So I have about 50 stories/plays I am working on. I lost some during a drive cleanup so I think I will start posting the partials here so that doesn't happen again.

I've been busy these last few years working on several projects not counting my job. One of the projects is hard wiring Photocells as rudimentary eyes to a keyboard interface. Not sure what I want to do with it yet. I have been working on what I call Apocalypse Tech. I am considering doing it as a Youtube endeavor. Kind of like Macgyver meets Norm Abrams and they kill and eat Rick Grimes.

Just kidding. About the Rick Grimes part. The idea is to have an artificial S#!t Hit The Fan scenario where you are caught with your pants down but you just happen to be that kind of guy who stores copper, aluminum, circuit boards, etc for scrapping and you have to figure out ways to make yourself safer. Due to all the nuts floating around I will leave out the hundred ways you can make explosives, rockets, and guided missiles from tampons and Clorox. Or whatever else you may have under your kitchen sink. You Mr. Wizard fans and fans of Tannerite videos know what I'm sayin'

Writing short stories and plays helps me play with the ideas in my head while I work on them.

Here is one play, possibly might just edit it into a story complete with quotation marks and "he said angrily" type crap after each sentence. Not sure yet.

Here it is. Incidentally I finished FROZEN WORLD if anyone wants to go back and read it. I also have some new ideas for the DNA Imaging research. Some of that idea is in this story.

Enjoy.

                                                             Working Title - HEXMEN

Max: If you were to send a message using atoms or molecules what would your medium be?

John: Explain what you mean by medium? Are we talking natural or common forms or something quote unquote unnatural that would draw attention?

Charles: Oh, good question John.

John: I try to re-earn my Alfred Prize everyday old man.

[laughter from the group]

Max: Quite right. That is the question isn't it. If you were trying to send a message...

Tom: Or archive data.

Max: Or archive data, perhaps a library, would you use something common or unique?

Tom: Depends on whether or not you want it found or not. If you were to say encode a libary of knowledge for yourself or society you would choose whatever allows you a lot of storage and long shelf life. And presumably retrieval.

John: We are drifting I think. Max said message. Is this a real world problem or a hypothetical for one of your books?

Max: Always the inquisitor aren't you John?

Tom: Torquemada Lipton.

[laughter]

John: I prefer Socrates Lipton thank you. No witches here I think.

Charles: Well except for James maybe. Quantum mechanics and all.

James: Spooky action at a distance is freaky but Charles has raised the dead. He's the necromancer you seek.

Charles: Reviving a bacterium is hardly raising the dead. They are more like machines. Perfect little three point eight billion year old machines. Hardy little buggers. I dont think I revived the thirty thousand year old buggers as much as just woke them up.

John: You said buggers twice. Bad form.

Charles: I have a limited vocabulary.

Max: To refocus the discussion the answer to John's question, message or archive, I am interested in both. And in an interesting moment of synchronicity Charles I would like to know if you ever sequenced your little friends.

Charles: No. CDC took them. But you already know that. And I see now your question wasn't a casual one. You have something to say.

James: Before you answer that Max I have a flight scheduled for eight am. If I cancel right now I save four hundred bucks.

[Max nods and points to James' phone already in his hand.]

[James starts tapping the screen then pulls back.]

James:  What the hell?

Max: What?

James: As soon as I logged on it said my flight was cancelled.

[James looks up at Max squinting]

Max: Don't look at me. What's it say?

James: No reason. Just flight cancelled. I've been refunded.

Max: Looks like it solved itself.

James: Yeah. Weird.

Tom: Is this Big G business Max?

Max: Perhaps. Big I maybe. Don't know whose all in yet.

Charles: Shit!

[Charles looks around]

Max: We are fine here. Electromagnetically anyway. Thanks to our friend Faraday.

James: Uh, I just got a signal on my phone. The cage is leaking.

Max: Shoot. Forgot to turn it on.

[Max reaches into his pocket and pulls out a remote and clicks a button.]

Max: Okay now we are okay.

Tom: Hang on I have something else.

[Tom stands up and looks around. The glass arboretum was a simple structure. Metal struts and glass]

Tom: Laminate with LCD film sandwiched?

Max: Yes.

[Tom walks to a pane of glass in the center of the wall facing the closest apartment building and attaches a device the size of a small smart phone to the glass. He touches the screen. An audible beep is emitted.]

Max: Laser mic scrambler?

Tom: A little impromptu  but yes.

Max: Random pulses through the structure?

Tom: Yes. I have a giant file I created using that old random generator I built in college. Never seen one better. I added a mic that pics up ambient sounds and injects them into the pulse so that even if someone had my files, which you never know, the introduction of new sounds into the output will cause the pulses to switch randomly. I can't break it.

Max: Good enough for me.

James: You're still active aren't you?

Tom: Consulting expert. Like to keep my feet wet.

Charles: Explains the house in Denver.

Max: You should see Robert's. Built like a damn Matryoshka doll.

John: Layers. Onions have layers.

Charles: Yeah but nobody likes onions.

Tom: Or ogres.

[laughter]

Max: Now where were we?

[Everyone grows serious again]

Tom: You know Robert will know we are all here.

Max: Of course. I invited him. He had another engagement.

John: But he's active. He wouldn't approve.

Max: Probably not of you keeping a sample of the buggers either but..."

James: And now it begins.

Charles: You know me to well.

[grins]

Max: No one here would have done otherwise.

Tom: So Max. How did you know Robert wouldn't come? A meeting of the Hex and he didn't come to rein us in?

Max: I'm working on a book and I'm picking your brains.

John: Ha! As if.

Max: No no. Totally plausible.

Charles: If you weren't Maximillian Toro, The Bull, that might float. But Bob The Builder isn't stupid. You would need to pick our brains as much as Tom would need us for Spook Tech.

Tom: You will have to give Robert an outline of your book just like I do. I assume you have one. And what did he have to do that supercedes The Six?

Max: Robert really scares you doesn't he?

Tom: Like airborne leprosy AIDS.

John: Jesus! Is that a thing now?

Charles: Still in development. Trials start next month.

[everyone stares at Charles]

Charles: Ha! Kidding. We couldn't get the leprosy part to take.

James: Bloody hell.

Max: To answer your question, and to move on, Tom, he had a thing at Dugway I believe. He of course wouldn't say but it didn't fit our schedules and it wasn't an appointment he could cancel. Having your schedules helped.

[Max smiled]

Tom: Clever.

Max: Thank you. But that doesn't mean he isn't watching.

Charles: Always watching.

[tips a glass of wine in a toast to the air]

Max: So Charles. Did you sequence it yet or not?

Charles: Before it woke up I began a sequencing run. I knew the CDC would be all over me, real one or otherwise, so I ran a simultaneous comparison against the real Human Genome data. Nothing spectacular as far as I got. They were on me pretty quick. They had all the clearances and paperwork. But the isolation van didn't look standard issue. Had some muscle with them too. I just turned everything over.

Max: Did you copy the gene file?

Charles: No time. Computer was eating cycles running the sequencing and the comparison. I hit save a million times but it never happened. At least the flashdrive they took was empty. When you sequence a thirty thousand year old bacteria and it draws the attention of The Big Eye and they send the Big Arm to get it. You just turn it over.

John: Charles. I am going to tell you this as your oldest friend. There is that much heat about a thirty thousand year old bacteria, that you sequenced and that set off the alarm bells, and drew the attention of the Big Eye, but you kept a sample? Is that smart?

Charles: Well when you put it like that. No.

James: I assume you took precautions. Level four and all that?

Charles: I didn't keep a living sample. The damn thing activated in the box. I think it was the light from the camera. They shot the box with what looked like a freaking microwave guide. Killing it I assume. Took the box, the frozen samples. Lost my favorite camera too. They reimbursed me though. Pretty damn quick actually.

James: And the other stuff?

Charles: Only the camera was mine. The university had crap for imaging. I retrofit my own camera.

John: Should have claimed the computer too.

Charles: One twenty thousand dollar proprietary camera, one computer, and various other things I threw in just to see what would happen. They paid the whole thing.

Max: You went sideways on them. Brilliant.

Tom: A diversion?

Charles: Something like that. Of course they knew some of it was bullshit. Who funds their own supercomputer hardware with deep pocket grant money available?

Tom: An eccentric former spook nutjob turned capitalist professor.

Charles: Exactly. It was a payoff. I took the payoff.

Tom: Please tell me you bought the boat?

[smiling]

Charles: I wish. It wasn't big boat money, but next time you visit you can take a dip in my new pool.

Tom: Sweet.

Max: Funny thing is it's not an act. Charles has gone native I think. You haven't even looked at it again have you?

Charles: I have embraced my new life Max. And while you have peaked my interest now I am satisfied not knowing.

Tom: And the pool?

Charles: I have embraced the pool. It's huge! Wave machine and current generator. You can swim forever and not reach the end.

Max: But you are curious aren't you?

Charles: Is it life changing? Or just another Mammoth Ebola we will weaponize? I mean what would this make? A couple dozen arrows in our nasty quiver of nasties?

Max: When did you become jaded?

Charles: About a week after joining The Hex. That's why when I made several good scores and they knew I was good I took the first opportunity to quit with my head intact. The world sucks enough. I know what we do is necessary for our corner of it but I had enough. I got out with my scalp and hopefully my soul intact. Cheers!

[Charles tips his glass toward Max]

Max: Would you like to sit this one out then? This is not a meeting of The Hex. This is a meeting of The Five. Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe it is now The Four.

Tom: Well this is turning serious. I hope it's worth it.

Max: It's worth it. Charles has just been asked if he wants to leave. I am formally asking Charles if he is in or out.

John: Jeez Max!

Charles: In or out?

[the atmosphere is now dead serious. The phrase in or out as a challenge was a serious one. A ritual among the members.]

James: Max?

Tom: It's been said. You know the rules.

John: I'm in.

Tom: Always in.

Max: Full in.

James: In.

[Charles looks around the room at his friends who have just voted to sever all ties with him if he votes out. He smiles.]

Charles: I'm in Max. I've got the damn illegal sample. But I'm in with this caveat. This better live up to its billing. I believe you said life changing. I could use a new life. Either way.

Max: Glad to hear it. And I assure you it is.

[Max reaches under the table and pulls out an object. James, sitting immediately to his right pulls back from the table looking sideways. The object is a laptop. James let's his breath out.]

Tom: Steady man. It's a laptop. Trust me I've seen one.

James: I expected a Walther PPK.

Max: Kiss my ass Jim I'm not that old school. Besides I prefer Sigs.

Charles: Oh shit he called you Jim. You've done it now.

[laughter again]

Max: Thanks Chuck.

[laughter again]

Max: All joking aside. Is the sample secure Charles?

Charles: Very. Deep sixed.

Max: Did you ever plan on sequencing it again?

Charles: I wanted to enjoy the pool first before Robert sends me to Siberia.

Tom: And to be seen enjoying the pool.

[Tom winks]

Charles: Ditto. Armageddon can wait. Remember that H1N1 flu bullshit a lifetime ago? Everyone in DC made a bundle on the stock for the antibiotic that wouldn't have worked. Mindless sheep. All flash and no plague. How anticlimactic can you get?

James: Sounds a little like you want something to happen.

Charles: Well Max is only half right. I'm not jaded as much as I am bored.

Tom: Wait until I show you James' Instapic account. Now that's disturbing.

James: Hey! What happens in Iraq stays in Iraq.

Max: Are you all done yet?

[looks around the room seriously. The group quiets down.]

Max: Now back to my original question.

Tom: If I were sending a message, using DNA, which I assume we are talking about, I would put in starts and stops, like a telegram. With the image encoded in between.

James: Why an image?

Charles: A picture is really worth a thousand words. A language, other than math, not spoken in thousands upons thousands of years, would be nearly impossible to decipher.

John: Geometry would be good but a straight up black and white photo would be the best. Maybe a grayscale gradient with two hundred and fifty six shades max. You could tuck that into a cell somewhere with a no trespass sequence to keep it from being part of any protein synthesis. Just straight copying no editing. Four bases times four possibilities. Two hundred and fifty six shades. Cuts out the codon confusion so you don't go chasing the codes for amino acids. Or maybe you do go chasing for amino acids and come up with zip.

Charles: You've given this some thought.

John: Actually a lot of people have. People have been writing their lab names in synthesized DNA for some time now. CRISPR Nine is a lot further along than the public knows. Shocker there. Not to be confused with the natural CRISPR function that stores DNA fragments from viruses as a library of sorts to fight infections. I think that's right. Anyway I bet Tom knows something about this. Data packing with DNA bases would be a great way to send coded message. Whose going to detect the blueprints of a bomb factory in Syria if they are in your snot? Why not images too?

Max: Well funny you say that John. Well not funny but suspicious. What are you not telling us.

John: I don't know what you have on that laptop Max but I have been paying attention while you and Charles were waving your dicks around. You don't ask in or out for nothing. And that something is thirty thousand years old. The tech I am talking about is only a few years old. And to be honest if you flip that laptop around and show me a black and white line drawing of a map and not of the Giza Pyramid under construction or Gobekli Tepi I'm headed to the door. This is getting old fast. This drama is laborious.

Tom: Good word usage.

John: Bite me.

[The doorbell rings]

Tom: You order pizza Max?

  [ Max closes the laptop and stows it under the table. He pulls out a pistol. A Sig Sauer P227.]

James: See Tom? He had a fucking gun under there!

[Tom snorts and pulls his own weapon. Max gets up and walks into the living room. He presses a button on his kitchen island in the spacious penthouse apartment. A recessed screen comes to life revealing a face. And image form the security desk in the lobby.]

Max: What is it Carl?

Carl: Sorry to bother you Mr. Toro. There is a lady here to see you. A Miss Katy Stein. She says you know her. She looks rough.

[The image switches to a young woman. Attractive except for the mascara lines running down her cheeks.]

Max: Send her up Carl.

Carl: Yes sir. On her way.

[Max hurries back to the group]

Max: It's Katy. Grab your tech of the glass Tom. She's on the way up and she looks like hell.

Tom: What's wrong?

Max: Don't know. We will soon enough.

[Max hurries back through the apartment, out the front door, and down the hall to the elevator. A few seconds pass and the doors open. Katy sees Max and rushes to him hugging him furiously. He waits a second then steps back at arms length.]

Max: Katy dear. What's wrong.

Katy: It's Dad Uncle Max. He's.....he's dead.

[She begins sobbing. Max walks her bact to the apartment. The other four men are in the living room waiting anxiously.]

Tom: Max? Katy?

[Max turns to Tom. A watery look in his eyes.]

Max: She says Robert is dead Tom.

[Katy wobbles and starts to collapse. Tom rushes over to help Max guider her to a chair. Tom could feel Max trembling too. No wonder. He just heard brother was dead.]

Tom: How? What?

[Katy looks at Tom tears streaming down her face]

Katy: He...He was on his way back from Utah. We were going to see a show tonight at the New Amsterdam. His plane went down on landing at Bennett Field. It burst into flames. They are saying no survivors.

[The five men looked at each other stunned]

END ACT ONE.