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Crux

Page 17

by James Byron Huggins


  ***

  Amanda awoke in their “cell” and felt she’d slept for at least three hours. She vaguely wondered if they had slipped something into her last meal the previous evening but dismissed it as irrelevant. After all, they were going to die, anyway.

  Thankfully, they’d secured Isaiah and her in something like an underground hotel room with two beds, a kitchen, sink, and bathroom so they’d passed yesterday and last night in relative comfort and, the best part, they hadn’t seen Blanchard again.

  She turned as the door opened and a man entered.

  He was aristocratic and aquiline and Amanda effortlessly identified him as French. There was simply something about the high forehead and his jet-black hair that refused to admit his age, as well as the patrician cut of his suit. He was a bit taller than Isaiah, but less muscular, and spoke with an undisguised accent.

  “Ms. Deker,” he smiled. He stretched out a hand to Isaiah, “And I’ve been told that Isaiah is your only name, but that’s fine with me. I like a man who likes to keep a secret. Would you mind if we shared a few words?”

  “Not at all,” said Isaiah without obvious hostility.

  Amanda glanced down the corridor where guards were bearing three stretchers like those used on a battlefield. They were canvas, flat, and hand carried. She was vaguely surprised they weren’t green like those she’d seen in war photographs.

  A bloody arm suddenly fell from one of the stretchers.

  And when it fell, it’s not like it dangled from the stretcher. Rather, it fell completely unattached to the floor and, in the long-lasting moment, Amanda got a wide-eyed look at the dismembered, bloody corpse that lay beneath a cheap blue tarp like her daddy had used to cover the lawnmower. She saw a bloody head beside a shoulder and an unattached arm laid across its chest. She glimpsed, barely, that the left leg had been stripped of flesh to the surprisingly white bone.

  “Hold up!” the rear guard called and the other turned.

  “Damn!” the second guard exclaimed. “Cover him up, man! If anybody sees this, we’ll be chasing down nervous breakdowns all day!”

  The tall man standing in the opening of the room calmly closed the door, shutting away the scene, as well. “I am sorry,” he stated benignly. “Tragic accidents do sometimes occur at facilities that use vast amounts of electrical energy. Even the smallest mistake can cost a human life.”

  “And you would be Monsieur Francois?” asked Isaiah.

  Francois beamed. “At your service.”

  “I heard you lost three more people,” Isaiah continued. “That would make seventeen in total, wouldn’t it? Ad astra per aspera?”

  “Yes,” Director Francois agreed. “A rough road leads to the stars.”

  “Indeed. It appears you’re racking up quite a body count in your quest.”

  Director Francois seemed to sigh yet his wide chest barely lifted. Then he said, “It’s true that we’ve recently had a rash of very unusual accidents. Today we lost three good men. Yesterday we lost a track worker who wandered off his detail. But we are presently reviewing safety procedures and we’re quite confident that any imperfect measures will be addressed. But, as with any cutting-edge scientific endeavor, the sword devours one side as well as the other. And, as you know, there is no science without experimentation and experimentation always involves a level of risk, so accidents sometimes happen.”

  “When you intentionally allow a demonic entity to run loose, it’s not an accidental death,” said Isaiah. “It’s conspiracy to commit murder.” He stared. “You opened a portal to another dimension, but it left one of its own to open the portal from this side if its demonic brethren can’t open it from their side. So this creature has been here with you since you lost your physicists. And you’ve known that it was here, and that makes you guilty of conspiracy because it has to eat, and that’s why you’ve been losing people to it. In fact, that’s why you’ve been sacrificing people to it.” He paused. “I expect that it’s developed quite a taste for human flesh by now.”

  Francois acted as if Isaiah had said nothing as he continued, “Ms. Deker, I have been notified that Interpol is very much aware of your presence here. But I must advise you before you decide to speak with them. It might be extremely inconvenient for all of us if the agents were made aware of your recent hostilities toward our personnel, including gravely wounding one of them in the leg. In fact, crippling him and ruining his chance for a pension, which opens you to what is guaranteed to be a very substantial civil settlement that I do not believe you are capable of paying.”

  “And how is my dear Fred doing since I shot him in the leg?” asked Amanda.

  “He’s in the infirmary in stable condition, thank you for asking.”

  “Believe me, it was nothing.”

  Francois strolled forward and stopped as if there were an invisible wall separating himself from anything less than himself, which was everything. “I only mention the incident because the rather private fellowship that manages this facility wishes to avoid any third-party intrusions upon our restricted activities. But if we are forced to report your use of a firearm to maim one of our security personnel then we will have no choice but to enjoin full criminal and civil actions against you. And that is something we very much wish to avoid. So I ask you plainly. What do you want to do about the situation?”

  “It was his gun and he threatened my life,” stated Amanda. “I’m sure Interpol would be glad to hear your side of the story as well as ours.”

  “We trust you’ll handle the situation most tastefully,” Isaiah said forcefully to Francois. “We’ll just take the money and run.”

  “That would be wise,” Francois murmured as he walked away a single step before stopping in place to turn. “And so you two would be content to return home despite misgivings about your sister’s tragic death?”

  “I need a better explanation than what you’ve provided,” said Amanda.

  Isaiah said emphatically, “No. We don’t need any more explanations.”

  “I want to see her body.”

  “I’m afraid your sister’s body was tragically destroyed in the accident, so there is no body to examine,” Francois answered coolly. “I understand both your grief and frustration, Ms. Deker, and although I am accustomed to bearing tragic news to inconsolable loved ones of those lost in both the construction and the maintenance of this facility, I have concluded that there is simply no painless way to convey these events. Nor is there anything I can say to ease your suffering, so I will not attempt what is not possible.”

  Francois watched them before he asked, “Would you like to see your sister’s workstation? Then I can more completely explain to you what happened. I assure you that there was nothing nefarious afoot. We are hiding nothing, nor are we betraying anything by revealing certain aspects of this facility that we would prefer to remain private. Your loss certainly privileges you to such knowledge. And I do not wish to indulge your good friend’s imaginative thoughts of demons and creatures from alternate dimensions running amok and killing us at their leisure, so he is also welcome to come.”

  He waited while Amanda held his gaze. Then he added, “I’m sure that when you see the dangers that your sister obliged to undertake in her very important job you will view her tragic death in another light. You will see her as the hero of science that she really was, and not the meaningless victim of an arrogant and heartless bureaucratic machine. I will not say that I am offended by Mr. Isaiah’s imputations, but I will defend myself by opening the doors of this institution so you may judge freely, for yourself, whether your sister’s sacrifice was in vain or whether it assisted science in reaching a bold new frontier.”

  “We’ll just take the money and go home,” said Isaiah.

  “I believe you owe your sister this much respect,” said Francois as if Isaiah hadn’t spoken. “And … and I never wish to make these matters more painful
than necessary, but I personally knew your sister, Ms. Decker.”

  Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “You knew Cynthia?”

  Francois grimaced as he continued, “Yes, I knew her. I also knew she required special assistance and I was diligent to make certain arrangements to accommodate her. And, tragically, I was not unaware of the many rumors, innuendos, conspiracy theories, accusations, and outright lies that have sullied your sister’s great contribution to this institution’s priorities, which have nothing to do with the occult or other such drivel. Those are all meaningless lies parlayed by a myopic academia that will never understand scientific progress until they need it to save their meaningless lives. Indeed, your sister was a scientist, Ms. Decker, and a proud scientist. She was even a great scientist despite her handicap, which I, personally, never considered a handicap at all, but, rather, a gift from God. And her work was not in vain. So, please, allow me to show you what your sister achieved before you drag both Cynthia’s name and her contribution through the mire of an investigation that will do neither Cynthia nor this facility any justice.”

  “That’s good enough for us,” said Isaiah, nodding at Amanda.

  Amanda’s brow hardened as she glanced at Isaiah.

  He minutely shook his head.

  “Or,” Francois added placidly as he lifted a phone, “I will call Interpol’s Geneva station and their agents could be here within the hour.” He paused. “Yes. I can do that. Or you can simply take one hour to see what your sister achieved. And, after that, if you wish to further pursue this avenue, I will not impede you. Even now, you are free to leave or stay. The choice is yours.”

  “If we’re free to go, then why did Blanchard imprison us in this room all day yesterday and last night?” asked Amanda bitterly.

  “Mr. Blanchard’s limited authority, and his use of it, are one example of why he does not possess additional authority,” said Francois apologetically. “The fact is that Mr. Blanchard is in charge of the day-to-day management of the compound, but he has no authority in matters of experimentation or scheduling or security or anything else that might be critical to operations of this facility. And, in moments of crisis, he sometimes makes decisions that he is unqualified, and unauthorized, to make.” He bowed minutely. “That is why I was informed of this situation and why I have intervened. First, I did not want you to be accidentally injured in Mr. Blanchard’s zeal. Secondly, well, we have nothing to hide, Ms. Decker. And if you will allow me to show you, I believe you will agree. And then you will understand that your sister’s death was only an unfortunate accident and I will personally insure your safe passage to the airport.”

  “This is nothing like Blanchard told us when we talked to him earlier,” Amanda shook her head. “And something tells me he was not lying.” She cast Isaiah a glance; he held her stare and silently mouthed, “Take … the … deal.”

  “I think,” said Amanda at last, “that we’ll take our chances with Interpol, Mr. Francois.” She nodded at the phone. “Make the call.”

  Isaiah bowed his head.

  “What?” Amanda exclaimed. “Isaiah! What is it?”

  Francois stared down with the most angrily cloaked aura of disappointment Amanda had ever sensed. “A pity,” he smiled tightly. Then he picked up the phone and, after a moment, said, “Would you please escort Ms. Decker and her bodyguard to the collider corridor? Yes, in full restraints. Thank you.”

  With that, Francois walked past them and out the door, closing it quietly.

  Isaiah’s voice was dismal. “I hate to be the kind of guy to say I told you so …”

  “I heard you!” Amanda gritted. “Hey! I told him to call Interpol, didn’t I? What else did you expect me to do? Call ’em myself? We’re prisoners! And that phone didn’t even work when we got here! I know! I checked! Why did he even go through that masquerade in the first place? Why didn’t they just throw us under the train to begin with? Like Anna Karenina! I’m gonna read that book! Why waste time like this?”

  Isaiah blinked slowly and answered even more slowly, “He was trying to get this institution out of a very uncomfortable situation without killing us because that will certainly bring about an investigation by both Interpol and the FBI. So he would have gladly given you five million bucks. He would have gladly flown us home first class. He would have happily provided Cynthia, body or not, with any old-world mausoleum near your home so you could visit her. There is nothing he wouldn’t have done to make you happy so you’d forget this whole thing.”

  “So what was all that crap about calling Interpol?”

  “You don’t understand,” answered Isaiah. “He was willing to do anything but call Interpol. That’s why he was hoping you would go with him to the Observation Room. Then they would run some kind of harmless experiment past you and you’d see that there’s nothing more dangerous about this place than any nuclear facility. After that, they’d give us a car and let us go—unharmed, mind you—down the road with our unprovable accusations. It would be nothing Interpol hasn’t heard a thousand times and Interpol would do nothing because we would be alive and you would be rich. And this place could continue like they’ve continued for the last one hundred years.”

  “And now?” Amanda asked, wide-eyed. “Now they’re gonna kill us?”

  Isaiah nodded.

  “Jesus, Isaiah!” Amanda stomped a foot and lifted her hands. “How did you get us into this mess? I thought you were good at this stuff! This isn’t what Deborah told me about you! I’ll tell ya that!”

  Isaiah rolled his gaze across the ceiling.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me to take the deal or they were going to kill us?” Amanda continued. “You could have told me plainly, ya know? Everything doesn’t have to be cryptic! But all you said was, we’ll take the deal! Hell! I’m not going to just take the deal! Not when I think that this place killed my sister! Christ! Talk about phone tag from Hell!”

  Isaiah spoke calmly, “If I had told you that they were going to kill us if you didn’t take the deal, then Francois would have known we were onto his game and playing him, instead. But you insisted on bringing Interpol into this, which is something they do indeed dread. And now, if Interpol is going to get drawn to this regardless whether we’re dead or alive, they would certainly prefer it if we’re dead. Now, there’s no reason for them not to see if the gateway takes you like it took Cynthia. Then they’ll just kill me, too. Interpol will poke around, find nothing, and this place will continue with business as usual.”

  “Well I didn’t figure all that out!” Amanda protested. “Couldn’t you have signaled me or something?”

  “Forget it.” Isaiah twisted as if to adjust his webbed belt. “Give me a minute and I might get us out of this. Just do me a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Ha. You’re hilarious.”

  The door opened and armed guards entered with heaps of chains and cloth restrains. It took them five minutes and when they were finally done Amanda felt like a death row prisoner. She had cuffs on both wrists, a chain around her waist, and a chain leading from her waist to her ankles, which were also cuffed. And, last, they placed a bag over her head after gagging her so that she couldn’t make a sound.

  She could only assume Isaiah got the same treatment.

  “Let’s go,” said a guard, grasping her elbow.

  Amanda shuffled down the deathly quiet corridor.

  ***

  “Okay,” said Janet, removing the hairpin from her ponytail. “Let’s go through this again because I don’t want to kill myself.”

  Roy nodded, “Go ahead.”

  Janet held the long hairpin to a light bulb. “This thing is all-the-way solid, right? Like any other hairpin?”

  “Yep,” Roy nodded.

  “So it doesn’t hold any kind of liquid?

  “Nope.”

  “But one tou
ch of the tapered end of this thing will instantly disable anybody who gets in my way no matter how big he is?”

  “Right.”

  “Instantly?”

  “Instantly.”

  “Well,” Janet paused, “what if I accidentally stick myself?”

  “In its very diluted form, which this isn’t, propofol induces unconsciousness and stops you from breathing. It’s the same thing a surgeon gives you when he tells you to count backward from a hundred and you only make it to ninety-nine. Just remember: If you touch someone with the sharp end of that thing, it will put them down. But if you stick someone, you’ll kill them.” He stared. “Permanently.”

  Janet grunted, “Well, I’ve never heard of someone impermanently killed.”

  “My point is: Don’t stick yourself.”

  “Good safety tip.”

  “So? You ready?”

  “You guys are ridiculously dangerous, you know that?” asked Janet. “Anything else I should know?”

  “That’s it. Just don’t stick yourself.” Roy sniffed, gazed around the inside of the disguised utility van that had transported them from the warehouse to the CERN facility. “Okay,” he added. “We’re almost there. Once we drop you off at the gate, make your way to your station and we’ll make our way to one of the ‘D’ escape tunnels that lead from the collider. We’ll silently take out the guards and wait for you to scramble the alarm system. After that, you and Susan just stick to the plan. Roger that?”

  “Roger that,” Janet nodded.

  “Check your watch again.”

  Janet turned her wrist. “I’ve got exactly eight o’clock. Now.”

  “Perfect.” Roy clicked his watch. “And what time do you make your move?”

  “At nine. Straight up.”

 

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