(no subject)
It's a long drive up to the Saint Joseph area, so I try to remember anything that would help in the coming days. Michigan started offering grant money to biotech companies a few years back so a lot of powerful companies moved in to do drug and genetic engineering research. Everything seemed fine until this spring, when a cable news channel did a special report on just how rampant and unusual the birth defects were getting in their quiet lakefront town. The kicker was that about five minutes into it, the screen blacked and changed into an infomercial, and that's the last anyone heard.
The sun's going down again as I take the exit off of 94 and try to find the address Cantor sent, but when I get there the house is dark and empty. Don't tell me they got him, too...
At that moment, lights go on. Pushing down panic I spin to meet them and a laid-back voice says, "If you're looking for Larson, it's still happy hour at the Silver Dollar Cafe." I mutter a thanks and the neighbor goes back inside.
In two minutes I'm walking in to the Silver Dollar, but have no idea what my contact looks like, or if he's even expecting anyone. Doesn't take too long to spot him, though... by himself, he's sitting diagonally in the back room, watching both doors at once. Exactly what I'd look like, basically.
"James Larson?" Up close, his face looked like life had been rough on him, and his expression said he was ready to return the favor. "No one calls me that. How do you know me?"
"Cantor thinks you know what's behind the... disturbances around here."
"In that case, it's Jim. And yes, I know more about them than's healthy, apparently." Saying that, he looks down at his hand wrapped around the mug, knuckles still in the process of turning his recent past into scar tissue. He grunts and starts to talk again, still watching for anyone to come into earshot.
"Smith, Victor and I have been following Genego for almost a year now; there had been rumors going around even before the news broke. I assume Victor filled you in?"
He didn't know. I tell him about the bombing the best I can, and he's silent for a minute, thinking and breathing heavy. He seems to decide something, snaps his head up, and goes on with the history.
"They're testing a new weapon. Gas, we think, but can't be sure yet. Everyone is complicit. EVERYONE. Ambulances go in to their labs in the middle of the night, unload and leave empty, no lights. Even the morgue is in on it... only cremations so there's no evidence. There hasn't been a single burial since they moved in, but plenty of obituaries."
I didn't think it were possible, but his face hardened even more.
"The new moon is in three days - we're going to blow this wide open. You in?"
The sun's going down again as I take the exit off of 94 and try to find the address Cantor sent, but when I get there the house is dark and empty. Don't tell me they got him, too...
At that moment, lights go on. Pushing down panic I spin to meet them and a laid-back voice says, "If you're looking for Larson, it's still happy hour at the Silver Dollar Cafe." I mutter a thanks and the neighbor goes back inside.
In two minutes I'm walking in to the Silver Dollar, but have no idea what my contact looks like, or if he's even expecting anyone. Doesn't take too long to spot him, though... by himself, he's sitting diagonally in the back room, watching both doors at once. Exactly what I'd look like, basically.
"James Larson?" Up close, his face looked like life had been rough on him, and his expression said he was ready to return the favor. "No one calls me that. How do you know me?"
"Cantor thinks you know what's behind the... disturbances around here."
"In that case, it's Jim. And yes, I know more about them than's healthy, apparently." Saying that, he looks down at his hand wrapped around the mug, knuckles still in the process of turning his recent past into scar tissue. He grunts and starts to talk again, still watching for anyone to come into earshot.
"Smith, Victor and I have been following Genego for almost a year now; there had been rumors going around even before the news broke. I assume Victor filled you in?"
He didn't know. I tell him about the bombing the best I can, and he's silent for a minute, thinking and breathing heavy. He seems to decide something, snaps his head up, and goes on with the history.
"They're testing a new weapon. Gas, we think, but can't be sure yet. Everyone is complicit. EVERYONE. Ambulances go in to their labs in the middle of the night, unload and leave empty, no lights. Even the morgue is in on it... only cremations so there's no evidence. There hasn't been a single burial since they moved in, but plenty of obituaries."
I didn't think it were possible, but his face hardened even more.
"The new moon is in three days - we're going to blow this wide open. You in?"