The Same But Different

Chapter 05

A shower helped to clear my mind somewhat, but did nothing to improve my mood or resolve. This time, instead of jeans, I put on my sweat pants and a t-shirt. I was home, dammit, so I might as well relax. As I went downstairs to make myself a small, easy breakfast, I found that I didn't want to think about my problems just yet. This weekend was supposed to be fun and filled with quality time spent with my daughter. Instead, I was pulled between a potential industrial espionage crisis at work and this craziness with Helena. I come home to avoid stress, not deal with more of it. As I mused about these issues in my solitude, I decided on something: I was not going to let trouble harass me anymore. The problems I was facing, whatever they might be, would have to seek me out; I would not entertain them unless absolutely necessary.

So I washed up my dishes, went into my office and fired up my computer. Normally, I'd use my computer system for work-related things, but being wealthy has the advantage of ensuring that, if I want entertainment, I can afford it. My computer is a powerful beast that I'd built with my own two hands. Everything on it was custom-built to handle anything I threw at it and then some. I turned on the VR rig, donned my Oculus Halo (along with haptic gloves and vest), stood in the center of my office and selected a game that would allow me to quite simply blow shit up for a while. I needed to decompress, dammit.

I played the game for nearly an hour until I was good and tuckered out. It had been a high-intensity first-person shooter on a multi-player framework. For that hour I was just one of thousands of people on an expansive battlefield, intent on killing as many alien/robot hybrids as possible. I didn't even pay attention to my score- all I wanted to do was destroy stuff, which I managed to do with wild abandon. When I got tired and finally pulled my Halo off my head, I saw Helena sitting in a chair. She had put on a dress and wore a bemused grin when I noticed her.

"How long have you been watching?" I asked her.

She shrugged. "About twenty minutes or so. Looked like you were having a good time, so I didn't want to interrupt."

I nodded as I stowed my gear. "It was kind of cathartic," I admitted as I reached into my desk and took out a small towel to wipe away the sweat I'd worked up. I'd need another shower soon, I decided. She said nothing as she watched me. When I mopped myself up well enough, I dropped the towel on the desk surface and regarded her for a long, quiet moment.

"Do we need to talk?" I asked her.

She narrowed her eyes and looked askance for a moment, considering it. "Probably," she said at first, "but I don't want to rehash anything. I owe you an apology, though."

I sat down on the edge of my desk and faced her. "I think we both owe each other an apology," I replied. "I shouldn't have let myself lose control like that."

She offered me a dopey grin. "Well, it's not like I made things easy on you. Which is what I should apologize for. I came at you pretty strong and I shouldn't have. I was so wrapped up in what I wanted that I didn't give your feelings enough thought."

I clasped my hands in my lap and looked down at my feet for a few seconds before looking back up at her. "If I'm going to be completely honest," I began, "I think I needed it." Her eyebrows arched in slight surprise, but she said nothing. "For years I guess I kind of... suppressed my thoughts and feelings about... her. And, in a way, about you, too. You're right in that, originally, I'd created you in an effort to bring her back into my life. It was a foolish and desperate thing for me to do and I didn't consider the consequences or outcome at the time. That's a sin I can't ever really pay for, not while I'm alive, anyway. If there is a Hell, I'm probably bound for it because of what I've done. But what I hadn't counted on is you. Or, more precisely, who you eventually became. You're an individual, completely and utterly unique. Yes, you share a myriad of similarities to your mother, but you are uniquely you, too. And I had a hand in that. I played a part in your growth and development. So I took that responsibility on as a father rather than a... scientist. I became personally invested in your maturity, as any good father would and should, but I neglected the other role I played in your creation. I kept the truth from you, mostly for selfish reasons. That was wrong of me." I took a deep, cleansing breath. "And for that, I deeply apologize."

I could see the tears welling up in Helena's eyes as she took that in. "I guess we both made mistakes," she said quietly.

I shook my head. "That kind of thinking will get us nowhere," I told her. "I refuse to think of you as a mistake. I created you with purpose and intent, not accidentally. What I did and how I went about it- those were mistakes. But you have been a blessing to me and I don't regret it in the tiniest bit. And what you did... what you... need," I paused as I searched for the right words. "I guess, in a way, it's only natural. For you, anyway. You deserved to know the truth a lot sooner than you got it. You deserved to hear it from me and not trip over it on your own. You deserved to have that knowledge shared with you instead of having to figure it out on your own. There's a dozen ways in which I failed you on this and... well... I need to fix that."

Helena's brow furrowed at that. "How?" she asked.

Again, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not going to lie to you anymore, for starters. The truth is, I need you probably as much as you need... whatever it is you need. My life would be empty without you in it and the older you get, the more mature you get, the more I feel her presence back in my life. You carry the essence of her within you and I feel a hunger for that, too. If I lost you, I'd be losing her all over again, and I don't think I can go through that a second time."

She seemed lost. "So what does that mean?" she asked.

"That means," I answered, "that maybe I'm not as opposed to being seduced by you as I led you to believe. Maybe I'm even receptive to it. Maybe it'll be painful and wonderful all at the same time, but I... I'm game to try it if you are. Slowly."

"How slowly?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Slowly. Days, maybe weeks. Maybe hours. I honestly can't tell you. I know that I'm not ready to just jump into the sack with you, not yet. I will always think of you as my daughter to some degree-"

"Good!" she said. "Because, regardless of how this turns out, you'll always be my dad."

I continued on. "But, eventually and under the right conditions, that can be an open path we can both take, I think."

"Unconditionally?" she asked.

I thought about it for a moment. "Some conditions may apply, but I'll let you know what they are as they come up."

She looked off to the side and considered it. "Okay," she finally said. "But I have one condition. And only one."

"Okay," I said cautiously.

"If and when we make it to... the whole sex thing... I still get to call you Daddy." I stared at her for a long moment, opened my mouth to ask why, but closed it promptly. She interpreted my near response and shrugged. "What can I say?" she asked innocently. "It's a kink I have. Like I said: you'll always be my father to me, no matter what. Even then."

My phone rang. Alice again. Helena watched me while I took a few seconds to consider ignoring the call. I decided that, the situation being what it is, ignoring the call would be a poor choice. But I wasn't about to be happy about the interruption. I accepted the call and transferred it to my desktop computer. This meant that Helena would also be privy to the conversation, but she knew well enough to stay silent. "Hello, Alice. Please tell me this is good news."

Alice paused. "Well," she said, "it's news, but I wouldn't call it good."

"Hit me."

"Mohad contacted the FBI. He got shunted to the NSA, who's taking over the investigation."

I soaked that in for a moment. The National Security Agency taking over the investigation could mean only one thing. "Which group?"

"The al Gazi," she replied. "Literally translates to Servants of God who will cleanse the earth of filth."

I let out a low, long whistle. One more in a long line of terrorist groups, the Gazi have been growing in number for the last decade and they mean business. Anything they deem as "filthy", meaning an aberration of God, is on their kill list. Everything from reality TV to fast food, they mainly focus their attacks on businesses, industries and organizations that they believe subvert Mankind's ability to achieve spiritual purity. They're like PETA but angrier.

"I'm aware of them," I told her. "So the NSA believes they're behind this?"

"From what Mohad told me, yes. And he agrees with them. Actually, it's more like a confirmed fact than a belief. The good news is that we can check industrial espionage from competitors off the list. They just announced their intentions to destroy us on their official website. Took credit for everything and promise to intensify their attacks until we agree to dissolve BioBotz. Apparently they feel that correcting genetic disorders is against the will of Allah."

I sighed. "Of course they do." I thought about it a second. "I'm guessing that Mohad has increased security at all overseas installations."

"He has, yes," Alice said. "And the NSA has asked that we give them access to all of the emails and communications made by Blevins. They want to find out who his point of contact was."

"Give it to them," I ordered without hesitation. "And I want a carefully crafted press release put out within the hour. Something about condemning the actions of terrorists, never capitulating to the whims of radical extremists, and a layman's explanation of what we do and why." I paused and then added. "Let's poke the bear a little bit. Toss in a blurb about science and religion going hand-in-hand to protect the sanctity of life for all human beings. Also, we're dropping the cost of BeneGene by 25%."

It was Alice's turn to whistle appreciatively. "You do realize that's going to piss off more than just the Gazi, right?"

I nodded. "That's the point. If they want to drag what we do into the religious spectrum, let's give 'em more than they expected. Let the other religions chime in on the conversation and duke it out among each other about who has the right to hate or love us more. I promise you: sales will go through the roof. The board will balk, but if you phrase it correctly, they'll get on the boat pretty fast. They're selfish bastards, but they're not stupid."

"Very well," she said. "You're the boss. I'll take care of it and send you a final draft before we release it."

I thanked her before ending the call, then immediately called my private security service and ordered increased drone protection on the house. When I put my phone away, Helena eyed me carefully.

"What?" I asked.

"Aren't you going in? Seems to me that this is the kind of thing that needs your attention," she said.

"Why should I?" I asked. "Once that press release goes out, BioBotz is going to be just about the safest corporation on earth."

"You're going to have everyone up in arms over this."

I waved her concerns aside. "Not as much as you might think," I told her. "Several bishops are using BeneGene to address personal genetic defects. Quietly, of course, but they're using it. So are some pretty prominent congressmen and senators, all of whom are shining bastions of the evangelical set. They might squawk a bit at first, just to appeal to their bases and followers at the temerity of a scientific organization invoking a religious ideology, but they'll eventually come around to defending us because we're helping people. Then it becomes a religious war between the Gazi and everyone else. By the time it's all said and done, we'll have people standing around our facilities in defense of us and they'll do it because their spiritual leaders will tell them that God wants them to." I grinned wolfishly. "The media will love it."

Helena narrowed her eyes at me. "I sometimes wonder just what kind of engineer you really are."

I shrugged. "Social politics is just like any other machine: it needs fuel to run. All any religious group really wants is someone to defend and someone to fight. By doing this, I make us the good guys and further alienate the Gazi. Trust me, I know what I'm doing here."

She didn't seem entirely convinced, but let it go at that. "So... about the other thing. How do you plan to deal with that when security is increased?"

Again, I waved that concern aside. "Not a problem. Security will be looking out, not in. You and I will be safe as kittens here."

She pushed away from the chair she sat in and began to walk slowly towards me. "Do you realize how sexy you are when you're in command mode like that?" she asked.

I gulped but tried to play it off. "Just doing my job, Sweetheart."

She rounded the corner of the desk and sat down in my lap. "You do it very well," she said and looked deeply into my eyes.

Out of reflex, my hands went to her hips to hold her in place. Beneath the fabric of her summer dress, I didn't feel the tell-tale presence of underwear. With her so close to me, I'd have to be blind not to notice the lust in her eyes. "Well... I try," I said lamely. I could feel the warmth of her bottom through her dress and began to notice a stirring in my sweats. God damn, she was so sexy!

She squirmed a little bit as she draped her arms across my shoulders and neck. "You know I'm going to get my way, don't you?" she asked.

"Probably," I said. "I mean, yeah, you probably will."

She leaned in, her mouth just a mere inch from mine. "Good," she said. She shifted her weight just a tiny bit more, making it clear that she could now feel the growth under her bottom. Then she abruptly stood up and started to walk out of the office. "Just so long as we understand each other."

Chapter 06

While I wasn't exactly right in how the media would respond to our move, I was ultimately vindicated when they brought religious talking heads into the picture. Even the Pope got into the mix, much to my surprise, and came out in favor of supporting us against the Gazi. After that, it was like we'd suddenly become the only floating object in a sea full of rats- everyone was clamoring for a chance to get on board. And, sure enough, there was already talk of human shields, spurred by religious principle, wanting to take up residence around our field offices all around the world. The Muslims, especially, wanted to make a good turn-out in our defense. Our own security forces were trying to coordinate with religious leaders in their local areas on how to best make that defense workable.

Alice kept me up to date on everything. The Board was, as expected, a bit recalcitrant at first about my decisions. But when we started amassing a small army of religious defenders, they clammed up and gave tacit approval to me for dealing with the situation from there on out. They'd be watching me like a hawk, of course, but they were willing to trust me for the time being... or until I fucked it up so bad that they could wrench control from me and show me how they think things ought to go. So I made it clear to Alice that things were expected to go perfectly smooth. Ignoring the fact that there were several factors outside of our control, she was only too happy to accept her responsibility.

The only real surprise for me was when I got a personal call from the Director of Homeland Security. On the face of it, our conversation was congenial, even friendly, despite the fact that neither of us had ever spoken to each other before. The subtext of the conversation, however, was nothing like that. In fact, it was almost threatening. Basically, from his end, it read like this:

"Thanks for the help and info, but it's time to step off our dicks and let us do our job. Stay out of our way and don't make things more complicated. That means getting out of the media spotlight. If you fuck it up for us, I will find a way to turn this shit around on you and destroy your company. This is an international security issue now and there's more players in this game than you know of or can count."

Of course he didn't come right out and say any of that. Like I said, there was a lot of subtext. But that was the point of the call. And, frankly, I was more than happy to agree. I didn't want any more complication than was absolutely necessary. So, at the end of our call, I was the one who broke the subtext and came right down to the point. I told him, "We'll stay out of your way. I just want this mess cleaned up and I would like to stop being a target. If you can make that happen, we'll gladly let you."

That brought him up short. He was used to dealing with politicians, who spoke in almost nothing but subtext and innuendo. Being a scientist and a corporate CEO, I don't play those games. But he recovered quickly, gave me a nod of approval and bid me a good day.

With that done, I felt a large weight lifted off my shoulders somewhat. The problem wasn't completely resolved and I wasn't foolish enough to believe it was, but it was now in the hands of enough other people that I didn't have to worry about it as much and that made me exceedingly happy. Now I could focus on my daughter.

It was late afternoon by the point. I shut down my computer system and went in search of Helena. Finding her wasn't that difficult- she was in her room. The door was only slightly ajar, so I knocked on it gently. Her voice replied, "Come in, Dad."

I pushed her door open slowly. While she enjoys her femininity, Helena never really went through a "girly" phase regarding how she decorated her room. In truth, she preferred the Spartan look- very little clutter or "stuff" to distract her. She had a respectable bookshelf filled with material ranging from medicine to science fiction, all of it organized by category and in alphabetical order of author. You can learn a lot about a person by looking at their bookshelf and it was clearly evident that my daughter was one smart cookie. She had some pictures of friends and us around her desk, but beyond that there wasn't really much to glean about her personality in her bedroom. She never left her clothes out or put up posters or any of that other typical stuff you'd expect to find in a young adult's personal quarters. Take away the pictures and your average psychologist would walk into the room and get the impression that its occupant was anywhere from 30 to 50 years old and probably female- beyond that, though, they'd be hard pressed to learn more just by glancing around.

When my eyes fell upon her bed, they widened. She was lying atop it and wearing nothing at all. For a brief second, I drank in her nudity with frank appreciation. She was laying on her side, her left knee curled up to stabilize her body, and reading something on her laptop computer. Her breasts, capped by very pink and erect nipples, drooped only slightly in obedience to gravity's demands, caught between the laws of physics and youthful beauty. She draped a hand lazily on her hip and smirked up at me.

"You're staring," she playfully admonished.

I blinked and shook my head abruptly. "Sorry," I said.

"Don't be," she replied. "I like it."

I swallowed the frog in my throat. "So... do you lounge around naked in your room often these days or is this a new thing?"

She sat up and curled her legs under her without bothering to hide her nakedness from my view. "A bit of both, actually," she answered. "I don't usually go this free when you're around the house, but considering the circumstances..."