2036 The Proof: A Thrilling Science Fiction Novel

by Speiser, Zvi

  Then he heard someone shouting, “He’s alive. He’s got a pulse!”

  For a brief moment, he was disappointed. It had been so pleasant before, and now he had to deal with the loud, annoying voices. As he woke up, he felt a tremendous burst of pain on the right side of his head. The unbearable stab of pain produced an unprecedented cry of anguish from him before he submerged once more into the black hole, devoid of voices and concerns.

  Chapter 19

  Tom and the Structures

  Chicago, Tuesday, July 22, 2036

  Only when he set the autonomous driver to Relaxed Driving Mode on the quietest route leading back to the university could Tom focus once more on his meeting with Professor Goldon. What unknown elements were hiding behind the giant corporation? Which dark forces were exerting their influence over it, and what were their goals? Who was Professor Goldon? A sharp, brilliant, and pleasant man running a major company, as he was portrayed in the media and in accordance with the image he tried to project—or a criminal who would not stop at blackmail in order to attain his goals? And what, in fact, were his goals? Were they even legal? Was he going to work for an outlaw and help him attain objectives that would hurt numerous people? Who, or rather what, was Professor Goldon? What exactly would Tom be working on over there?

  Plenty of questions and no answers, other than one single, obvious reality. He could not refuse the job offer. He couldn’t put his family at risk. Perhaps in the course of his work for Goldon, he might understand more and be able to exert a positive influence.

  The professor was definitely interested in him; however, throughout the meeting, Tom hadn’t felt as if he was under any pressure to accept the offer. The atmosphere had been one of persuasion and enthusiasm rather than coercion. It was easy to understand how BL had managed to recruit the best scientists and researchers to join its ranks. The professor was blessed with the ability to make the person he was talking to feel so good that at the end of the meeting, that person would do anything to work with him. He hadn’t even asked Tom what his decision was. From the first moment, he had acted as if he was Tom’s employer, while Tom himself had made no effort to change this assumption. It was as if they both knew that Tom would be joining BL.

  No, he would not be dealing with the geometrical structures discovered in both their labs. Only Goldon dealt with them, perhaps more out of personal interest than any business objective. It was true that the company had made considerable investments in general research that was not aimed at any commercial objectives. But in this specific case, the professor was the only one researching the topic.

  Goldon had chosen not to elaborate much on the project he had designated for him. He did say that Tom could easily guess it if he looked into the company’s current products and tried to speculate regarding its future ones. He only hinted that in a world in which medicine could promise the generation of children currently under ten a lifespan of 120 years, additional aspects of such a long life must also be considered. Tom was definitely not surprised that there were many ways of enhancing quality of life that were no less important than extending it.

  For a moment, he thought that the best thing he could do was talk to Melissa. She might provide insight into some angles he had not considered. But then again, he would be working for BL regardless of the projects he would be assigned. Somewhere deep inside him, he did not want to accept the possibility that Professor Goldon was a criminal. Perhaps he, too, was being blackmailed by some dark, powerful element forcing him to behave in a corrupt manner. Everything he knew about Goldon, his demeanor and manner, did not fit in with what he expected from an arch-villain.

  He made a conscious decision to abandon this line of thought and move on to considering the nature of his future work for BL. He hoped his assigned field would be interesting rather than merely commercially promising. Maybe…maybe he would even be invited to join the study of the strange structures.

  At that moment, his thoughts refocused on the spatial geometrical structures. How had they been superseded by discovering Professor Goldon’s involvement in the implied threat made by Gaya? And more importantly, how could he be delving into banal topics such as his next place of employment and his salary when he had been exposed to such amazing discoveries, discoveries that might alter the face of humanity forever? He no longer thought the structures might be an experimental error, as he’d initially suspected when Lise had showed them to him; Goldon had showed him identical structures. What could they be?

  As part of his biology studies, he had learned quite a lot of chemistry. He had been very impressed by crystal structures, which through a microscope looked as if they had been designed and built by the most fastidious engineers and builders. They included giant crystals grown in space stations at zero gravity. Often, due to the slightest contamination in the crystallizing material, the normal process was disrupted, resulting in a collection of structures in various shapes and sizes that always made him think of a large, crowded city as seen from a great height. Perhaps Lise’s vial had been contaminated in some way by an unknown component that changed the protein’s three-dimensional structure and created the unusual formations?

  Once again, he recalled the structures he’d seen. They looked solid, rendering only the outlines of geometrical shapes. They looked more like rods or columns of various lengths whose edges adjoined to form precise structures. No, those hadn’t been crystals. Tom had already seen proteins that resembled straight or rounded rods, but they had never joined together to create such symmetrical, uniformly sized, three-dimensional structures. A double or single strand of DNA that had straightened for whatever reason could also fill the role of the rods he’d seen.

  The first test to be carried out, he thought, should be identifying the ingredients of these rods in order to discover whether they were biological molecules or crystallized minerals. Anyway, there was no longer any need to recreate the experiment, as he’d asked Lise to do. Goldon had proved that it was not an experimental error; it was real.

  Lise answered on the third ring. “What’s going on? Are you on your way back to the university?”

  Until that moment, Tom had not decided whether to return to the lab or go meet Melissa. However, the fact that his thoughts had drifted to his own private affairs while dealing with such an important discovery disturbed him, and he answered Lise’s question with no hesitation. “Yes, I’m on my way to the lab.”

  Lise’s sigh of relief was clearly audible through the assistant. She was definitely on pins and needles, and his abrupt departure to meet Professor Goldon had not contributed to her peace of mind. She sounded very tense, and it would take a considerable effort on his part to calm her down.

  For a moment, he almost succumbed to the urge to provide some guidance that would allow her to get some work done before his arrival, but he came to his senses immediately. This was not an appropriate conversation for the assistant.

  He was certain that in her agitated state, Lise hadn’t had any lunch, and therefore told her, “I’ll be on the road for at least another twenty minutes, and it’ll take a few more minutes to park and walk. I suggest you take your lunch break before I arrive, so we can sit down with no interruptions.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “I’ll grab something quick and be back immediately.”

  “No need to rush,” Tom said. “Take your time. I can’t get there any quicker, anyway. Traffic is pretty slow.”

  Chapter 20

  Will is Injured in an Accident

  Chicago, Tuesday, July 22, 2036

  On his way back to his office, Rick asked Lily, his efficient secretary, to set up protections against surveillance on Melissa’s and Dr. Lester’s assistants, using the usual technique that would also reveal to the police where the information was being relayed if the devices had indeed been bugged. She advised him that all the material Melissa had requested was already waiting for him. She always understood her
assignments with minimal explanations, and had earned a reputation as the most competent of the precinct’s administrative assistants, despite lacking the professional training that police officers received.

  The table she had compiled listed thirteen break-ins and two more accidents and criminal incidents involving science personnel in the United States within the past twelve months, alongside a list of the studies conducted in each of the labs and the fields of specialization for each of the scientists involved in an accident. He thought the list of research topics resembled a collection of words randomly selected from a dictionary in an unfamiliar language. After a few failed attempts to call Will in order to ask him to forward the list to Melissa, he decided to try later. Just then, Lily entered his office, her expression troubled.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Is the Will you met today a reporter for the Chicago Chronicle?”

  “He is,” he replied.

  She walked over to his desk, chose the summary of afternoon incidents on his terminal, and clicked on a headline featuring Will’s name. Rick read through it quickly. Will Thorne, a reporter for the Chicago Chronicle, had been badly injured in a traffic accident and evacuated, still unconscious, to Rush University Medical Center. The driver who had hit him claimed he had been driving at a moderate speed when the victim simply flew at his vehicle out of a cluster of pedestrians on the street, from a distance that did not allow him time to brake. He believed the victim had been engaged in a confrontation with another pedestrian, who had pushed him in the driver’s direction.

  Rick leaped from his seat, informing Lily that he was on his way to the hospital as he left the office. She ran after him as he rushed through the hall, where dozens of preoccupied investigators toiled in their cubicles.

  “Hold on a minute,” Lily called out after him. “The results of the blood samples from the university also arrived.” Her voice was unusually loud. “Just like you thought, the blood belonged to Oleg, the murdered security guard.”

  Rick turned toward her, saying, “I’d have been very surprised if it belonged to anyone else,” before heading quickly toward the parking lot.

  He preferred to drive himself rather than relaxing and letting the automatic driver take over. He felt so tense that relaxing wasn’t an option, anyway, and he was unable to generate any productive thoughts the entire way, although usually manual driving allowed him to focus on the most urgent topics on his agenda.

  Will definitely had quite a few enemies. Every scandal he had exposed increased their number to proportions that could definitely be considered threatening. However, up to this point, no lines had been crossed. Will did his work, and those harmed by his revelations hated and resented him. Some had even sued him and the paper in court, but they had never hurt him physically.

  Some extreme covert activity was currently taking place. It had begun gradually in the past few years, but had accelerated during this last one. He had to sit down with Melissa or some other expert on biological research in order to better understand what was going on both openly and behind the scenes.

  Rick briefly debated whether to assign security to watch over Will. Just how desperate was a person who would push another man to his death on a busy road in broad daylight, and what else might he be capable of? Or had it been merely a warning to Will, not to interfere in the topic the assailant was protecting? The department had recently hired several new cops who were not too busy. A surveillance and security task of this kind could provide useful practice for them, and most importantly, would ensure Will’s safety.

  The assistant’s ring interrupted his train of thought. “We’ve looked into Kyra,” Lily said. “We didn’t find anyone by that name who fits the limited description Mike gave us. As far as the system is concerned, she doesn’t even exist. Apparently, she gave him false information. Representatives of a forensics lab are on their way to Mike’s home to collect biological traces, which should allow us to produce DNA and locate her in the police database. I assume that if her fingerprints are in any database, we can locate her by this evening.”

  “That’s interesting, but also totally predictable. This case is expanding by the hour, to proportions I never even imagined when I left for the university last week.”

  “The material from the garbage can has been collected per your request and is on its way to you. The municipal officer who collected it reported that he found a torn envelope and a torn-up photo of an unidentified restaurant in which a man and a woman are sitting. We’re trying to identify it based on the few details in the photo. There was also a torn-up print of a news article about the Muslim organization Al Jamaa.”

  “Too many of these paths are intersecting. We have to sit down and sort out a sea of information,” Rick said. “Ask Brad to assign one of the new officers to protect Will. Ask him to keep it discreet. I don’t want to make too much of a fuss about it at this stage.”

  After hanging up, he instructed the assistant, “Call Dr. Melissa Colette.” It was a good thing the assistants had exchanged addresses, he thought. Within less than a minute, he heard the assistant’s sexy programmed voice. “Dr. Melissa Colette is on the line.”

  “Hi, how are you?” came Melissa’s calm, businesslike voice. It was obvious that she didn’t know what had happened to Will. He had to let her know, he decided. Perhaps they could also meet at the hospital.

  “I’m on my way to Rush Medical Center. Will’s been hospitalized there after being involved in an accident. We don’t know exactly what condition he’s in.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she responded.

  “See you there,” he replied.

  As he parked his car, he saw that Lily had sent him a reminder to show Melissa the list she had requested. That’s a great idea, he thought. Now Melissa might find the common denominator among the labs that had been broken into, and provide him with a list of companies working on these topics. This would enable him to focus the investigation.

  At first look, this seemed like significant progress. On the other hand, his acquaintance with Melissa had been very brief. It was true that she had a longer relationship with Will, but should he trust someone he didn’t know to such an extent? Should he provide her with such sensitive confidential information?

  His deliberation ended once he got to the hospital. The assistant guided him from the parking lot through the hospital corridors to the neuro-surgical ward where Will was being held.

  In the message window of the assistant, he saw that Lily had forwarded the photos. Despite his desire to reach Will quickly, he paused briefly to examine them. The first photo showed Melissa and Will sitting in a restaurant that resembled Dempsey’s Bar, where he had met them that day. There was no doubt that the photographer had been focusing on them. The image had been lightly processed, so that the two of them were clearly displayed at its center, while its edges were somewhat blurred.

  The second image displayed the newspaper article. Rick tried unsuccessfully to read the reporter’s name; he could only discern that it comprised two short words. He gradually expanded the image several times, zooming in until Will Thorne’s name filled half the screen. No doubt about it: the sender of the envelope was clearly implying that he knew exactly whom Melissa was meeting. It was a tangible threat, and assigning an officer to watch over Will now seemed like an especially good idea.

  Chapter 21

  Professor Benny Sheffy

  California, Tuesday, July 22, 2036

  At 12:15, precisely according to schedule, Lia entered the Berkeley Coffee Shop, which was overflowing with people. Exhaustion and stress had kept her from thinking about how she would identify Professor Sheffy. She assumed he would be the only one by himself at a table for two, but a quick glance did not reveal any solitary patrons. As she stood there, examining the people sitting around her, a handsome man in his sixties walked over to her, extended his hand, and int
roduced himself.

  “Benjamin Sheffy.” Her sigh of relief provided all the proof he needed that she was indeed the person he had been waiting for. “I managed to snag us a table,” he said, leading her into the teeming café.

  “How did you recognize me?” she asked after they sat down.

  “You were the only woman who entered the restaurant alone at exactly the time we’d decided on.” Privately, he also thought she looked absentminded, as expected from a professor who was so neck-deep in her research that she didn’t even glance in the mirror before leaving the house. The amount of rouge she used would have been enough for a full week for any woman.

  The small talk with Professor Sheffy flowed well and proved interesting. He had been working on Ia supernovas for many years, and was responsible for investigating some of the most distant ones.

  Lia said, “I’m entitled to two hours of STA observation a week with no need for committee approval. I also have a lot of leeway in determining when the observation hours will be scheduled. If we could decide today which observations and measurements we need, we could have results as early as tomorrow morning.”

  “Sounds excellent,” he replied. “Why don’t you join me for today’s lectures, which are scheduled until six? Then we could sit down for dinner and plan the observations.”

  “Great,” she replied.

  As they were on their way to the convention hall, she notified the department of an urgent observation request for that night. These Israelis are an efficient, businesslike bunch, she thought. She had just talked to Professor Tsur this morning, and he had already found her an expert on the topic that was most vital to her, who had contacted her immediately. Within hours, she would carry out a series of observations that would significantly advance her research into the anomaly in the two irregular stars she had discovered, after it had gotten stuck in recent weeks, confined to repeated examination of her latest data and calculations.