood there for a moment, a slight shimmer returning in her eyes. Slowly her head moved up and down in a slow nod.

"Never had a doubt really." She replied with a smile. Then slowly Jenna walked into her room, shutting the door to keep out the light from the rest of their apartment for a few hours of much needed rest on her end.