Olento Research Series Boxed Set: A Paranormal Science Fiction Thriller

by Sarah Noffke

  “Yes, I do think it’s a good idea if you forget that part of the rescue mission. Go right ahead,” she said, using the power of suggestive mind control.

  He nodded, the dull expression returning to his brown eyes. “Okay,” he said.

  “Now, on to other business. We have a situation and I think you might be in a position to help us defuse it,” she said, opening the file.

  “You need me on a case? Tell me when and where you need me to pause time and what you need me to do,” Kaleb said, eagerly rubbing his hands together.

  “See, this is what I meant. Not all situations can be fixed with stopping time,” she said and pointed at a newspaper article. A woman with soft shoulder-length curls was front and center on the top photo, a herd of people behind her holding protest posters. On the signs were a wolf’s face and a big red X over it. The title read, “Mormon Church Protests Werewolves.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Kaleb said, grabbing the file from in front of Adelaide. “That’s my mother.” His eyes widened before a loose expression of sentimentality flocked to them.

  “Exactly. She apparently organized all these protests and campaigns secretly, recruiting a huge number of followers,” Adelaide said.

  “She’s very influential with the church,” he said, his eyes scanning the article.

  “Yes, and religion binds the crazies together. Anyway, your mother is reporting that your father was murdered by a werewolf, although we know it was Morgan, who is now dead. Furthermore, she says she watched a silver and black werewolf attack a man in her front yard,” Adelaide said, her voice matter-of-fact. She almost sounded grown up.

  “Zephyr. She was watching when he attacked Morgan,” he said, a dawning on his face.

  “Good for you, you can follow along and retain information,” Adelaide said. “Now, you don’t want to go through training, but you also don’t want to dance on conference room tables anymore. Therefore, I want you to figure out how to defuse this situation. You know how your mother thinks and how the church operates. This has gotten too big for us to resolve with memory erasers. You need to create a solution that will take the attention off of the crazies and therefore keep your and the pack’s identity under wraps. The last thing we need is more mania over werewolves.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “. . . there was about him a suggestion of lurking ferocity, as though the Wild still lingered in him and the wolf in him merely slept.”

  - Jack London

  The massive man stood with his shoulders hunched over. Luolamies’s weight had doubled since the beginning of Project Neandertalin. Now the man, who hardly resembled one, was as wide from shoulder to shoulder as a door frame.

  Mika nodded Haiku beside Luolamies. He then pointed at the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. “Punch,” Haiku said to the caveman. Mika had Luolamies trained and now he could follow simple orders. And although he showed a propensity toward violence and anger, his behavior had been curved through shock treatment. Men were simply dogs and easily trained if the right method was implemented.

  Luolamies stomped forward once and launched his giant fist at the black punching bag. It rose off its chains and flew five feet up in the opposite direction. The bag then came back with incredible speed and knocked into Luolamies, who merely stumbled backward a few feet. The assault turned his eyes into daggers and he roared, bolting toward the bag that was swaying now. Haiku tapped a button in his hand and Luolamies immediately paused, convulsing from a shock originating from the device in his neck. His giant hand clapped to the side of his neck as he fell forward from the electricity generated from within. When he appeared calm Haiku said, “Luolamies, stand.”

  At once the beast of a man pushed up to his feet, grunting as he did.

  “We have a new clairvoyant report,” Drake said at Mika’s shoulder.

  He turned to find Isha beside the old scientist, her hand resting on the side of her head.

  “What is it?” Mika said.

  “Isha saw Malcolm Edwards. He gets thrown out of a casino in Las Vegas,” Drake said, handing a file over to his boss. “This happens tonight, off the main strip.”

  Mika nodded, turning to the caveman. “Luolamies,” he said, pulling the picture of Malcolm from the file. “You get this man. Okay?”

  “He’s not ready,” Drake said at Mika’s back.

  Mika turned at once, scolding Drake with a single look. “I don’t believe that’s your decision. You are to conduct the experiment and I assign them how I see fit.’’

  “But his behavior is still too erratic. I don’t think it’s a good—”

  “I don’t care what you think,” Mika said and spun back around, extending the file to Haiku, who stood a safe distance from Luolamies. “Take this and chaperone Luolamies to Las Vegas. I want you to bring Malcolm Edwards back.”

  “I could go. There’s some way I’m sure I could help,” said Kris, who had been invisible and flickered into solid form a few feet away.

  “Kris,” Mika said, drawing out her name into multiple syllables. “What have I said about sneaking around while invisible? You must really want to join your brother.”

  “How dare you?” she said, her hand flying to her mouth.

  Yes, throwing her dead brother in her face was cruel, but she was going to have to learn or Mika would make good on his threat. She was becoming too much of a liability. “And no, I’m quite certain that there’s no way you can help. This isn’t a reconnaissance mission. Now leave my sight before I decide to punish you.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Everybody needs his memories.

  They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.”

  - Saul Bellow

  Adelaide couldn’t shake the strange events in the lab. A lot had happened at Parantaa Research that she was having trouble understanding. Although she couldn’t explain the beakers flying off the countertops since no one else was in the room, she thought she knew someone who could help her with something else.

  “I agree that Adelaide is the coolest British chic in the Institute,” Aiden said, so loud Adelaide could hear it from the hallway. She rounded the corner to find Aiden standing with his hand on his hip and unabashed glee on his face. Beside him Roya was sitting on a work bench, looking bored.

  “Let me guess. Roya just had a flash that I was about to show up?” Adelaide said. Aiden was too nice. He really was the yin to Roya’s yang.

  “Right you are,” Aiden said, firing a finger gun at her. “We should get the kids together. Have a play date since the boys are the same age.”

  “Even if I wasn’t at all busy, the answer would be no. Your wife is as boring as a jigsaw puzzle and you’re as over-excitable as a terrier,” Adelaide said, blowing a piece of hair off of her face.

  “Why thank you,” Aiden chirped.

  “And I am extremely busy and not here to chat about robots. I saw something at Parantaa Research and need you to tell me what you think of it,” Adelaide said, pulling the drawing she’d done from her book. Before finding her father and becoming an agent, she’d wanted to be an artist and her skill showed that. The drawing on the paper was spot on based on what she saw. She had her photographic memory to thank for that as well.

  “For the love of holy science!” Aiden exclaimed, pressing his index and pointer fingers to his mouth. “You saw one of these? At Parantaa Research? Are you sure?”

  Although she wanted to insult Aiden for doubting what she saw, that’s exactly what Adelaide had been doing ever since she returned. Aliens didn’t exist in her framework of the world. However, why not? Ghosts were real. Illusions could be produced. She could time travel. Her father was immortal in another realm. Why couldn’t aliens be real? “Yes, I saw this, exactly as you see it in the picture,” she said, remembering the jolt that initially rocked her core when she saw the alien, or whatever it was, for the first time.

  “This is an Arcturian.” The scientist’s eyes showed his awe as he studied the picture of the greenish-s
kinned alien with almond-shaped eyes and three fingers.

  “Wait, you know the name off the top of your head? I didn’t realize aliens were your specialty. Actually, I didn’t even think aliens were real. Kind of figured you’d need to research this,” Adelaide said.

  “Well, I have to admit that my knowledge on these beings is limited, but I assure you that aliens exist. Actually, these guys,” he said, tapping the paper, “have a pretty strong following among some groups because they are considered powerful. However, most of what is heard is rumors. A sighting is rare.”

  Adelaide realized in that moment that her world, which she didn’t think could get any stranger, imploded with peculiarity. Why was this such a strange concept for her to digest? She was on a case to rescue werewolves, but all of a sudden she couldn’t assimilate aliens into her world?

  “It’s kind of beautiful,” Roya said, leaning over to take a look at the drawing.

  “Yeah, they were keeping it in a case full of liquid,” Adelaide said. “We might be able to dream travel to study it but first, what can you tell me about this Arcturian?”

  “Well, offhand,” Aiden said, drumming his finger to his lips, “they are incredibly intelligent beings and have telepathy and telekinesis. They don’t get sick and live up to four hundred years. Oh, and something interesting is their food is a liquid substance that restores their body.”

  “That’s what you can offer offhand about a random alien species?” Adelaide looked at Roya. “Your husband is so bloody dumb.”

  “Tell me about it,” Roya said dryly.

  “So now the question is, what does Mika plan to do with this Arcturian?” Adelaide said, taking the paper back from Aiden.

  “Study it, no doubt, but the possibilities are endless. No one has had one of these in quite a while, that I’m aware of. Like I said, a sighting is considered a rare phenomenon. Having the actual body of an Arcturian, well, I’ve only heard of one such case in the past,” Aiden said.

  Adelaide’s head clouded with anxiety. Maybe her father’s book would provide answers. It had to… “Okay, well as usual you provide more questions than answers, you monkey-scientist,” she said, turning for the exit. She halted and turned around, her stare tentative. “You helped Ren to do whatever he did to not-really-kill himself, right?”

  Aiden gave Adelaide a cautious look. “Guilty as charged,” he finally said.

  “Well, he’s in the dreamscape, right?” she asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t know where he ended up. He didn’t know where that would be either. My best guess is that he’s in a parallel universe based on the research I’ve done,” he said. Behind him Roya laid her head in her palms, like taking an impromptu nap.

  “Is it possible for him to interact with this world from there?” Adelaide asked, thinking of the broken beakers and the wonky faucet.

  “Adelaide, you know what your father would have said?” Aiden said, with a smirk.

  “Shut the fuck up and stop asking riddle-like questions?” she pretended to ask.

  “Yes, that. But he’d also say that anything was possible,” he said.

  Adelaide stared off, the possibilities finally cementing in her mind. Ren could have been warning her. Roya’s report had seen Adelaide in the room and getting trapped by Mika. In this report, she was also supposedly tortured before the pack arrived. However, something had driven her out of the room early. Could it have been Ren?

  “Hate to break up this boring conversation about a man who nearly split the Earth in half when he killed himself,” Roya said.

  Adelaide almost laughed but stopped herself. Ren’s death mission had caused many natural disasters because that’s what God does when someone breaks the laws of the universe. What a jerk.

  “No, you’re not sorry,” Adelaide said.

  “No, I’m not. But you might want to know that I just saw a vision of the future. It’s of tonight and includes the whereabouts of one of the members of the pack. He looked like Malcolm Edwards,” Roya said.

  “Finally, you’re being useful,” Adelaide said. “Give me all the details.”

  “Oh, yeah, finally. Like reporting your abduction wasn’t a big deal,” Roya said.

  “Totally wasn’t,” Adelaide said. “Details. Give ’em to me.”

  “It’s one of my men, of course I should go,” Zephyr said.

  Adelaide shook her head at him. “Think about it. I know you don’t really have many brain cells, but devote all three to this situation. Malcolm is apparently apprehended by a Neanderthal. Who are the best people we have to fight someone like that?”

  He thought for a moment. The answer was obvious. “Rio and Rox,” he finally said.

  “Yes, and just because you’re the alpha wolf, doesn’t mean you should go on every case. In some circumstances, you need to sit back, stay safe, and assign the right people to a project. That’s what a good leader does. They lead. Not go on the mission,” she said.

  Zephyr bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes going skinny as he did. He didn’t appreciate being reminded of something he’d learned long ago at Officer School. It chagrined him more than ever the way Adelaide belittled his experience, and yet she was right. He had every intention of going on the mission before she stopped him. That was because now things were personal whereas before, in the Special Forces, they were business. Being an alpha wolf was both similar and dissimilar to being a captain.

  “Okay, I’ll assign them to go after Malcolm,” he said, blowing out a breath.

  “I’m leaving the strategy in your hands,” she said, and then something in her gaze shifted. “And on another subject, I’m sorry about David. That had to have been hard to lose another member of the pack.”

  “It was,” Zephyr said, his jaw flinching. It was haunting him daily, but such was the weight of being the alpha wolf.

  “Go tell dumb and dumber that they have a mission. Oh, and you might want to tell Rox to stay focused and no hooking while in Las Vegas. It will be hard for her to resist,” Adelaide said.

  Zephyr released a small smile. “Yeah, I’ll warn her.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “A man might befriend a wolf, even break a wolf, but no man could truly tame a wolf.”

  - George R.R. Martin

  The smoke in the casino sought to wrap around Malcolm and suffocate him. He rested his forehead on his hand, wondering why he was seeing double of his cards. Then his forehead slipped off his palm and he barely caught it before it smacked into the felt table.

  A hand grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him up. His feet weren’t at all happy about the idea of being under him, but he managed to stand by leaning against the table.

  “Overserved again, mister,” a guard from the casino said in an angry whisper at his ear, so the other gamblers couldn’t hear. Still, a few looked over, curious about the drama.

  “Nah, I just forgot to sleep last night. I’m tuckered out,” Malcolm said, his words slurring.

  “Well, take a nap and don’t come back drunk. You’re out of here for the night.” The guard tugged Malcolm’s arm, nearly dragging him to the exit.

  Damn it! Again he was getting kicked out of a place. It just never ended, he thought, his head lolling to the side.

  At the door the guard who could use some manners pushed Malcolm into the back parking lot before slamming the door. Malcolm made it to the curb, deciding that looked like the perfect place to take that nap he’d mentioned.

  “There’s our boy,” Rox said, from the driver’s seat of the SUV.

  “And there’s the monster,” Rio said, watching as a caveman-looking thing stepped out of an unmarked van on the same side of the street as where Malcolm sat. “Damn it, why didn’t we meet him at the door?”

  “Because I wanted to see this Neanderthal. You know that if Zeppy was here, he’d make us do the responsible thing and avoid a fight. But it’s just the two of us and I say we go kick some caveman butt,” Rox said, opening her door and stepping out.

&
nbsp; “You know, I’m starting to like you more and more. You’ve got a spunk I can admire,” Rio said.

  Malcolm pulled his head up when he heard a car door slam on the opposite side of the street. A blonde in black stilettos and skinny jeans was approaching him, her gaze on something that wasn’t him. He went to go push up to a standing position and then realized that wasn’t available to him. I’ll just let her come to me, he thought.

  “Hey, honey. You sure are looking fine in that zebra-striped tank top. Why don’t you come over here so I can count your stripes,” he called out to her as a man the size of ox joined her on one side. “Or never mind,” Malcolm said, his eyes following where the pair had their gaze centered.

  “Holy fuck,” Malcolm said, scrambling again to stand and again realizing that wasn’t a good idea. On the sidewalk down from him stood a thing that made the ox man look like a mouse. The figure was more like a lawn mower than a man. His flat nose and large forehead made him appear almost like a caveman. And his arms looked too long for his body, like they were meant to drag on the ground.

  “Don’t worry about this, tiger. We’ve got you covered,” the woman said, trotting past him, her fists balled up at her side.

  “Ladies first,” Rox said to Rio, striding in front of him.

  “Be my guest, princess,” he said.

  She halted just a few feet from the Neanderthal, who looked confused. It peered around her and at Malcolm sitting on the curb, who was half watching, but looked close to falling asleep.

  “Him,” the beast said, pointing at Malcolm.

  “Nope. Not today, big guy,” Rio said, making a wall, standing next to Rox.

  The thing that was once a man grunted, his five-head wrinkled with frustration. “Him,” he repeated.

  “No, bad caveman,” Rox said. “He’s ours. But what are you going to do about it?” And she reached forward and pushed the monster in the chest. He didn’t rock back a centimeter, but instead roared, his mouth opening wide, showing a mouth of large teeth.