-Chapter 10
"Dyslexia?" said Jim, making sure he heard right.
"That's right. And if you mean to take her anywhere for an extended period of time, she is going to need someone to help her with studying." affirmed Ms. Eleanor, concerning the relocation of the student in question.
"That's some sort of disability, then?" asked Jim, trying to get it as straight as can be.
"A form of learning disorder. Grace cannot functionally read like we can. She needs special attention." said Ms. Eleanor, gripping her binder to her chest.
"And you would be able to give her this attention?" said Jim, guessing from the look of urgency.
"If it's not too much trouble." said Ms. Eleanor. She was sensitive to the sudden cries heard in the hallway, outside the office door. Upon opening the door, Grace was seen with crocodile tears in her eyes.
"Someone wrote something on my locker. I don't know what it says." said Grace, grabbing Ms. Eleanor's hand. Excusing herself from the teacher's meeting, Ms. Eleanor was led to Grace's locker. The strawberry magnet was missing. But covering the rest of the locker was some hasty graffiti.
"What does it say?" asked Grace, tugging at Ms. Eleanor's arm. Looking around, Ms. Eleanor made note of the crowd that was gathering.
"Don't-" she began to say, getting distracted from the jeering high schoolers as well as quite taken back by the choice of words painted on the locker for all to see.
"What does it say!?" Grace begged, frustrated with the whole world and herself.
"Grace." said Ms. Eleanor, calmly. "Don't worry about it. Just get your things, and go. Come on."
Jim followed along, not impressed by the behavior of the snot nosed kids gawking about. That, and the words on the locker, which read "Suicide Slut."
"Alright!" Jim exclaimed at the top of his lungs over the din of pint sized dweebs straight from an after school special. He pulled out his badge and began shouting further when he had the attention of those around. "This school is hereby on Code Z, lock down! Courtesy of the United States Government! Everybody, get the hell to your classrooms!"
"What does it say?" Grace continued to repeat amidst sobbing. Ms. Eleanor took Grace's key to open the locker. Grace threw her books against the next locker, her violent lament refusing to end so quickly. If it would help the mood, Ms. Eleanor would have told her. The offensive words were still beyond Ms. Eleanor to repeat.
"What kind of authority do you have? To call a Code Z?" said the Principal, getting in Jim's face.
"I would hope I have more authority than whoever allowed this art project!" Jim said right back, pointing to the vandalism all over Grace's locker.
"The Nation is in martial law. Nothing wrong with acting like it is, anyway." Jim followed up, turning from the old man principle and walking into the bathroom.
After splashing some water on his face From the sink, Jim was startled by another presence in the room.
"Where are you taking Grace?" asked Max. He was standing at a distance behind Jim, yet was not threatening in tone or posture, whatever one could make of such when Max's entire torso was his head. That, and looking like a four foot tall cartoon character in real life put a damper on Max's intimidation factor.
"What does it matter to you?" Jim asked in return, also remaining calm. But some less than fond memories were in conflict with this situation, making Jim reach for his gun.
"Where ever Grace goes, so do I." said Max.
"You are much more talkative than I remember." said Jim, gripping the pistol. He took off the safety, and switched on the automatic fire.
"I do not remember you at all." Max said inquisitively.
"That's because I was safe behind blinded reinforced glass. You were also pretty occupied with chewing on what was left of the scientist." recalled Jim, pulling out the pistol and aiming right between the eyes.
"I do not understand." said Max, trying to recall for himself and failing. "Do you know where I come from?"
"Don't you look all innocent on me. Yeah, I saw you when you were born, created, synthesized-what ever you want to call it! And you were treated like a caged wild animal, because that's all you acted like!" said Jim, reaching for the sword cleverly hidden within his long jacket. As he gripped the hilt, Jim prepared himself as best he could for what would happen next. Only, what happened next was that Max began to openly sob.
"What am I?" he cried, falling to his knees. Jim was not at all prepared to deal with his target having emotions. Hesitantly he holstered his pistol and removed the hand from the sword.
"It's a strange story. And besides all this? I still doubt the ending's going to happy." said Jim.
The air was stifling within the main office as Ms. Eleanor and Grace were waiting along with their armed escort. The escort was a pair of large shady looking men wearing clean cut black suits, packing highly modified forms of M-16 rifles that were not any sort of the standard issue one was accustomed to seeing FBI carry. At least, on television it wasn't so. Of course, these men were no FBI agents. At long last, Jim burst in.
"Forward the rest of her study material to this address." Jim said to the assistant principle, handing her a piece of paper. The assistant looked astonished.
"Yes. It is not her home address, nor a residential address. Because the whereabouts of Grace Taylor Rice is classified until further notice." said Jim before the obvious could be asked. Grace made a huff.
"How do you know my middle name?" she said, glaring.
"Well, what I am more concerned with is why the school has... this particular nickname for you." Jim began to say, avoiding using the actual terms written on the locker to be sensitive. He looked more to Ms. Eleanor for his question. "Is there something I should know about before we continue?"
"If you would, please." said Ms. Eleanor quietly implying the intense sensitive nature of the incident in question.
"I'm waiting outside." said Grace, making for the door. She looked to the escorts. "Coming, boys?"
They looked to Jim first, who nodded to them. As they left, Ms. Eleanor continued.
"Not that it's something to announce over the loudspeaker or anything. Grace was not handling the transition to this school district very well. Two months before the school year started, she suffered from acute depression. Grace attempted suicide, and nearly succeeded." said Ms. Eleanor.
"So, what would you suggest, given your professional opinion?" asked Jim, presuming.
"I'm just a special needs teacher. Not a therapist. My professional opinion doesn't carry much weight in this case. But, if you were to ask what I think? Honestly, from what I've seen today, I could easily agree that removing Grace from this environment is in her best interest."
"Fair enough for me." said Jim. He then opened the door, motioning the lady to exit first.
"You sure you don't want me on the turret there, sheila?" Bill had asked after a rocket came dangerously close to exploding into the glorified SUV they were driving down range. Alice barely managed to point the gun towards the incoming rocket in time to blast it. She answered with the stark silence that the Serene Corp Mini Electrolaser was becoming rather famous for on the battlefield, as it shot bolts like lightning to incinerate it's targets.
"How's the weather in China these days?" Bill asked next.
"I'm from Japan." Alice replied with notable disdain for ignorance. Bill clunked his head with his palm.
"How much further?" Alice asked this time.
"I'm not like a stunned mullet here. But I'm not sure. Never got an exact position on the guy. Just some rumors." said Bill, staring into the snow lined urban tundra. It was growing rather bare of population as they barreled down the streets heading North. This was more clear as there were less and less guns firing at them. Then, finally they hit a patch of the city which was freakishly quiet as opposed to viciously ear piercing with the sounds of war. "We better find him before those Ruskies do. No tellin what the Reds will put Volden up to if they find him first."
"Let's stop here and ask around." said Alice, pointing to what looked like a diner, news stand, and a candy shop.
"Just so you know, my Ukrainian is more than a little rusty." Bill tried to explain before he was flat out embarrassed by how little he could communicate so much as a "hello" to the locals.
"It is dangerous out here for foreigners." said a man walking up to them. "What am I saying, though? Come on inside! Foreigners are just what I am looking for!"
"Call me Al. Welcome. Welcome." said Al, practically shoving the two in his little candy shop. Then Al proceeded to the counter where he took a couple pieces of candy, handing them to Alice and Bill.
"My latest invention. Please try. Star Spangled Starfruit, I call it. We don't get much starfruit here, so I was sad when I try to come up with flavor. But from foreigner I meet one day, he say that starfruit taste sort of like lemon and orange together. So I mix lemon and orange together. What you think?" said Al, eager for their review. Alice stared at the red white and blue cube in her hand, not knowing how to explain. The expecting look on Al's face forced her to put the candy in her mouth anyway.
"Mmm. So good." she feigned as best she could for the lack of sensation she truly felt.
"Not bad, mate." said Bill. Not knowing what else to say. Still, the words were enough to bring a smile on Al's face.
"Nothing warms this heart more than to see the childrens content with candy in their mouths." said Al, motioning them to follow him into the back room. There were several different vats full of bubbling liquids, and countless bags everywhere full of powders and chemicals. On the wall was a blackboard coated with scrawled mathematical equations.
"I found this to be the best use of expertise. I use these chemicals, and I crunch numbers. The result is what you see out there. Harmless. Innocent. Candy." Al continued to say. He picked up a dash of green powder, and threw it in a vat of blue stuff. A puff of smoke and chemicals, then the contents of the vat turned red. "When I was child, I see movie. Willy Wonka. He was my idol. A man who was genius, but make candy for living."
Alice nudged Bill as she began putting pieces together.
"So, would Al be short for Alexey?" Bill asked cautiously.
"I would suppose Mother Russia would have me make bombs for them. Restart arms race with Capitalist America. Would America be any different, I wonder?" said Al, staring into the vat of red.
"We represent the United Nations. We think you might be able to help stop a terrible war that would involve the whole world." said Alice, stepping closer to Al.
"Alexey Volden Junior. Who is he? I am just candy maker who make candy for childrens." said Al, refusing to turn from the vat. Alice and Bill looked at one another, and walked out of the room.
"How do we go from here, you gather?" asked Bill.
"It's not like we should take him by force. I'm not sure, though." said Alice.
"Oi! You miss secret ingredient." said Al, beckoning them back into the room. They returned to find Alexey holding some sort of tube with a keypad and screen on it. After typing a long series of some sort of code into the keypad. Then, Alexey pulled on a trigger mechanism, lowering the nozzle above the vat of red.
"The Universal Catalyst. My father's discovery. He discover it, and how to manipulate the catalyst to produce reactions that defy known chemistry. He called it the Rasputin particle." Alexey said as a single golden droplet fell into the vat of red, and a reaction began to take place. Steam rose from the vat, and bubbling rose on the surface of the liquid along with an eerie light. The steam became so much until nothing could be seen for a moment. As the reaction ended, and the steam dissipated, what was left in the vat was countless cubes of red white and blue.
