Chapter 53
Leads
“Could I ask a favor?” Leo said when Mrs. Osmond came in with a third tray of food. (fried chicken and mashed potatoes) “My mom's been too busy to cook proper meals, and my younger sister is a picky eater. You're such a great cook. I don't suppose you could pack an extra meal for her? She likes chicken, hamburgers...”
“Well.” Her worried expression vanished for a moment and she giggled. “Oh, you poor guy. If you think I'm a good cook, you must have it rough. Of course I'll pack you something.” She scurried away.
“You asked for it,” Mr. Osmond said. “Mom will send you home with half the refrigerator.”
“Now I've spent the day answering every question imaginable,” Leo said. “How about answering some of mine? Who are the aliens, and what are they up to?”
“Well, Leo, I wish I knew.” Mr. Osmond sipped on a glass of water, holding it with a shaking hand, exhausted from having been up all the previous night. “There is very little tangible information available. What I know is the closer you look, the creepier things become. A major national lab, one of the best and most advanced in the world, got their hands on a drop of pure Bio-Blessed, the stuff the billionaires get. According to the lab, that drop of Bio-Blessed was indistinguishable from 0.9% saline solution. That is ordinary salt water. The lab couldn't identify what Bio-Blessed was, let alone how it works or how to make more. People have high hopes for Body Booster Inc, but I'm not surprised they're a fraud.”
“What about the billionaires? They must have some idea who's doing this.”
Mr. Osmond shook his head. “The aliens correspond with the ultrarich through computer messaging and delivery drones. Correspondence is always in formal contract language. Billionaires pay money and meet contractual obligations, like selling and endorsing the aliens' product, in exchange for their monthly dose of Bio-Blessed. To date, nobody has ever seen the aliens or spoken to them in person. That 'Beware the Guardian 5191,' comment was by far the most interesting and out-of-character thing they've done. You say you've never heard of it before yesterday? And you don't know what it means?”
Leo nodded. “Correct. Never heard of it.”
“I suspect they also have the ability to see the future, and like you, are working to change it. But to what purpose?”
“What about the implants?” Leo asked.
“Assuming those are from a different alien, we know even less about them. They show up, hand out these implants, and vanish.”
“So that's it?” Leo asked.
Mr. Osmond sighed. “Those who might be able to learn more are afraid to. There are very wealthy, powerful people who like receiving their monthly shot of Bio-Blessed and won't allow anything to screw that up. These days, knocking on the wrong doors will get you killed.”
“Sounds like we're fucked.” Leo stood up, feeling tired and discouraged.
“I wouldn't throw in the towel quite yet,” Mr. Osmond said. “If the aliens see this as a game, there must be a way to win. Otherwise, why would they bother playing? That VR game you mentioned sounds like an interesting lead, and I'm pursuing other leads as well. We have three weeks.”
He pulled a book from the bookshelf above his desk and tossed it to Leo. Its title was Brain Puzzles. “See if this raises your Intelligence.”
Leo stuffed the book into his pack. “Thanks. I'd better head home.”
“Don't forget your food,” Mr. Osmond said.
As Leo left the room, Mr. Osmond leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
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***
“I left the compost-burgers for you, since you like them so much,” Lydia said, sulking in front of the TV. “I had some chips and toasted hamburger buns.”
“Well, tonight is your lucky night.” Leo put the large bag on the table. “It turns out Mr. Osmond lives with his mother, a sweet old lady who sent us some food, for which I told her you would be eternally grateful.”
Lydia stomped over to the bag. “Let's see the food, first.” As she started pulling things out of the bag, her face lit up. She filled her plate with chicken, rice, and mashed potatoes. “Tell her I wish she was my mother.” Lydia put the plate in the microwave to heat up.
Leo warmed up a container of vegetable beef soup (also from Mr. Osmond's mother), and they sat down in the living room to eat.
“You didn't really write a book, did you?” Lydia asked.
Leo shook his head. “It's part of you-know-what.” He grabbed the remote and selected Monster Trauma to distract Lydia.
He had a lot to think about. Mr. Osmond believed him, at least. But would that be enough to change anything? The smart guy didn't appear to have the answers, either.
Curious, he pulled out the Brain Puzzle book and opened it. “What are two things you can't eat for breakfast?” he read out loud from the first page.
“Lunch and dinner,” Lydia said, not looking away from the TV.
“That was lame,” Leo said. With a sigh, he kept reading.
Thursday, September 25, 2059
21 days to Armageddon
Leo groaned and dragged himself out of bed.
He'd looked through the puzzle book Mr. Osmond had given him the night before. Most of the puzzles had been too hard for him. Afterwards, he forced himself to take another of Mr. Al's capsules and exercise before turning in. Curious, he checked his stats.
Subject: Leo
Sex: Male
Age: 12
Strength: 6.0
Vitality: 7.4
Agility: 5.3
Intelligence: 5.6
Charisma: 5.9
Common Sense: 4.5
Class: Undetermined
Qualifies for Swordsman/Common, Swordsman/Uncommon, Garbage-Collector/Common, Housekeeper/Common, and Janitor/Common.
Special skills: None.
Demon Tears: 16
Corruption: 0
So Strength up 0.4, Vitality up at least 0.5, Agility up 0.3, Intelligence up 0.2, Charisma 0.3, and no change to Common Sense for some reason.
Something he was doing must be having the desired effect. No more class options, though.
Another text from Mr. Osmond.
Meeting at 8:00 AM. Be there.
It was 7:00.
“There's no pork-chop night, tonight,” Mom said. “This Friday we're going out to a real restaurant, like a real family.”
“Yay!” Lydia said, bouncing in her chair from joy.
Leo winced. It was Thursday already. Mom's announcement brought back unpleasant memories of tomorrow evening when Dad discovered he'd lost 100,000 dollars in the stock market. Still, it wasn't like Leo could do anything about it. All he could do was wait and pick up the pieces for his sister after.
He entered Mr. Osmond's house for the second time in as many days and handed Mr. Osmond his watch and cellphone. This time, Mr. Osmond's study was filled with people, most of whom he recognized. Angie waved from the corner. Howie sat in the large easy chair with a cup of coffee. Liam, the skinny guy he'd met at last Tuesday's training, stood against a wall, looking out of place. Leo didn't recognize a short chubby girl with glasses, close to his age, sitting in the corner opposite Angie, reading a book--ironically titled “Surviving the End of the World.”
Leo helped himself to the donuts and coffee resting on a folding table in the back of the room.
Mr. Osmond put Leo's electronics in the metal box next to his desk and stood in front of the group.
Leo felt a nervous chill as Mr. Osmond began to speak.