by D. B. Goodin
Hunter thought for several seconds. “Yeah, that sounds right.”
Jony slouched in his chair.
“What’s the matter?” Hunter said.
“A qubit is a measurement of how powerful a quantum computer is: the more qubits, the more powerful. Did you overhear anything that Jeremiah said about how many qubits he had available?”
“Four thousand is what I heard.”
“What! If he has that much power, they could crack AlphaFour in a matter of minutes. The good thing is she’s inaccessible from the internet. I have the only key!” Jony said.
“Another surprising development is that Melissa has a daughter,” Hunter said.
“I didn’t know she ever dated anyone,” Dahlia said.
“She was a real party girl back in the day—”
“Anything else?” Jony said, cutting Hunter off.
For some reason, Jony looked nervous at the mention of her name.
Ahh, I must have struck a nerve. But why? Hunter thought.
“I was getting to the good part,” Hunter said as he looked around to gauge the temperature in the room. “Melissa’s daughter is sick—some illness—and they are planning to transfer her into another host. I didn’t know that was possible.”
“It isn’t,” Jony replied. “That would require advanced technology capable of growing human tissue. There’s also the matter of connecting the thousands of nerves from another host’s brain to the new one.”
“How do you know that?” Hunter asked.
“Hacking biotech is a hobby of mine,” Jony said.
“There are few surgeons who can do anything even close. We should do some research on these surgeons,” Dahlia said.
“Let’s see what I can find,” Jony said.
Chapter 14
Ron Allison and his assistant Jackson sat in Ron’s featureless office deep within Pretzelverse Games genetics lab, and research facility. We’re on to something, I can feel it, Ron thought.
“What are the results?” Ron said.
“Complete neural imbalance for subject X, but subject Y has taken to it,” Jackson said.
“Interesting. What breed of animal?”
“Both subjects are dogs: a corgi and a Great Dane. The corgi was the most unstable. It started attacking other bigger dogs and almost got ripped to shreds.”
“Interesting. How are the dogs reacting to the new formula?”
“Well . . . they are working together now,” Jackson said.
“Excellent news. Keep me posted on your progress.”
Ron made to leave, and then stopped, deep in thought. “Any progress on the other animals?” he asked.
“The monkeys are showing significant progress. One of the monkeys had a visible tumor before we used the new treatment, but their temperament has changed,” Jackson said.
“How so?”
“They are attacking any human who gets close to their cages,” Jackson said.
Ron rubbed his bald head, deep in concentration.
“Is it time to tell the big man? About the tumor-healing properties, I mean?”
“Not yet. I’m saving this news for the right moment.”
Jackson nodded before exiting the room.
Alexander Vandervoss entered the research facility.
“Jackson!” Alexander said.
A young man in his late twenties turned around.
“Hello, Mr. Vandervoss. Can I help you with something?”
“Is Ron available? I was just about to check his office,” Alexander said.
“I wouldn’t bother. He’s in the lab with Ash,” Jackson said.
“Who’s Ash?”
“Dr. Ash Williams is Ron’s chief scientist and reports to him,” Jackson said.
“Interesting. Show me where I can find this lab.”
“Follow me,” Jackson said.
A minute later, Jackson and Alexander entered the lab facility. Ash and Ron were huddled around an electron microscope; Alexander looked at Jackson and put a finger over his lips. Jackson nodded.
“We did it! The cells are stable enough to begin the cloning process,” Ron said.
“That is wonderful news,” Ash said.
“It is, but it is only the beginning. We still need to stabilize the sample.”
“I want to run an experiment using the technology in my dissertation,” Ash said.
“You mean use human DNA to activate your cyborgs?” Ron gave Ash a disapproving look. “No way. I won’t allow it.”
“You use DNA to clone dogs, cats, and even goats!” Ash countered.
“Those are animals. I’m not experimenting on humans. Besides, I only have enough of the compound for my next batch of experiments, which are scheduled for testing tomorrow.”
“How long will it take produce more?”
“Several weeks, at least,” Ron said.
“My life’s work involves helping humans,” Ash said. Ash gave Ron a pleading look. “I have several signed waivers for patients dying for this, and you’re worried about corporate profits.”
“Look, Dr. Williams,” said Ron with a sigh, “it’s not that I don’t want to help you. I believe in your cause, but management is threatening to shut me down if I don’t produce results—and soon. I would wait until next week, but the day after tomorrow is a holiday and we need to show results before then.”
“Understood,” Ash said.
Ash turned to leave the building, and she almost ran into Alexander Vandervoss.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Ash said as she left.
“How long have you been standing there?” Ron demanded.
“Long enough to see you have made significant progress. The board will be very happy!” Alexander replied.
“Wait just a minute. You can’t tell them anything . . . yet!”
“Why not? I need to show the investors something. They are getting restless,” Alexander said.
“Give me another month—then you shall have results.”
Alexander thought for a moment.
“You have a week to produce something, and from the looks of it, tomorrow’s test will be a day to remember. Keep me posted,” Alexander said, leaving Ron to his thoughts. Jackson followed quickly behind.
Twenty minutes later, Ash left the facility’s parking lot, driving her Alfa Romeo at high speed. It had snowed earlier, so the roads were slick but not impassible. As soon as she left, she made a sharp turn toward the autobahn, which put her into a controlled slide. She loved driving fast vehicles.
Best to slow down. I don’t need to get into an accident now!
She called Jeremiah, who picked up on the first ring.
“We have a problem. My charms have failed, so you need to brute force your way in,” Ash said.
“Head back to Edinburgh and prepare the antechamber. I’ve been told that April is in bad shape, but my team is at the ready,” Jeremiah said.
“Understood.”
Ash headed for the airport. She called her travel agent and booked the next flight to Scotland. First class. She parked in the short-term lot of Munich International Airport, fetched her “go” bag from the trunk, and headed to international departures. With any luck, I will be in London in a few hours. She glanced at her watch. Forty-five minutes before boarding—plenty of time.
She picked up the phone one last time before she would throw her burner phone away.
“Code?” a young voice answered.
“Delta five-one, autumn five-zero protocol,” Ash said.
“Well, hello, Dr. Williams. Should we prep the lab?” the technician said.
“Secure the incoming samples. We cannot let them spoil.”
“Of course, Dr. Williams.”
Jeremiah examined the architectural specifications of Pretzelverse’s cloning laboratory. “Time to see if these commandos are worth the money. I will have that sample,” Jeremiah said to his empty office.
Jeremiah’s phone rang. “Hello Ash, are you nearby?”r />
“Just landed at the airport, my laboratory is ready.” Dr. Ash said before severing the connection.
“Delta team, what’s your twenty?” Jeremiah said.
“We are heading toward the rear of the Pretzelverse cloning facility,” Commander Norris said.
“I’ve been monitoring the weather. A huge snowstorm will hit Munich soon.”
“Perfect cover. My men and I have been through much worse. A little snow will not bother us.”
“I’ve been told that the facility is running a minimal crew until tomorrow,” Jeremiah said. “You should have a free path to the vault. Do you have the code breaker?”
“I’ve come prepared,” Norris said.
“Excellent. We are on the clock, and you are looking for a bio-vault. It will not be in plain sight. My associate has provided a map of the facility. I have uploaded the location to your HUD.”
Norris tapped the side of his augmented reality goggles, and a wire-frame map of the facility became visible.
“Received.”
“Proceed when ready, commander,” Jeremiah said.
Security at the rear of the facility was inadequate. With the aid of a silencer, the two guards dropped like sacks of potatoes. Norris searched the bodies, found the card key, and used it to open the doors of the facility. They pushed through a set of double doors that revealed a large room with three additional exits. There were at least four visible lab technicians. Norris used hand signals to tell his men to fall back into the room nearest the red door.
“The facility is not empty. Civilians are everywhere. I don’t have any tranquilizer darts!” Norris said.
“Take them out. It is vital that I get my hands on that bio sample. It’s a matter of life and death, in fact,” Jeremiah said.
Norris switched to a private channel.
“I’m not keen on taking out innocents. Guards are one thing—they signed up for this. Civilians are another,” Norris said.
“What if I paid you double your rate?”
“No deal. But triple it and it will go a long way to easing my conscience.”
“Authorized. Now, get me that research,” Jeremiah said.
“Engaging with extreme prejudice.”
Norris switched comms so that he could order his men to engage.
“Eliminate the civilians,” Norris shouted.
The team opened fire on the lab technicians in the room, and within seconds they were down. Norris spotted a runner out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed the sniper rifle from its position on his back, focusing on the running target. Thank god for long hallways, Norris thought as he pulled the trigger. The runner went down. Further sweeps of the facility revealed at least five other technicians.
Norris scanned the room. Something was off. His skin tingled in anticipation. He gave hand signals to his men to fan out. Movement caught his eye, and he noticed a low, dark shape at the far end of the hallway. He listened for any signs of activity, but the lab was silent. How fitting, since it is now a tomb, Norris thought. The team moved into the room, when he heard a loud bang, then a low, guttural growling sound. Is that a dog? Norris looked up to see a large Great Dane leap onto him. The dog tried to make a snack out of his nose, he sweated as the beast got closer. Is this beast nuclear? Why is it generating so much heat? Norris was nauseated from the dog’s breath on his face. No leverage to use the sniper rifle. He reached for his knife, careful not to expose any body parts to the dog’s jaws. Got it! He was about to plunge the knife into the dog when he heard other screams. My men! The Great Dane’s snapping intensified, just missing his gloved hand. Norris plunged the knife into the dog’s right eye. He heard a yelp as the dog retreated.
He got up and couldn’t believe his eyes. He counted at least seven or eight dogs, all attacking his men. Shooting could be heard from almost every corner of the room. The animals were taking a lot of damage but kept charging. Norris raised his weapon to fend off an attacking corgi when the same Great Dane as before flanked him from his right side.
Impossible. I put a knife in this dog’s brain!
Norris started shooting. Several minutes later, he had the situation under control, and his men suffered only minor injuries. Norris bent over to inspect what was left of the Great Dane, which he’d peppered with bullets. Beside the bloody mess before him was part of a metal apparatus which appeared to be fused to the beast’s bones. Norris could see shiny reflections of metal where his had injured the beast. The dog has a metal skull. The heat radiating from it made Norris sweat.
“Are your animals down?” Norris shouted into the mic.
“Affirmative, but these dogs are not normal. They are robotic,” one of his men shouted.
“Let’s regroup,” Norris commanded.
Alexander Vandervoss sat at his computer terminal reviewing some marketing copy for the latest Pretzelverse PET 2.0 tracker advertisements. He pulled up the latest digital file. It featured a nondescript man with a half-rendered dog. The tagline read “Bring your best friend on your adventures.” The figures were reduced in size. The background featured a vast, futuristic landscape and was very detailed. Alexander was not a marketing expert, but he felt that this promotional poster was adequate enough to sell as a standalone item; it represented exactly what the Colossal Machine was about. He clicked on the “approve” button to accept the design. Been doing this for hours, Alexander thought. Time to wrap things up. At least this design is better than that pink poodle riding a horse.
Alexander stretched and yawned. Then something on his secondary monitor caught his eye.
What was that?
The monitor showed a live picture of the research lab, which was in disarray and looked like someone had ransacked the place. There were boxes, buckets, and furniture strewn about the lab. Closer examination revealed some liquid on the floor. Alexander’s brow furrowed in concentration. What the hell is going on down there? Is that a pair of legs? I must be tired. He rubbed his eyes. He picked up the phone and dialed security. A gruff-sounding man answered the line.
“Hello, this is Alexander Vandervoss.”
“Who?” the man asked.
“The CEO of Pretzelverse Games.” Alexander was annoyed. “Your boss!”
“Oh, sorry, sir!”
This guy must be new!
“I’m seeing a mess in the research lab. Looks like someone ransacked the place!”
“Oh. I don’t see any alarms on my panel.”
“Can you check it out?”
“Yeah, sure. I will send someone down there.” The guard paused for a moment, and then asked, “Where are you reporting this from, Mr. Vandervoss?”
“The main executive tower.”
“Is there anyone else with you?”
“I’m alone. What diff—”
Alexander hung up. He felt uneasy concerning this line of questioning. He picked up the phone and dialed Alexei Breven. It was late. I trust Alexei.
“Da?”
“Alexei?”
“Hello, Alexander, how can I help you?” He answered like it was business hours, not a late-night wake-up call. Alexander looked at his watch. It was 2:47 am.
“Sorry to call so late, but there is a problem in the research lab.”
“Genetics or Neurology?”
“Genetics, where the animals are cloned.”
Silence.
“Alexei, are you there?”
“Da, I’m sending a team to investigate.”
“I called building security. They are investigating, too.”
“That was a mistake; get out—now!”
Alexander was about to hang up when a searing pain erupted from his ear. Something hot knocked the phone handset to the ground. His face was on fire. He put his hand up to his ear, pulled back and looked at his hand. Blood. My blood? Before he could process this thought, he felt more pain erupt from his chest, neck, and the other side of his face. Alexander heard gunshots as he dropped to the floor behind the desk. He could see boots from se
veral men rushing into the room from his vantage point. Alexander tried crawling under the desk to avoid additional injury. His vision blurred, and everything went dark.
Ron woke to an alarm. “Did someone break into the lab?” Once, a group of local teenagers had tried to break into the lab hoping to score some drugs. That was the only other time the alarm had sounded. Ron called the lab. No answer.
Someone should be manning the damn phones, Ron thought.
Ron dialed the emergency security number.
“Building security,” a man answered in a boring monotone voice.
“This is Ron Allison, head of the research lab. Sorry to bother you so late, but I received an alarm. Is everything okay there?”
“What sort of alarm?” The tone of the man had changed.
“When a break-in at the lab occurs, I receive an alarm: the old-fashioned contact sensor kind, not the new-fangled app kind,” Rob said.
Silence.
“Are you still there?”
“Sorry, yes. We’ve been having technical problems all evening. It’s nothing serious,” the man said.
“That may be, but I have critical research in that lab,” Ron said.
“Tell you what. If I check out the alarm, would that make you feel better?”
“That would. Please call me.”
Ron didn’t like this. It felt wrong. Five minutes later, he was driving to the research lab. With any luck, he’d be there in half an hour. Snow started falling as he drove to the lab.
Thirty-five minutes later, Ron pulled up to the research lab and pulled into the underground parking garage. Most of Pretzelverse’s buildings were connected to the various underground parking garages throughout Pretzelverse’s campus. Ron pulled into his assigned parking spot and tried to access the doors to the elevators. Damn—the badge reader’s not working. I guess that feller was right about the technical problems with the building. I just hope that the specimens are still intact, Ron thought. He walked across the garage. He would need to walk around the exterior of the facility to see if he could access the lab now.