CHAPTER 19

"Mr. President, President! Do you have any comments on the latest scandal in Washington?" the reporter hollers.

Others follow suit in the mass parade across the White House lawn. Half of the Capitol Building was consumed by the grey goo that not only thrashed buildings but also massacred the armed forces attempting to stop the mass exodus of nanobots. If there is anything that the President despises it's being hounded by these media folks.

He pauses near the front steps of a marked entrance. They're going to have their press conference regardless of whether the conditions contribute to that or not. When he turns back to meet the horde of media, they aren't being berated by protesters anymore who have dispersed. Most political dissidents like Silas Betts and Clyde Van Dyke have been caught in the crosshairs of the viral outbreak or trapped by FEMA. It's to the President's benefit that he can escape most danger quite easily. Safety concerns dominate his thoughts and he's more aware of what his constituents need to be satisfied. They'll be a major migration soon to other parts of the country.

With his hands up in acquiescence, the President remarks, "As you have seen from the photos you've either taken or been privileged enough to view, this precinct is ruined beyond repair. We are devastated, as a city, as a nation, and in our hearts. Americans should know that this will never happen again, not while I'm in charge."

Some reporters aren't as keen to support that notion. "Sir, but it appears that the worst has already occurred, what are you going to do to fix it?"

"We're working on it," the President snaps back. "For now, Congress is enacting a new voting measure that will discontinue all Cloud-based software. It was recently proposed that Delphi Corp. be investigated for voter fraud and malware. Today, those accusations have been verified. Our biggest concern is salvaging our national security from what appears to be repeated malfunctions on the part of Delphi Corp. and its products."

"But Mr. President," another shouts from afar. "Sir, sir, another question!"

The barrage in interrogations isn't giving him a break so that when he finally decides to make his final remarks on those same steps, he needs assistance. He and the Vice President, along with the director of the EU will hold a special press conference regarding national organizational summits in the future. It won't be long until the United States is banned from such events because of security concerns. The supposed greatest country to ever be is now on the receiving end of charity and monetary contributions.

The President's political advisors suggest that he take a backseat to the sway of world markets. As much as he wants to wield power, the unprecedented danger remains on the horizon according to those same advisors. Detainees in FEMA are pushing for political asylum, but this constraint is what's keeping them within U.S. borders instead of emigrating. The U.S. can't afford to lose half of its citizenry. And as time would reveal it won't be long until the plummet of financial markets starves more than bodies, but it freezes bank accounts. Stockpiles of food are contained in storage units, so more people don't have to resort to cheap bartering. The spread of counterfeit money is bringing about a currency overhaul where corporations like Delphi Corp. can't prop up their monopolies.

Battered, bruised, and beaten from their mutations, Ellis Bartram's group of hybrids are waiting in bathing robes without clothes. While Bartram scours the shores of the Atlantic for signs of more contaminated species, he rereads private messages about outbreaks in Fukushima. By the time he returns to Delphi Corp. Headquarters there's no need to tell them what he's found since it would only complicate matters. His policy has always been strict privacy, but it is all coming to the forefront. The Yhemlen starship's ridge is protruding from the water as if it were an island of its own. The starship from the Yhemlen timeline has been submerged for millennia in a state of entanglement on the ocean floor. Bartram's sunglasses shield his bloodshot eyes; he is a man burned by more than stress, but someone consumed by fire to turn that pressure into a passion. He's determined to stay awake. This is the passion that would have killed him not long ago, now he is a full-fledged superhuman from the astral stones. Next to him are his successors, Yasmine, and the other group of hybrids.

From the helicopter, he can see the sun setting in the distance. Besides the pilot and a lone trooper, Bartram's white collared shirt blows with the massive breeze in the air, ripped like the worn jeans that managed to survive multiple shapeshifts. That island in the Bermuda Triangle is a massive technological artifact only someone like Bartram could operate. By chance or fortune, he's managed to acquire an entire starship without even trying, but it's likely to be confiscated. The helicopter has since turned off its tilt rotors. The loud motors are only decoys for the Ion Thrusters that propel the hydroplane during clandestine missions.

"You and God must be good friends," the trooper says with his rifle huddled to his chest. "Either that or you're really rich."

Bartram can't help but smile. "How about both?" he says. The trooper turns his head with a small grin of his own.

The rope finally falls to allow Bartram a way out of the helicopter when the hum of the electric propellers comes to a hover. The wind continues to blow while he holds on to the tethered material. He loves the feeling of his palms burning until he makes it back at the front of what's left of Delphi Corp.

"This place has got to be renamed," he decries. "Over and done. I think this whole operation is overdue for an overhaul."

The sunset of the coming darkness reminds Bartram of the night sky as it approaches, and he is beginning to love darkness more than the day. Silas Betts and Clyde Van Dyke from the Community Center haven't said much since the start of this epidemic. Bartram considers they're suffering from self-denial since they've been his biggest critics. He's sure they never would have thought that they'd be on the side of Delphi Corp. ventures. Truth be told, they still aren't, not completely. It's just happenstance that they were caught up in a heap of quantum radiation that gave them the astral stones. And as things are, perhaps it is best this way. Delphi Corp. is over.

Bartram takes his shoes off from a low stool. "I'm not your enemy. I hope you know that, both of you."

Silas and Van Dyke look exhausted from all of this, let alone feeling as if they've been duped by a master illusionist like Bartram who's been scheming for this day. On the flipside, Delphi Corp. is completely insolvent anyway. At least they have that going for themselves.

"You're welcome at the Community Center anytime. It looks like you could use it," Silas says. Bartram's life isn't completely ruined, not yet.

The group will be released from the constraints of being tied up in bureaucratic duties by the night's end; filing, name collecting, and documenting the historic event is going to take a while. They're still sifting through eye-witness accounts of the experiment gone wrong. Though they might as well stay overnight.

"What's next?" Van Dyke asks, his dazzling eyes piercing through Bartram's.

Ellis tilts his head to Van Dyke's arm. They've already forgotten about the astral stones that transformed them into raging beasts from exposure to particle emission. They'll never be the same again. As if he had not dealt with enough, Clyde rolls his head in dismay, his neck is sore.

"Oh yeah, that. I guess it helps to know we're all werewolf freaks now."

Bartram musters the little strength he has left to slide across the tile floors to cozy up near Van Dyke. Cotton socks keep each of them warm, as the sub sandwich at Bartram's side that he puts down. He has a mouth full of vegetables and salami wrapped in toasted wheat. He cozies up beside rival Clyde, putting an arm around his shoulders. By now, the sunglasses are off, but they left the mark of a tan all around in perfect ovals.

Ellis's breath has a profuse odor, but the stench is masked in pepper and spices. "How about I make it up to you. What do you say?" Bartram slides away from Van Dyke on the bench he's sitting at to give him space. "All of you!" the few that are awake look to him in contempt.

The National Guard has promised to drive them to the nearest FEMA ward for safety. Their precious equipment will be safeguarded, as well. For now, all they need is some assurance that they will be safe. It won't be long until Sector 10 closes and when Aquarius begins, they'll be safe from the exposed quantum field. To celebrate, Ellis Bartram has plans to welcome in a new group. Silas Betts's emotions stir in abhorrence for the situation, reconciling his hate for Bartram as misplaced anger. It's his fault that he got laced with cosmic radiation in the first place. Things are not completely over yet, and the way everyone else is slumped over not hearing a word of this worries them that things won't be okay.

Delphi Corp. will not only be renamed but most of its assets will also be funded by government startups. These new hybrids have no other choice than to be guinea pigs to the whims of more rounds of biological testing. If they want to live, they should not resist. With these astral stones and Ellis Bartram's help, the seven hybrids will inevitably disappear from public scrutiny and they know it.

"You're all under arrest," a federal Marshal pronounces. "On multiple counts of acts of terror against the U.S., manslaughter, coordinating with the media to leak classified information, and conspiracy against the safety and security of the United States of America."

"Put your hands where I can see them!" another officer shouts.

The group is aghast at the surprise. It wasn't expected that they'd be the ones in trouble for all of this. Delphi Corp.'s entire staff will serve time in correctional facilities as accomplices to the corruption of classified information. The Metropolis Project, as it originally stood, is now being brandished across the world with Delphi Corp. as the culprit. Even in Japan, the result of this experiment has created rumors of mutated creatures from another world that make visits to Earth every so often. If the gossip's true, which it is, it'll cause an entirely new segment of alien hunters that the science community doesn't need. But the damage is done.

Delphi Corp.'s days aren't over completely. Cloud Software, its autonomous component, Aladdin, and all research will undergo further study. A storage facility in charge of the cleanup and will take the remnants to a refurbished recycle bay and make it into a lab. For Bartram and his associates, there are more than enough spare parts and data sets that remain active and can keep their little experiment running. This has become an issue of national defense. People like Joe Hansen have unsettled lawsuits, funds for victims and their families are still waiting to be allocated, and to worsen matters there's a fight over interdimensional equipment that can do it all over again. For this group of genetic freaks, they can look forward to quarantine in housing that will facilitate their superhuman abilities to be developed. Others, like the intern Chris, are poised to make a comeback, and they can't wait to be released.

In a strange turn of events, it looks like the great hope of America has saved the world again from evil white supremacists. If it weren't for the Grey Order, half of this wouldn't have transpired. The volunteers stuck in Pangaea simply needed to find a way back, but a war between worlds couldn't be averted. Mistake or not, the efforts of reaping the fruits of menial labor on Earth's oversaturated soil by Nazism won't end here, not even in parallel dimensions. Fascist money laundering in the Old World has pushed the Syndicate to greater lengths in promoting union separatists to rise in low orbit, against the wishes of the Grey Order. Those Jewish science fables the Grey Order hates so much are spurring the movement forward. Everyone wants power, whoever prevails will need something more powerful to circumvent opposition across worlds.

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