The Queen Song

2) Scenes 4-6

Mike W McCoy

09/25/2019

Version 4

<>4<>  Questions at 20 thousand feet.

The buzzing vidfone dragged the latent 2nd dreamer back into the reality of 20 thousand feet.  His hand dived into the open briefcase to kill the noise.  The device’s screen displayed a shifting blue haze floating between an indistinct older black gentleman and the lens.

“Yes, Director?” he grunted at the bald man’s image on the screen.

The Director started slow.  “Special Agent Boris change of plans.  After your plane’s landing, you will partner up with an Agent Yoshi of Org-Crime.”

"Sir, I don't do partners."

“I know.  I don’t much like this situation either.  It spooled up the chain of command, and I’m passing the link to you.”

“Why?”

“Because.  Now listen Boris, I’m doing you a favor.  This is exactly what you’ve been searching for.”

“How so?” 

“Here’s what I know.  Agent Yoshi has a case lead.  An intercepted message between a principle of the Yellow Hand triad and a Mafia captain named Bolanos.”

“Good for her.” 

The Director continued.  “A Systems Hacker identified as Mohammed Maxx is being used by this Bolanos gumba to promote a private VIP show.”

Boris feigned ignorance.  "Sir, I don’t understand."

“The computer Hack is of sensitive top secret material.  Some type of high-end Memory Engram taken from a Second Gen.  The Auton Replicant once named Call.” 

“What?  What did you say?” 

“Call, the renegade synthetic, the alleged accomplice of Experiment Number 8.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Well, it’s Agent Yoshi’s case,” the Director finished.  “So um, please play nice for once.  Be a team player, Ao?”

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<>5<>Just like you.

Son embraced Mother without hesitation, totally obedient, powerless to do otherwise.  Despite being a full head taller, the young man’s face was a detailed copy of hers.  He had the same wedge shaped straight nose, the abnormally high cheek bones, the aggressive slant of a protruding lower jaw, and the same Alien DNA mixed black on black eyes.  Each of these traits helped to identify him as not being fully human.

He backed away from the dead body.  "Another failure?"

Mother turned away.  "Willing but weak."

"When?  Mother, when will I have a brother?"

“Soon.”

She answered as a maimed Handmaiden slipped a roughly altered yellow raincoat over her naked dark bronze, almost black, body.

"In my Song, two new minds.  Strong ones," she mused while walking towards matching closed doors.  "I called to them.”

“Yes?”

“They will find me, they will come."

"Mother, I felt something.  Something...new."

She smiled.  "My Firstborn that was fear…an old friend."

Their feet sank ankle deep into the soft sand covering the floor of the next room.

"I felt more,” Mother added.  “A strength behind the fear, an anger, a thirst.  I know this, too."

A pair of infant twin girls - seemingly human, maybe half a year old - lay curled up amongst rough rags at the far corner of the room. 

“Only three weeks now,” their mother continued, caressing the nearest.  She knew her child, with its dark coffee colored skin stretched tight over quickly growing bones, would reach adult size in only a matter of months.

“They will grow fast, just as you did.”

“Yes Mother.”

The baby started to scream, and Mother could feel the extra sensory tingle under it. It was an unfocused, conflicted cry into the void between minds, but the child was able to sing.

The small girl’s eyes however, were alert and dedicated to her mother's every gesture, thought and emotion.  It was as if the Alien DNA connected them mentally on a cellular level.

She returned the child.  “Jax my son.  The time has come.”

“The outside Mother?”

“The outside.  You must help our family grow."

Jax stepped closer.  "Yes Mother, but how?”

“People are coming.  Someone strong.  They will take one of your sisters away.”

“What if they are lying?"

"They will die.”

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?

<>6<>  They closed like circling sharks.

The early sunlight that lanced into Mother’s nursery, also lit the chain link fence separating the parking lot and airport.  The corroded metal, dotted by tumble weeds and razor wire bouquets, gave an angry quiver as the next jumbo jet taxied off the runway.

On the far side of the sonic assault, a short Asian woman stood near a dusty black cop car thickly shrouded in solar panels.  She snapped another cigarette butt across the near empty asphalt lot.

The Japanese woman was costumed in a stylish designer pantsuit that was several shades of gray and white trim.  The long sleeves concealed strong muscular arms, and the bright athletic shoes added a touch of whimsy.  Her curves were almost attractive, but the salt and pepper hair and blatant battle scars, especially the deep one running across her face, gave off a ball busting appearance in the old Gov-Corp style.

She lit a new smoke, and began talking to herself as a 100 things ran through her mind.

"Ao, Agent Yoshi, you dug a deep one now.  Ask for a favor, and you get a psychopath with a badge.”

She closed the lighter hard.  “Special Agent Boris, the man who hates himself.  Not much help there.”

“Ao, the mission?” she cynically added.  “A contact between a Yellow Hand insider and this Bolanos.  Some kind of a show, a stolen Memory Engram, if you want to believe that.  A good hook, scans great."

She continued berating herself, watching another plane approach.  “A lie, all a lie.  There was no communiqué.  You faked that Agent Yoshi.  You had to, the second you saw the triad criminal’s face.”

The jumbo jet seemed louder than the last.  “Bolanos is a small fish, but that triad henchman who called?  The informant.  He’s your older brother…Mahn."

She hesitated on the next cigarette after spotting a man shaped shadow marching across the asphalt.  Then she matched its pace, and the pair closed like circling sharks nearer the cop car.  The slow speed allowed them time to size each other up, like celluloid cowboys.  

The big man was costumed in an expensive well-tailored dark gray, almost black, suit, with matching white trimmed wingtips.  The necktie was wide, and several years out of style, but her eyes did not pay much attention to that. 

“Special Agent Boris,” she stated upon seeing his grotesque face. 

“Agent Yoshi,” he replied noting how momentarily repulsed she was.

She responded with a nod, and calmly put away her unlit cigarette. 

“So,” his attitude advanced farther, indicating the empty lot.  “What is this?”

“An unsanctioned team-up,” mumbled to herself, while reflexively fingering her own long scar trailing from left eyebrow to right jaw line.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

He gave her a knowing look as another jumbo jet approached. 

“I have a slim chance to detain a high ranked member of the Yellow Hand crime syndicate.  And you, partner, are my inside straight.”

“Swell, any back-up?”

“It’s been handled,” she insisted with an ambiguous tone.

“I don't like partners, Agent Yoshi.  Is this Memory Engram real?  Or am I just-”

“This job for real,” she insisted.  “You just follow my lead, and keep your eyes open.” 

“Fair enough,” Boris responded, almost smiling.  “What aren't you telling me?” 

"Nothing," Yoshi lied, still thinking how the triad henchman was her brother.

“Nothing at all.”

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