2036 The Proof: A Thrilling Science Fiction Novel

by Speiser, Zvi

  Melissa noticed him immediately and headed quickly in his direction. This was how it had always been. She had a special ability to recognize someone within a sea of faces within a split second. The expression in her green eyes and her sexy, provocative walk flooded him with sweet memories. Will straightened in his seat, his arms stretching out to embrace Melissa in a warm, loving hug. Her embrace in return seemed much more than a friendly gesture. Yes, she was still attached to him as well. Maybe, he found himself thinking, maybe they could get back together?

  Melissa pushed him away to get a better look at him. “You haven’t changed at all. Actually, you look even better. Something’s different. Wow, you shaved off your awful mustache. Way to go,” she said, sitting down. She reacted with pleasure to the coffee on the table, prepared the way she’d always liked it, and, as usual, quickly transitioned to the matter at hand.

  Will had summarized his research on a single page, which he laid out before her.

  Melissa needed no more than two minutes of browsing in order to look up and say, “This is only the tip of the iceberg. The action behind the scenes is at least as extensive as what takes place on the surface. It’s a very hot field. Every breakthrough entails the potential for enormous profits to the developer, but also catastrophic losses to the previous technology, whose infrastructure required an investment of immense sums. The corporations working on this are very large, and are spread out all over the areas of the globe subject to intense sun radiation. Behind closed doors, there’s often collaboration between competitors to delay new discoveries, sometimes for long periods of time. Companies pay significant sums to their competitors in order to delay distribution of new technologies. This covert system works in spite of the competition because, due to the rate of innovations, each of them will need favors from the others at some point.”

  “Are break-ins and murder also considered legitimate in this covert relationship?” he asked.

  “I’m not aware of any incidents of murder,” she replied. “Espionage, and everything it entails, is in very common use. I don’t know what kind of boundaries the corporations set out for those acting on their behalf. Murder might certainly take place if someone loses control. There are major agendas at work, with commensurate payments to the investigators who get results.”

  Will gazed at her face, his expression amused. Why not kill two birds with one stone? he thought. Why not ask Melissa to join him and Detective Rick to work as a team on solving the murder, and perhaps some of the other break-ins as well? He would finally get a chance to work with her, which would enable them to look into the option of resuming their relationship. Everyone would benefit from their collaboration. He and the detective would receive a reliable, professional, inside perspective on the world of genetic engineering, and get to know the players behind the scenes, the power clashes, the egos, and the machinations.

  Apparently, Melissa was still interested in him and might be pleased to be offered a collaboration that would allow them to work together. And the project might also help her to advance her career. Although her work had brought about breakthroughs in engineered crops, which had yielded handsome profits for the companies she worked for, she had not personally enjoyed the financial rewards of her research, and definitely needed the income.

  Will emerged from his thoughts when he noticed that the flow of Melissa’s speech had come to a stop. Apparently, she had noticed that he wasn’t listening to her. She didn’t need to say a thing; he knew her too well. The look she gave him conveyed a question mark. He smiled for several more seconds.

  Just as he saw her look of query about to transform into one of admonition, he said, “I’ve come up with an idea: How would you feel about collaborating with me as part of a small team including you, Rick, and me, which would delve into the biological topic in an attempt to understand who the major players are, and what’s motivating them?”

  “Who’s Rick?” she asked.

  “Rick Heller is the police detective responsible for investigating the murder at the University of Chicago. I’m convinced he’s found a promising lead. It might be the direction I’m also moving in, or it may be something completely different. Anyway, since he’s a police officer, he has access to considerable resources that might help in the investigation. Especially since, despite my experience, my research has been largely limited to what I could access online and through my connections. Rick’s investigative options are a lot more diverse, and working together, our chances of success increase significantly.”

  Will expected Melissa to allow her fertile mind to ruminate on the offer, to ask for time to consider it, to request further clarifications in the days to come, as was her custom. To his great surprise, she responded with a decisive, “I agree.”

  Her immediate consent could only mean one thing: she was already familiar with the topic or the story, in whole or in part. She had been ready to delve into the matter even before he had approached her but, apparently, didn’t know how to go about it. He had provided her with exactly what she wanted—the possibility of taking part in a fascinating inquiry in which she’d been interested even before their meeting, under appealing conditions. He wouldn’t ask her about this directly. If she had wanted to disclose any of it to him, she would have done it by now. She might still tell him about her involvement later. At this stage, he had achieved his goal, and all that was left now was to proceed as quickly as possible.

  Still gazing at her, he asked the assistant to contact Detective Rick, who replied immediately with an amicable, “Hi, Will. How are you?”

  “I’m sitting at Dempsey’s Bar with Melissa Colette, a doctor of genetic engineering as well as my ex-girlfriend, whom I’ve told you a lot about. Melissa’s fluent in current research in the field, and I’m sure she could offer a lot of help. I propose that the three of us meet soon.”

  “Does twenty minutes from now work for you two?” Rick asked.

  When Will consulted her, Melissa nodded her assent. “That works for us. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Will and Melissa were engrossed in a friendly, intimate conversation, and did not notice as the minutes ticked by, until they sensed someone standing at Will’s side. It was a young boy whom they had failed to notice until that moment.

  “I was asked to give this to the lady,” he said, extending a large manila envelope in front of Will’s face. As Will reached out tentatively for the envelope, intending to pass it to Melissa, she leaped from her chair and snatched it out of the boy’s hand.

  “Thanks, that’s okay,” she said, sitting down again as she clutched the envelope.

  The strange event, which lasted only a few seconds, strengthened his impression that Melissa had covert dealings behind the scenes concerning the topics she wouldn’t discuss openly. The incident certainly necessitated an explanation from her. He decided to use the efficient method of applying pressure that he had practiced many times before: stare at the person sitting across from you and don’t say a thing. Melissa undoubtedly realized that her jittery response required an explanation. She looked down at the envelope, not bothering to open it. Her behavior clearly indicated that the delivery of the envelope had not surprised her, and that she might know its contents, as well.

  Apparently, Will’s piercing gaze had caused her to open her mouth to say something. But then her mouth continued to open, her eyes reflecting an expression of fright. Will’s first thought was that Melissa was in immediate danger, and that he should leap in her direction and remove her from the line of fire of a gun aimed at her. However, he came to his senses immediately. No one would shoot a gun in such a crowded location in the middle of the day. No, such extreme behavior was not required. He spun quickly in the direction Melissa was facing. The restaurant looked utterly routine and mundane—people eating and drinking, robotic waiters scurrying between the tables, and not a single human waiter in sight. When his wandering gaze met the eyes of a tall,
dark-skinned man wearing a suit who was standing at the hostess station, the man turned on his heels and left the restaurant.

  Will immediately turned to Melissa, only to see her looking away from the restaurant door. His questions multiplied instantly.

  Melissa opened her mouth again. “Well—.” when Detective Rick approached the table and introduced himself to her.

  After ordering an extra-strong coffee, Rick consulted the assistant screen in front of him and addressed Melissa. “Dr. Melissa Colette. A PhD from Northwestern University in Evanston. Four years on the genetic engineering faculty, in Professor Harel’s department, until the professor decided to go back to Israel and his position became available. Surprising quite a few people, refused to accept the position of department head offered to her, and preferred to retire, although she was associated more than anyone else with the department’s current research goals and its rapid development. Worked for the Monsanto company for five years, focusing on genetically engineering grains, and from then to the present time, an independent consultant. Pretty impressive.

  “Dr. Colette, are you aware of what’s going on in research labs in the areas in which Dr. Thomas Lester is working?” He quickly brought up the matter at hand.

  “I advise several labs on various biological topics, but I’m not an expert on longevity enhancement. I know Dr. Lester well, I’m aware of his work, and I know some of the players in the field. The immense scale of the potential market leads to massive investments in the research. There’s constant, impressive progress in regard to small mammals. All of us experience these small enhancements in our daily lives; life capacity has surpassed one hundred years on average for people in a modern environment. However, it doesn’t feel like a breakthrough.

  “My area of expertise is genetically engineering crops and manufacturing food industrially, a field that has seen significant ongoing progress for many years now. My colleagues and I believe there’s still room for significant progress, which justifies an investment of resources. The bulk of the research focuses on increasing nutritional value in crops per area unit, and in developing industrially manufactured substitutes for various crops and meat types.”

  The concentration with which the two men listened to her indicated that they understood the gist of her presentation thus far.

  “I assume you’re mostly interested in knowing how the potential of Dr. Lester’s research rates in comparison with other research being conducted, and assuming he’s made more progress, which of his competitors might potentially be behind the break-in and the murder. Will also showed me a list of several labs that were broken into in the last year with nothing being stolen and with no leads as to the identity of the intruders.”

  Surprised, Rick glanced briefly at Will, and then flashed him a quick smile of satisfaction. This was all Will required. He realized he had indeed intuited Rick’s main direction in the investigation. Turning back to Melissa, Rick quietly instructed, “Go on, please.”

  “The wave of break-ins into biology labs has been going on for about two years now. The break-ins are generally clean—nothing is taken, no equipment is vandalized, doors are opened using the appropriate keys. Everything points to collaboration with insiders. The break-ins aren’t always detected. Sometimes it appears as if someone just forgot to lock the door to the lab. The labs targeted deal with a variety of advanced biological topics.

  “If you look online, you can find articles on work carried out in university labs on behalf of—and using funding from—commercial elements, in a variety of areas. In general, investment in the various fields of biology is currently significantly more extensive than investment in computation topics, which once far outpaced other topics. The focus, naturally, is on expanding longevity, improving health, enhancing cognitive ability, improving and increasing global food manufacturing capabilities, and of course, developing more efficient synthetic fuel. The interesting thing is that most of these articles aren’t written by well-known scientists, but by complete unknowns.

  “I’ve made several attempts to contact the writers, to no avail. I found myself talking to young, inexperienced researchers. I believe there’s a well-connected, powerful element behind the scenes that is following developments in certain areas and is interested in focusing public and scientific opinion on research aimed at longevity enhancement. Not that they have to try that hard. The public yearns for every glimmer of hope regarding progress on this front. Everyone wants to live for many years, in good health. To me, it looks like intentional misdirection, at least to some extent. It’s still unclear to me what these articles are trying to steer the scientific establishment and the public away from, but I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on.”

  “We’ll have to compile a detailed list of all the studies taking place in the labs that were broken into…or seemingly broken into,” Will said, turning to Rick. “Only you guys in the police have access to that kind of information.”

  “Once we have the list, we’ll try to find the common denominator and focus on who might be interested in it,” Melissa summed up the topic.

  “I’m on it,” was Rick’s only reaction. As he rose from his seat, he instructed his assistant to pay his share of the bill. He shook Melissa’s hand, saying, “I enjoyed meeting you. I hope we’ll have a fruitful collaboration,” then left the restaurant.

  “Truly a fascinating conversationalist,” Melissa whispered, as if she were afraid he would hear her.

  Will replied, “He’s a good guy, but he’s a cop. He thinks like a cop and he can get a lot done. If you handle him correctly, you could go far with him.” He had no doubt that Melissa was indeed involved, and was more intimately acquainted with what was going on than she had let on.

  The frightened look she had directed at the dark-skinned man made him think she was afraid of getting hurt. The murder of the security guard had already made it clear that their opponents, whoever they were, had no inhibitions when it came to attaining their goals. To some extent, he had begun to fear for his own life. Of course, he had no intention of backing off. On the contrary, the scent of danger only raised his adrenaline level. This was precisely the sensation to which he’d grown addicted, and which was occasionally provided by his work.

  He would have preferred to stay and talk to Melissa about more personal matters, but meeting Rick and bringing up the murder of Oleg had sullied the ambiance. The silence that took over once Rick had left only added to the oppressive atmosphere. And, in a depressing conclusion to the meeting, Melissa sat up in her chair, mumbling that she had to run as she slipped the envelope, still sealed, into her purse.

  Will didn’t even try to change her mind. Briefly, he considered sticking around and planning his next moves, but then changed his mind abruptly. A quick glance revealed that Melissa had turned right after she’d exited the restaurant. He confirmed the bill and hurried out, just in time to see her crossing the street and opening the manila envelope. She extracted several large sheets of paper, perused each of them briefly, then tore them up, along with the envelope, and tossed them into a trash can. Pausing, she looked around as if searching for something, then quickly turned to a shady sitting nook, isolated from the bustle of the street.

  Will stopped abruptly, almost causing the people rushing down the street to bump into him. He leaned against a streetlight in a position that provided a good vantage point. Melissa sat down, burying her face in her hands. She seemed very tense. Something was going on with her. He wondered what she had gotten herself involved in.

  Immediately, he turned around and continued up the street, submerged within the teeming sea of people.

  No doubt about it. Melissa’s involvement in the matter far exceeded the objective description with which she had provided them. He briefly considered sharing his apprehensions with Rick and asking for his help in having her followed. But if she ever discovered he had done so, this would ruin any chance of her retur
ning to him.

  On the other hand, the frightened look in her eyes at the restaurant indicated that she might be in danger, in which case his actions might save her. He was also perturbed by the fact that she had been in no hurry to open the envelope the young man had brought her. Apparently, she had been wary of doing so in his presence. She probably knew or suspected what it contained. Her nod as she examined the pages she extracted from the envelope also seemed like a confirmation of something she had known. Yes, Melissa was definitely in danger. It didn’t matter what she would think of him—he couldn’t ignore her signals of distress and just let her be. He had to act in order to save her. She might not be in immediate mortal danger, but there was no doubt she was in significant trouble.

  As he walked down the pedestrian-laden boulevard, he called Rick, explaining why he had chosen to follow Melissa immediately as she left the restaurant, and giving him the location of the trash can as well as the bench on which she was sitting. He was certain of Rick’s ability to locate the pages and the envelope.

  While continuing on his way, he felt himself being gently carried along by the pedestrians around him to the edge of the sidewalk, so that he found himself standing at the edge of the road opposite the traffic light, although he hadn’t decided in which direction he was going, and wasn’t certain that this was where he wanted to get across the intersection.

  Once he grew aware of the circumstances, he started to turn around, but then felt a powerful shove propelling him into the road, directly in front of an oncoming garbage truck. The last thing he saw was the dark face of the man from the restaurant who had frightened Melissa so much, standing where he himself had just been standing. He then submerged into a deep, dark hole.

  ***

  Out of the warm, soft darkness engulfing him, he managed to hear cars honking and distant human voices that seemed to be rapidly approaching. Subconsciously, he tried to suppress and ignore the voices and return to the sensation of a warm, protective womb.