Ch 29

It was getting late, 3:15, and Melmat was performing a party trick for his fellow researchers. He had a lit joint in each nostril, and was doing a funny dance while smoking them one at a time, through each nostril independently, while singing a made-up traditional African witch-doctor song which literally translated to “I am the Witch-Doctor”. They had turned the lights out, because it was easier to see the red coal at the end of the joints flare up that way.

Everyone was laughing by the end of it, and though they normally stopped around 4:30, work was officially over once Ronnie turned on the lights and began smoking with Melmat. Upon taking a small hit, however, he began coughing uncontrollably, and only barely managed to say “Jesus Christ Melmat” when Melmat took a larger hit.

Melmat had been working at this angle for about a week now, arranging events to permit this outrageous display. It wasn't part of any overarching plot or scheme, he just felt like being funny for a while. Even his impressive self control could become exhausted, even he needed to blow off some steam every so often. Ronnie had fully recovered, and was politely passing on a new joint, this one produced by Chad, clearly less powerful than the two Melmat was working on.

“I've given some thought to your suggestions,” Ronnie said “About using the Uke.”

“Oh yeah?” Melmat asked, formulating the question in a stoned way “Have you realized I was right about everything yet?” He laughed. This conversation was also something he had been working on getting for weeks, and it was most certainly part of his plan.

“No,” he said flatly “But some of the write-ups you've given me are pretty intriguing.”

“It's wild stuff,” Melmat said, setting his joint down “If I were you, I wouldn't trust a word out of my mouth, but man. . . can you imagine?” Melmat said, and a bit of his genuine self began to leak through “We'd never need to drill for oil again. No more wars in the desert, no more loud dirty cars on the road, no more starving children. Our technology could advance further than we could even imagine, and we're just one breakthrough away.” Melmat's voice grew hard, just for a moment “Just one goddamn breakthrough.”

Ronnie stared at him, then laughed.

“That's the spirit. Glad to see you getting fired up, Melmat. Sure,” he said, suddenly shrugging “Why not? It won't take terribly long to test your theories anyways.”

“Only take a week and a half,” Melmat said, voice suddenly sobered up, and mannerisms speeding up to near normal speeds “and we only need to do one test. It's pretty simple, but I can't set it up by myself.”

The group seemed surprised, and began talking amongst themselves. Melmat had always produced excellent work, despite his clear dependence on marijuana, but had never shown initiative like this before. They collectively though his latest theories sounded like extremely well written horse-shit, but that they seemed like a good deal of fun anyways. They, secretly, did not want to snuff out his new spark of enthusiasm either, as he was well liked by the group and they often wondered what he could achieve if he really applied himself.

“Fuck it, I'm down,” Chad finally said, breaking through the conversational barrier. “It's college, right? This is when we're supposed to be doing dumb shit like this.” After Chad's declaration, the rest of the group followed suit, and agreed to give Melmat's strange experiment a try.

“I promise, you won't regret it,” he said gratefully, and began shaking people's hands, leaving each of them with a light, tingling sensation.

–

“Beware the abyss, the underworld, for here are locked gods and powers like you have never known,” Ronnie said, surprising Melmat by quoting Lullaby from the Dark. Ronnie, Chad and Melmat walked and a gaggle of mostly unfamiliar girls followed behind. It made sense they were there; Ronnie was considered an impoverished, tragic member of the upper class, Chad was well liked and single. Melmat. . . well, he was putting on a very effective cover as a smelly stoner, so they wouldn't have anything but unconscious knowledge about how attractive he was.

Melmat, on that subject, was very happy to be transitioning out of the 'heavy smoking' phase of his plan. Today, though nobody would notice for a while, Melmat was standing straighter, had a healthy smell about him, and was speaking in a much more articulated manner. He, on an internal level, felt much cleaner, like his blood had been coated in something oily as it pumped through him.

“I never figured you for a man of culture,” Melmat said, then coughed. He could speed up the healing process, but there were some consequences even he couldn't negate about long term smoking.

“It's a classic, my family listens to it every year in the winter,” Ronnie replied, eyeing the large homeless encampment that had sparked the conversation. The smell was of cigarette smoke and urine, clinging to the wind. The encampment was inside of an abandoned parking lot of a bankrupt mall, a slowly rotting megastructure of shady dealings and moral abandonment. The mall was at the bottom of a large hill, cut down the side and walled back with enormous concrete blocks. It sat in the lowground, those who walked on the sidewalk above the wall could look down and see the roof of the building.

The homeless were not confined to the encampment, however, and though Melmat and his group walked on the sidewalk overlooking the mall, the streets were still packed with flattened cardboard boxes, orange needle caps, used condoms and every other kind of garbage. The homeless mostly sat around, half of them were smoking a cigarette at any given time, and only a few of them bothered to look at the group of college students passing through. To Ronnie, it felt as though they were walking through the territory of dangerous animals, before he reminded himself that the homeless were people too, just like him, down on their luck is all. Still, the feeling returned.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

The sky was blue overhead, the bright sunshine bleaching away some of the emotional weight of the scene.

“So, when you said your guy was at the mall . . .?” Chad asked, referencing local slang for being homeless.

“No, he's not at the mall,” Melmat replied “He's a good dude, we talked over craigslist a lot setting up this deal,”

“Which definitely isn't a drug deal,” one of the girls said, voice sarcastic.

“Which definitely isn't a drug deal,” Melmat said “But is a deal for some really sensitive, corporate research grade electronics. You can not buy this stuff, period, so it's a miracle I tracked it down. You've got the money, right?” Melmat asked Ronnie, who nodded.

“I've got the money. Why ten grand? I thought these components were only going to cost two thousand.”

“Because he might have something else, and he might not. Chad, you've got your gun, right?” Chad rolled his eyes and nodded, prompting a look between the four girls following them. They collectively walked a little closer behind after that.

If you had asked Chad or Ronnie about why they were so composed about going into a black market deal for stolen electronics that had the potential to turn into a gunfight, they wouldn't have a clue. Luckily, nobody was likely to ask them that question around here. If they had, they might have noticed they weren't acting like themselves.

In the distance, a homeless woman was having a life destroying argument with someone who wasn't there, she was screaming obscenities and wildly thrashing her arms, occasionally pausing, then responding to the silence. Melmat stared at her, much longer than his group felt comfortable with, and Chad eventually patted him on the shoulder, prompting him to start walking again.

They continued walking through the desolate streets, until eventually they reached the meeting spot, a building that had once been a Radio Shack, but was now just abandoned, and thoroughly looted of anything that could be sold. It was also, Melmat noted, entirely absent of any homeless occupation what-so-ever. They entered the building and picked around the piles of rubble, making their way to the former employee break-room.

Melmat asked that they remain outside, and they dispersed, exploring the ruined franchise building. Ronnie handed him an envelope and said 'good luck', before walking off. When everyone was gone, he immediately shifted into a much more natural, assertive posture and entered.

The smell in the room was different than the smell outside. The smoky air of cigarette smoke had a sleek, classy feel with a hint of cloves, and a man in a nice suit sat on an old couch, a briefcase on the table across from him.

“Flannel Glasses,” he said, looking at Ronnie. He spluttered and stepped back.

“Midnight Cup,” Melmat said, voice neutral.

“Nice to meet you, Melmat. Would you or your companions care for a drink?”

“They can do what they like, but I'll pass. Let's see what you've got,” Melmat said, and the suited man reached into his inside jacket pocket, producing a folded five gallon, thick, clear plastic bag, heat sealed. He unfolded it, then laid it on the table. Inside, in separate compartments, were several large black plastic rectangles in blue ice pack, a piece of dirty obsidian, a vial labeled 'rain water', and some desert soil.

“I was able to contract a friend out in Vegas to get what you asked for. You've got interesting taste, that's for sure, but nothing that couldn't be done. You've got something for me as well?” Melmat slid an unmarked black flashdrive onto the table.

“The rest is in cash, like you requested,” he said, and handed him a white bank envelope.

“That's good,” he said, plugging the flashdrive into a device the size and shape of a smartphone, it showed a readout of numbers and various digital currencies, primarily from EndChan. “That's very good indeed. I've also got a tip, for a good customer.”

“I thought it was supposed to be the other way around,” Melmat said, genuinely amused.

“Not in my line of work. Three bodies were found north of Hope, Nevada, up top a mountain. Sounds like cartel work, but two of the guys were theirs, and nobody is taking responsibility. One civilian dead, went rogue from his bachelor party and ended up dead next to two feared cartel enforcers.”

“Where? Where did they find them?” Melmat asked, leaning forward and eyes wide.

“A mountain in the middle of dead desert, the particular name of the wasteland escapes me.”

“Who found them?”

“Some kids. Cops came by and saw the bodies, but when a team got out there to take them to the morgue, they weren't there. They were going to conduct a search, but it was getting late, and they were hearing a lot of. . .wildlife.” He took a drag of his cigarette “so they called it off and said the wolves must have taken the bodies. There's been no further effort to recover them.”

“That's a shame. His poor fiancee,” Melmat said, and meant it.

“Unfortunately I don't know anything about that. This will conclude our business,” he said, and grabbed his brief case, set it on the empty cushion next to him, and opened it up. Inside was a set of dirty clothes and a pair of worn out shoes, safely contained in a thick plastic bag. “Unfortunately you'll have to leave without me; I'd like to change into something more discreet. Good bye.”

Melmat nodded, and left, taking his group with him.

–

When back on campus, Melmat couldn't help but notice Lisa every-time she was in his field of view. It wasn't unexpected, or unwelcome, and afforded him the opportunity to see the dramatic change the girl had undergone. Her clothing style before had been an arrangement of drab, thick garments, now she was wearing light, bright clothes, and was currently dressed for a workout, her hair up in a ponytail. He had noticed her out running most mornings, and knew from her memory impressions that she had overcome a major mental obstacle. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction in his chest, and allowed himself to take a full, relaxed breath. Lisa turned her head abruptly, then wiped the hair from her braid out of her face as she stared lasers at Melmat, who began coughing from shock.

She didn't remember anything, he was absolutely certain of that. At least, the parts of her that were awake didn't remember anything. She blinked several times, then shook her head, turning back to her friends, who were giggling from their attempts to snap her out of it. Lisa began speaking to them, and even from this distance, Melmat could tell she was asking about him.

Melmat really hoped she wasn't pregnant.

–

Back at the lab, Melmat collected everybody's phones and put them in a two cubic foot faraday cage. He removed one of the shiny, textured plastic rectangles and held it up for everyone to see.

“This, is a bio-chip,” he said, sliding it open and revealing a rectangle small patch of healthy looking, pink brain matter in a case with wires running out of it, attached to sophisticated looking circuits. “And before you ask, yes, it's still alive in there, and yes, it is human.”