Three of Five, Chapter 50

[melo_annechen]

Chapter Fifty

Dawn was breaking as Charlotte dragged back to the loft. “Good morning, Doctor Bowman,” 2875 greeted her as she crossed the courtyard. He relieved her of the burden of her box, and asked, “How is your injury?”

“I’m managing. Do you have any tasks this morning? I could use some assistance, if you‘re available.” Charlotte headed for the elevator, as she was fatigued enough to not take the stairs. “I have some reports that need to get to the professor as soon as I can get them finished.”

“I’ll check with Madame for breakfast, and you get settled in.” 2875 left the box on her desk and left, locking the door as he went. Charlotte sat at her desk, pulled on the visor for her topless computer, selected a disc and began editing.

Tw’eight returned to the loft minutes later with a cooler and a hamper. “I have as much of the day off as needed to deal with my family emergency, so I can assist you until midnight if you require it.” He began to unpack the food as Charlotte saved her report and started the printout. “This will take a few moments, would you care for tea?”

“Thank you, Tw’eight. I wish you did not fabricate the excuse of a ‘family emergency’ to help me, though.” She sat at the table with a good view of the kitchen. “Your help is appreciated, but I don’t want to get in trouble because of me.”

Tw‘eight bustled about the kitchen, starting the tea to brew, and starting breakfast, “My stepmother needs my help, no falsification needed.” He worked in silence for the three minutes the tea needed to brew, and turned to serve her. “Are you in pain, Dr. Bowman?”

She blinked rapidly and sniffled, “No more than usual, Tw’eight. You may need to drop that designation if you continue to associate with the lab.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I have to; I’ve gotten too close to him without being myself.” She was startled by Tw’eight starting a propane torch.

“You’ve been yourself,” he said as he melted the sugar on top of the crème brûlée from the hamper. “The only things you have held back are your emotional reactions, which is SOP for you, and your name.” He shut off the torch, and placed the dessert before her. “Life is uncertain, and when humans are involved, there is no such thing as a sure thing.”

>>>>

“I have a delivery from Dr. Bowman,” Tw’eight announced at the front door of the lab.

“You have something for Charlotte?” Lovelace asked as she opened the door. “I’ll take it, she isn’t awake yet.” She sent her mobile peripheral to the entrance to meet Tw’eight.

“She was at her loft when I left five minutes ago.” Tw’eight responded. “She asked that I deliver these documents to the lab.” He handed over the box and left.

Lovelace carried the box to a containment unit and had begun the scans when the professor woke, and on entering the living room, asked, “Good morning, Lovelace. Is Charlotte awake yet?”

She responded by the speakers in the professor’s apartment, “Before 2875 showed up, I would have said she was with you. She has left the building; I am scanning my door logs, and she did not leave by any exit I monitor.”

“What do you mean, you thought she was with me?” Lupin crossed his bedroom to the door of his library, checking the lock. It has not been accessed in the past week.

“Last night, she was restless, and I thought I had convinced her to talk to you. Now scanning,” Lovelace paused, her mobile peripheral freezing as she completed the scan of all logs. “Five minutes after I let her into your room and discontinued monitoring that section, there was a radio signal of point-three-seconds duration, and an energy signature I do not recognize.”

“You CEASED monitoring?” Madblood asked, his eyebrows climbing his forehead.

“Well, DUH - I wasn’t going to be a voyeur. I thought any assault she would make on your person would be one you would welcome. I don’t know what she saw in you, but apparently she thought better of it.”

Madblood asked, “Wait - she was in my room last night?” He murmured to himself, “I wasn’t dreaming?”

“Yes, and she was really nervous. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared her off,” Lovelace said as Sela and Arsène entered the living room.

"Well, I am sorry, but it’s awfully damned hard for a starving man to follow proper etiquette when presented with a banquet,” Lupin growled. “I had no idea it was her… but she did say she shouldn‘t be here.” He paced the living room angrily.

“She was trying to leave the least damage, I think,” Sela responded. “And to continue with your analogy: Charlotte is a victim of repeated poisonings, and is therefore skittish. I think she is also starving, but almost every time she has been given a feast, it nearly killed her.”

Madblood sobered, stopped pacing and asked, “Alexandra?”

Lovelace added “And Robin, Suzie and to some extent, George.” Her mobile peripheral entered the room carrying the box. “She seems to have a talent for finding matches for everyone but herself.” She placed it on the table, and sighed. “This is the package she sent by way of Tw’eight this morning. I have scanned it for the registered poisons and explosives, but it’s clean.”

Sela looked in the box, and then began frantically sorting through the manila document packets, “Oh, no - she hasn’t… oh static, she has…”

Arsène joined her in sorting through the packets and said, “They’re all here - this is not right. Did she not keep any of them?”

Lupin did not approach them, but asked, “What did she send?”

Sela turned to him, her face drawn, and held out the packets. “Her identities, sir - all fifty-three of them.” A smaller, business-sized envelope slipped from her grasp, and landed at the professor’s feet.

He picked up the envelope, which was addressed formally to him, as the head of the lab. He turned it over, noting a rust-colored thumbprint over the flap. He blindly held out his hand, about to ask for a letter opener, when Lovelace placed the handle of a pen knife in his hand. There was one sheet of heavy paper and a second envelope, with only ’Lupin’ handwritten on it, inside. Unfolding the single sheet, he scanned the letter, stopping cold at the second paragraph: I must regretfully resign my position at Madblood Robotics. Due to my actions which were not workplace-appropriate, I have violated the intent of the contract I signed September 30... Lupin had trouble focusing. “Sela, could you…” he handed the letter to her.

Sela scanned the letter, and muttered, “What the frink does she think she is doing?” She then addressed the professor, “I’ll have the coffee ready in a few minutes. Go take a shower, and we’ll figure out how to fix this after breakfast.”

Lupin dazedly stared at her, and finally said, “Wait - fix what?”

Sela smiled, and replied, “To quote an Air Force axiom, ‘the difficult we do immediately; the impossible takes a little longer.’ Go on, we’ll get everything set up.”

>>>>

At breakfast, Lovelace began her usual recitation of the professor’s schedule for the day, and Lupin almost cancelled the action when she said, “The only firm appointment you have today is the home visit by Officer Giles.”

Lupin consciously stopped himself from saying ‘What?’ again. I’m beginning to sound like a demented parrot, he thought. “This is a new appointment,” he stated listlessly. He poked at the cooling remains of his breakfast disinterestedly.

“He called to reschedule your Wednesday afternoon, and I suggested a Saturday morning here. Even with your late arrival last night, I had hoped you would be able to manage. I can call…”

“No, wait-” Arsène said, “Officer Giles could help, and we may need another perspective.” He then asked Sela, “What do you think, cara mia?”

Sela nodded, smiling, and said, “Considering what else she sent - yeah, that’ll work.”

>>>>

“So, Tasha finally came out of hiding.” Officer Giles said after reading the official resignation letter.

"Am I the only one in this city that DIDN'T know who she is?” Lupin was not about to let go of the note on her personal stationary. Even if he never read it, he wasn't going to let anyone else read it first.

"No, but I think you have managed to run into everyone in town that would recognize her. I had no idea she was back until she brought you to the office for your meeting last fall. The only reason I know her is my dad is still in charge of security for the Tinasky home school program.” Thomas chuckled. "I’ve gotten to tag along on some fairly interesting field trips.”

"I think you should see this, then.” Lupin tossed the folio containing the Tinasky III study information onto the table and put his face in his hands.

Thomas read the introduction, scanned the bulk of the information, and when he got to the discontinuance statement, his eyebrows shot up. After rereading several portions, he put the folder down and quietly said, "I am going to ask you some serious questions, and I want you to give some thought to your answers. What are you going to do now?”

"I honestly don't know.” Lupin said without looking up. "I'm angry that I was so cautious, but that's mostly directed at me. Otherwise, I just feel - drained.”

"What about Tasha?”

"What about her? She said she is resigning due to her unprofessional behavior, and for the life of me I have no idea what she's talking about.”

Thomas considered a moment before speaking. “There are a couple of things you need to know about Tasha. The first is that no matter how much of a paper trail she sets up, she is unable to directly lie without having an anxiety attack. I’ve seen her hold off, at most, an hour before breaking down. She can withhold information, and even to some extent misdirect a line of inquiry, but to speak an absolute untruth causes her severe difficulties. Think about any time she has said something you doubt, and if she was able to maintain for the next couple of hours, you can believe anything she said. I can’t help you with anything she didn’t say, though.”

What she didn’t say... “What about what she did not mean to say?” Lupin asked.

“Depends on what state she was in. Best way for any of us to get anything out of her when we were kids was to ask her when she was half-asleep, or that one time we went drinking. Alcohol does not affect her reaction time, or danger assessment abilities, but her discretion goes out the window. You may have noticed she rarely has more than one glass of wine in an evening, and that’s probably because she can’t shut up when she’s plastered.”

“What about if she’s - ill?”

“Can’t recall as I’ve ever seen her get sick. Lastly, and this is really important - did she permit any physical contact other than what formal etiquette would require?”

Lupin groaned.

"Yes or no, Professor - it makes a difference.”

“Yes.” Oh for the love of evil, yes, and now she’s left….

"Dude, you are in for it.” Thomas chuckled as he rose from the table. "Send me an invitation.”

The odd phrase startled Lupin out of his funk, and he dazedly asked, "What?” There's that senile Norwegian Blue again, he thought.

Thomas gathered his briefcase and headed for the door. "She doesn't permit casual physical contact outside of medical procedures or hand-to-hand combat; never has, and last year I would have said she never would. She won't even shake hands unless she knows someone at least a year. Considering what I read, if she let you touch her, the reason she stopped the experiment was because she got too attached to you and doesn't want you to be hurt.”

"What has that to do with an invitation?”

Thomas rolled his eyes, muttering, "Geniuses.” He turned to Lupin and replied, "I have to get going to my next appointment. Don't forget to come by the office next week for your paperwork,” he said over his shoulder as he left.

Lupin opened the note. The handwriting was Charlotte’s neat, economical blend of printing script: “The letter is for the official files. This is for you. I may not have told you the entire truth, but I have lied to you in only one thing. My name is Natasha Davenport. Yes, that Davenport is my parent. My original goal in being hired by you was to observe your interactions with other humans and evaluate your societal interface for research purposes of my own. I had intended to help you reintegrate into the professional community. Unfortunately, I have allowed my personal feelings to affect the process. There is no excuse for my behavior, I'm not even sure I can explain it. I am sorry to have made you uncomfortable by crossing the line. I cannot promise I’ll not do it again, and so I should not return to the lab. Please don’t vent your anger on the others, the fault is mine alone. Never doubt your abilities - you are much more than a passable actor. You made me believe the impossible.” It was signed 'Tasha'.

Sela and Arsène entered the break room as Lupin scanned the study report again quickly. “I - don’t understand. What was impossible?”

“I do not understand the question, sir.” Arsène stated.

“She said I made her believe the impossible, but I’m not finding anything here that is outside the realms of possibility.”

“I do not think she was referring to the study, but the symposium, sir.” Sela responded.

Lupin stared at Sela as he considered her words. “The symposium itself was not remarkable, save for the con we pulled on - but that’s-”

“Impossible, sir?” Sela smiled sadly, “I have been in her hip pocket for months now. If what she wrote to me is any indication, she believes your next move will be to revenge yourself on her. The psychological projection is if you do attack her, she will not defend herself. She has asked that that we help you with anything you plan over any protective orders for her.”

>>>>

She finished the revision of her will and e-mailed it the lawyer’s office. Just as she took off the visor of her no-top, she heard the cardkey lock on her door open. She stood and turned to face the door as a Mark I Madblood Android she did not recognize entered her loft. There was much external cosmetic damage, but the android seemed to be functioning well. “May I help you?”

“Hello, I am 925. You killed my partner, prepare to die.”

She choked on the combination of a bark of laughter and a gasp. “I - I don’t know what you mean.”

“My partner, 753, missed the professor and hit you. The professor ordered the hunt, and 753 has been taken off-line, possibly disassembled, AND IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT. If it weren't for you, 753 would still be active. I am here to exact retribution.”

She couldn‘t help the snarky response of “Your father is going to be so disappointed in you.”

>>>>

“She expects me to exact revenge for your idea, and doesn’t expect to survive a confrontation?” Lupin puzzled. “All because she couldn’t choose her parents? As if I wouldn‘t know one is not a copy of their parental units.”

Arsène cleared his throat unnecessarily. “She may believe you do not wish to associate with her now that her true name has been confirmed or the experiment has been revealed. She may also believe you were able to feign the required reactions for the diversion of Dr. Pescados-Diablo on a - professional - level.”

Lovelace chimed in - “I have corroborating statements from another source that she has extreme difficulty lying, and the phrase ‘she can’t act her way out of a paper bag’ has been used.”

“But, the age difference…” Lupin began.

Lovelace stated “I’ve been going over the information she supplied on the picos. Considering the details there about the treatment for your heart attack, the age difference may not be an issue physically.”

“And as for mentally, her tastes are not standard for her age group - not only does she collect books on paper, she also collects music on vinyl.”" Sela concluded.

Lupin calmly placed the study folio on the table, tucked the note in his shirt pocket and laughed. Not a merry laugh, no - this was the essence of the unholy offspring of science and madness. “I have a plan.”

This was a new and disturbing experience for Sela and Arsène. Lovelace, on the other hand, had the t-shirt. “What are your orders, sir?” she said, carefully keeping her voice neutral.

“First, I need a letter e-mailed to Kirby.” He strode to his office, still talking. "Dictation begins: ’It has come to our attention that Dr Charlotte Bowman has submitted a letter of resignation for the research internship at Madblood Robotics. This action was enacted due to perceptual error, and will not be recognized by the management at Madblood Robotics.’ End dictation, add my signature, and print two hard copies, one for the personnel archives and one for her. Deliver electronic copies to every e-mail address registered to Professor Kirby.” The professor was sorting through the files. “Aha! Here we are! Now listen carefully…”

>>>>

"I am not his lackey. Once I'm done here, I start picking off his supports one by one, letting him know he can't stop us from destroying all that he's built.”

Tasha held the android's gaze, leaning forward slightly to cover the fact she was opening her desk drawer. "Does that include you?”

"We are no longer his chattel.”

"You were created in his image….”

"An image I refused!” 925 shouted, indicating the scars in his exterior.

"All you've done is become the visual representation of his internal emotional damage.” Tasha had no idea where she was going with this; she was saying the first things off the top of her head. Just keep your optics on my face, you hateful mockery, almost there. "With what he's been through, dealing with his madness, the professional engineering community and his mother's illness, he's as scarred within as you are without.” Tasha said as she closed her hand around the taser in the drawer and braced herself.

"I AM NOTHING LIKE HIM!.” 925 shouted as he lunged for Tasha, who rolled out of the way and came up in a fighting stance, holding the taser behind her.

“You and 753 are more like him than you know. Kicking in the traces seems to be a family trait.” Just like baiting homicidal maniacs was her family tradition. It would be just my luck the Davenport saving throw bonus skipped me, she thought. “Choosing the wrong target seems to be your strongest suit, though.” Tasha was circling, hoping it looked like she was going for his blind side, instead of her true goal of trying to reach the kitchen. “I resigned my position at the lab.” It was going to be a stretch, but she was almost in reach of the torch 2875 had used to make the crème brûlée. “I’m nothing to him.”

“He threatened to destroy anything that harmed you – doesn’t sound like you are nothing to the professor.” 925 sneered.

Tasha swallowed as she thought, He meant for that statement throw me off, and it nearly did. “All part of the act – too bad you missed it before the show closed.” She was close enough now to reach it, and hoped it would ignite on the first try – she wasn’t going to get another chance.

“Then why is he bringing the cavalry? Too bad for him, we were counting on that. As soon as he gets here, we have the added advantage of numbers and a hostage. Not that the hostage will survive the encounter, and we leave him for last, so he can watch your last exquisitely painful moments.” 925’s lazy movements betrayed his lack of regard for her abilities.

Tasha was rather sure 925 knew she had something in her left hand, and may have even known it was a taser. If nothing else, she had to be enough of an annoyance to keep this one busy and if necessary negate her usefulness as a hostage before he could play that card. “He will survive. I don’t matter.” With that, Tasha lunged for the propane torch on the counter and leapt at the android.

>>>>

“I have no idea why her parents named her for Ms Fatale, but her middle name was obvious enough, once her parentage was confirmed. I suppose that’s also where your middle name choice came from as well, Arsène.” Madblood chuckled. “I had no idea where you came up with ‘Dàibhdh’ until I began to confirm her identities.”

Sela laughed, “I told her you didn’t focus on that era of the Roddenberry fandom, sir…” The trio was headed for the car when an unfamiliar alarm sounded, and Lovelace’s mobile unit suddenly joined them.

“Tasha’s personal alarm was activated, and I can’t raise her on the phone - let’s go!” Lovelace picked up the professor in her arms and ran to the garage.

First Chapter . Previous Chapter . Next Chapter