Harry’s. Harry’s is a place outside Miami, where everyone meets to fly to the Bahamas and then pick up boats to head for Inconnu.”
***
“Boss, the members of our New Orleans packs are going to have major trouble leaving the city,” a girl with glasses said from behind a long, computer-laden table.
Raya frowned.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not. There’s been an outbreak of some new flu – it’s dropping people in droves. So far it’s only in New Orleans, so the CDC took urgent precautions and put the entire city under quarantine. No one in: no one out.”
“You have got to be kidding. Can they even do that?” Raya asked.
“They already did it,” the girl answered calmly and turned back to her machines.
“Well, that’s just peachy, and just when the damn Rats hit US soil! Itchiko, we need information about those Rats. They have to be behind the killings we heard about on the news. We need to know how many they are, who is in charge and what their goals are.”
The thin Japanese warrior frowned.
“As I recall, as of about a decade ago, Petra still had a friend in the Rats. The name was Elinor something.” He looked at Petra with hope.
She shook her head helplessly.
“Name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“We need her back, goddammit,” Raya snarled with frustration. “We’re at war and too much is happening. We need you to get your memory back and functioning well. Any ideas?”
“There is one possibility,” Itchiko said. “I was waiting for a good time to discuss this. When you guys showed up this morning, I did some fast research on memory loss. It turns out there’s a guy who has made some large steps forward, but his work is unconventional.”
“Can you get him here?” Raya snapped.
“I took the liberty of doing just that, and our one stroke of luck is that he landed forty minutes ago in New Orleans. Just before it was shut down.”
Raya whipped around and faced Itchiko, his entire heart in his eyes. The other man didn’t say a word; none were needed. He simply executed a slight bow.
“What’s unconventional about him?” Raya asked.
Itchiko grinned so slightly that Petra would have never seen it if she hadn’t been watching him closely.
“He uses both unconventional medicines and procedures. He claims brain cells are unlike any other. They don’t reject it if you put strange ones in. That’s not exactly what he does, but close. He injects a patient’s hippocampus with a mixture of stem cells from a fetus’s hippocampus and a grown person’s. The adult is usually a member of Mensa. Doctor Kyger insists that the patient’s IQ rises by a minimum of ten points, as well as getting their memories back.”
Raya frowned.
“I don’t like the sound of that, not even a little bit. The fetal cells are one thing, but cells from some guy with a high IQ? Can we leave that part out?”
“Hell, no,” Petra said with determination. “If there’s a chance my IQ goes up, I want it.”
“This likely hasn’t even been tested,” Raya said, his voice tight. “You’d be taking big chances, and on your damn brain. This isn’t shooting something in your arm. This is your brain, Petra.”
“And a good thing it is, or the procedure wouldn’t work at all!” The retort came as a surprise to them both. Across the room, a small man came toward them. He was only 5”5” and weighed less than Petra did if she had to guess. His dark eyes were smiling behind thick glasses.
“Dr. Kyger, at your service.”
“Hi Doctor, I’m Petra… the one with the lost memory. Do you really think that you can help me?” Petra asked, worried. If this didn’t work, she was screwed and it would hurt the pack in the long run if she couldn’t understand the dynamics.
“I truly believe that I can, my dear. It is true that the procedure works eighty-five percent of the time and rises statistically to ninety-five percent in female patients,” the man
***
“Boss, the members of our New Orleans packs are going to have major trouble leaving the city,” a girl with glasses said from behind a long, computer-laden table.
Raya frowned.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not. There’s been an outbreak of some new flu – it’s dropping people in droves. So far it’s only in New Orleans, so the CDC took urgent precautions and put the entire city under quarantine. No one in: no one out.”
“You have got to be kidding. Can they even do that?” Raya asked.
“They already did it,” the girl answered calmly and turned back to her machines.
“Well, that’s just peachy, and just when the damn Rats hit US soil! Itchiko, we need information about those Rats. They have to be behind the killings we heard about on the news. We need to know how many they are, who is in charge and what their goals are.”
The thin Japanese warrior frowned.
“As I recall, as of about a decade ago, Petra still had a friend in the Rats. The name was Elinor something.” He looked at Petra with hope.
She shook her head helplessly.
“Name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“We need her back, goddammit,” Raya snarled with frustration. “We’re at war and too much is happening. We need you to get your memory back and functioning well. Any ideas?”
“There is one possibility,” Itchiko said. “I was waiting for a good time to discuss this. When you guys showed up this morning, I did some fast research on memory loss. It turns out there’s a guy who has made some large steps forward, but his work is unconventional.”
“Can you get him here?” Raya snapped.
“I took the liberty of doing just that, and our one stroke of luck is that he landed forty minutes ago in New Orleans. Just before it was shut down.”
Raya whipped around and faced Itchiko, his entire heart in his eyes. The other man didn’t say a word; none were needed. He simply executed a slight bow.
“What’s unconventional about him?” Raya asked.
Itchiko grinned so slightly that Petra would have never seen it if she hadn’t been watching him closely.
“He uses both unconventional medicines and procedures. He claims brain cells are unlike any other. They don’t reject it if you put strange ones in. That’s not exactly what he does, but close. He injects a patient’s hippocampus with a mixture of stem cells from a fetus’s hippocampus and a grown person’s. The adult is usually a member of Mensa. Doctor Kyger insists that the patient’s IQ rises by a minimum of ten points, as well as getting their memories back.”
Raya frowned.
“I don’t like the sound of that, not even a little bit. The fetal cells are one thing, but cells from some guy with a high IQ? Can we leave that part out?”
“Hell, no,” Petra said with determination. “If there’s a chance my IQ goes up, I want it.”
“This likely hasn’t even been tested,” Raya said, his voice tight. “You’d be taking big chances, and on your damn brain. This isn’t shooting something in your arm. This is your brain, Petra.”
“And a good thing it is, or the procedure wouldn’t work at all!” The retort came as a surprise to them both. Across the room, a small man came toward them. He was only 5”5” and weighed less than Petra did if she had to guess. His dark eyes were smiling behind thick glasses.
“Dr. Kyger, at your service.”
“Hi Doctor, I’m Petra… the one with the lost memory. Do you really think that you can help me?” Petra asked, worried. If this didn’t work, she was screwed and it would hurt the pack in the long run if she couldn’t understand the dynamics.
“I truly believe that I can, my dear. It is true that the procedure works eighty-five percent of the time and rises statistically to ninety-five percent in female patients,” the man
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