Becoming (Core Series Book 1)

by Ronnie Barnard

  He saw her as she was when the system shut down, with a smile on her perfect face and life in her eyes. A smile spread over his face as blissful sleep fell over him.

  The fantasy of his boyhood returned, and followed him to his dreams.

  Job offer

  Kookaburras made a racket in the trees outside the house as they settled down for the night, and the heat of the day finally dropped into an early-evening thunderstorm. Thunder rumbled lowly, promising relief from the Queensland heat.

  The man was still drowsy from fantasy-filled dreams, dreams of the make-believe girl who was his only friend in his youth. He dragged himself out of bed and gravity took hold of his stiff body. His eyes creaked open peering out the window at the dim light outside.

  The telephone rang. “Who would call at this time of morning?” he mumbled and picked up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Mister Bancroft?” asked by an enthusiastic female voice.

  “Yes, this is he.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  “I am Susan Mathews from a company called Tech-ADS…”

  “uhg… I’m not interested in buying anything” he interrupted her sounding annoyed.

  “Mister Bancroft, I can assure you I don’t sell anything.” Sure! That’s what they all say he thought, sitting up in bed. “We are involved in software development for the military. Do you have a few moments to discuss your current situation?”

  “Huh…! Military?” he struggled to get his thoughts in order.

  “Yes, I work for a company that is involved with the military” she said, a tinge on annoyance in her voice.

  Almost choking “I’m sorry… Does this have to do with the model I downloaded...? It was free…!” he stumbled for words.

  “No Mister Bancroft, we have a job opportunity to discuss” she said giggling at his response. What a typical IT geek, always confused she thought. “We have been trying to get hold of you for a couple of days now,” she said. He blinked, dimly remembering the sound of the phone ringing during the past week. “I am glad that I finally have been able to reach you.”

  “I am sorry, I have been caught up in personal work,” he said meekly.

  “Can you come into our office?” she asked. “We would like to discuss with you an opportunity.... We have been looking for someone with your… expertise.”

  His scam radar automatically kicked into gear as suspicion crawled up his spine. “Maybe… what do you mean you have been looking for me…?” His voice serious again while lifting an eyebrow.

  “I can sense you feel suspicious, but this is a legitimate job offer. Come in and we can discuss it face to face” she said in earnest.

  His suspicions eased and he felt himself relax a bit, “That sounds reasonable, where is your office? I can come in later this morning if you like.”

  “Are you available now?”

  “Now…? This early?” He heard her giggle echoing down the line.

  “It is not early anymore. I am up most evenings. I prefer to work at night—don’t you?”

  He stood up from the bed, and stumble down the hall to the kitchen as realisation dawn on him that he slept most of the day. “You have me in an awkward situation… I will certainly come in, where is your office?” he pulled his act together feeling more awake.

  “My office is at the military base opposite Forest Lake. It’s only just around the corner from you.”

  “Sure, let me, uh...I’ll head over soon. What do I do at the gate?”

  “Just tell the guards that you are coming to see me. It is more likely that they will be expecting you and will bring you in,” she said.

  Feeling awkward, trying to get the kettle on with one hand “Uhm… uh… I’ve missed your name”

  “Susan Mathews”

  “Great Misses Mathews, see you in twenty or so.”

  “Thank you, Mister Bancroft. You have no idea how grateful I am for your indulgence.”

  “No problem.” Since he lost his job a couple of weeks ago, Jason had been desperate for any type of position.

  “See you soon, then. Goodbye Mister Bancroft.” The line went dead.

  Is it my imagination? he wondered. Or is it just time that I get my due?

  He continued to make coffee while replaying the conversation in his head. Taking a swig from the mug, he walked back to the bedroom to take a shower and get ready for the interview. After the shower he quickly pulled on one of his best trousers and a shirt, cleaned his boots, and gulped down the rest of the coffee in a few large swallows. He nearly coughed the drink up again, but stifled the urge, and plugged up with a breakfast bar before generously applying deodorant and brushing his teeth. The man grinned madly. He felt the weight of the last few weeks falling from his shoulders.

  He locked the front door and let himself into the Getz in the driveway. Finding the entrance to the military base on his GPS, he headed off at a moderate speed.

  The brewing storm began to dump large quantities of water. It flowed over his dash like a sheet. Lightning and thunder followed in quick succession. Rain of this magnitude was always welcome—it cleaned the environment of smoke and washed the dust off trees and plants. The cool breeze blew in through the vents of the car; the smell of wet tar and rain stirred his excitement. He couldn’t stop thinking of the model and the events of last night. And now this interview: he wondered what the position is, and why they think he would be a perfect fit for it. He hoped that they won’t make him enlist, as physical fitness and authority are two things he is not comfortable with. He wondered where he would draw the line.

  Turning left on Stapleton drive, he headed across the Logan highway. A small ray of sunlight broke through the storm clouds; the ray illuminated the car and the road before him. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He was struck by the feeling that higher powers were watching him, something like God.... He turned right onto Johnson road, and accelerated towards the gate to the military base, which was just two kilometres farther.

  “Turn left in two hundred meters, and destination on your left,” the female voice of his GPS announced as he slowed down and turned into the gates. A small gatehouse was attached to the red and white-striped boom that barred his way. To the right was a large parking lot and a couple of smaller buildings—storage and tool sheds, it seemed. A single-story building graced the left of the parking lot, a pathway of cement lead to a big sliding-glass door made of frosted glass.

  As he approached the boom gate, a guard wearing military-green camouflage fatigues approached the driver-side window.

  Jason rolled the window down.

  “Good evening, Mister Bancroft. We have been expecting you.” The guard bent so that his face was level with the window. “If you could please park in the lot on the left, I will escort you through to the main building.”

  “Wow! Okay,” Jason said. He drove past the lifted boom and parked in the first available parking space. Despite the time, there were many cars in the parking lot. He switched off the ignition and looked at himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. In the rear-view mirror, he saw the guard approaching from the gate. The guard was a block of a man, broad shoulders; his arms looked like logs coming out of his military camouflage uniform. He felt himself shiver with the thought of going against someone looking like the hulk, feeling puny in his presence.

  He opened the door and stood. “Lots of people working this time of night,” he commented.

  “Yes, we are open twenty-four seven.” He smiled broadly, flashing a set of bright white teeth.

  “I have been living in Park Wood for more than ten years, and never knew about this. I always thought it was just another training ground.”

  The guard seemed to smirk. “We like to keep a low profile. This way, please.”

  The man followed the guard towards the big building with the frosted glass door. To the left of the cement walkway was a rounded wall, two meters high. Well-buffed copper letters spelled
out the name of the base.

  To the right were low-growing shrubs cut to military precision and flowers just coming into bloom. Beyond, a short and even grass lawn pressed to the trees. The cool, evening air was filled with new scents: the rubber and tar of military activity, the rain and other smells not so familiar.

  The door opened automatically when they approached, revealing an elegant entrance with a reception desk of light pine and soft black and white chairs. A large sign on the wall behind the reception desk read: Tech-ADS. Pictures of robotics and military vehicles hung strategically from the ceiling, in perfect balance. Frosted glass doors framed the reception. Not a breath stirred in the room.

  There was no one behind the desk, but a fine white mist filled the space behind the desk as they approached. A female shimmered into being and looked at them expectantly.

  “Escorting Mister Bancroft to Professor Mathews,” the guard announced. Professor Mathews? He thought in surprise.

  “She is expecting him. Please escort him through to the conference room.” The sound emanated from the woman’s general direction, but Jason did not believe for a minute that the holograph was truly speaking.

  The door to the left quickly and silently slid open on invisible rollers.

  “This way” The guard motioned for Jason to follow.

  Jason nodded. “This is amazing technology,” he said. “Holographic implementation by laser interaction with Xenon molecules...how do you keep the Xenon contained without any physical barriers?”

  “I don’t know, sir, I am not part of the scientific team. The professor might be more helpful,” the guard said, looking sideways at his charge. Jason assessed the guard in turn. The man was clearly in top physical condition, as was the holographic image Jason saw in the reception. He shuddered, thinking about the hard physical labour involved in getting the body to such good condition and the effort required to maintain such condition.

  The corridor was lined with soft carpet; the walls were a pale shade of cream. Portraits hung, perfectly aligned and evenly spaced. The air smelled of pine cleaner and disinfectant, the same that Jason used to clean his home. Every now and again, he noticed a number at door height appear as they approached sections of the corridor, and disappear as they passed by, but he could not see a door frame or even a break in the wall.

  When they turned the corner, the guard halted in front of a label that clearly displayed the word “Enterprise” in dark green letters. The letters were a holograph, hovering a couple of millimetres in front of the wall.

  A soft, high-pitched sound, like a knife being dragged along metal, emanated from the wall, and a slit the size of a razor blade very quickly appeared down the middle of the wall. The wall seemed to melt away from the slit like foam being forced through a tube. It folded away to form an opening. Within was a large conference room, grand enough to fit a hundred people.

  “Wow!” Jason exclaimed.

  The guard smiled knowingly and held his arm out, gesturing for Jason to enter.

  “The professor will be with your shortly, sir. You have a wonderful evening.”

  “This place gets better and better,” Jason said, forcing his mouth closed as he walked through the door. The moment he entered, the whole room seemed to light up before him. But he could see no visible light sources—everything just became visible, as if the sun had risen.

  He looked around at the room. The centre boasted a large boardroom table made from dark mahogany wood. Chairs lined the outside of the table and electronic equipment, white boards and other computer monitors and projectors were just visible around the walls. Nothing cast a shadow. The light seemed to come from everywhere.

  Jason slowly walked around the room, touching the walls and the table, looking at everything closely. Each object seemed to provide its own light—not enough to cast a shadow on anything else, but just enough to illuminate itself. How was this possible?

  Again, the hairs on his neck stood on end. He remembered last night, and the moment when the model looked at him and smiled. Goosebumps ran down his back and arms, sending shivers of fear through him. What had he got himself into? Holographic projections, doors that appear in walls and now this.... He pinched himself to make sure that he was not still dreaming. This must be a dream, this technology doesn’t exist, or else he would have known about it. He made it his business to know.

  As he pondered these questions, the white boards disappeared and, in their place, the whole wall transformed into a serene, lake-scene. The table also disappeared, and in its place appeared a couple of black sofas and a coffee stand. A cool breeze blew by him gently; Jason was now standing on what appeared to be a lawn. He looked down to see his feet plunging through the illusion. For the first time, he breathed a sigh of relief. This was all just an illusion—none of it was real. He walked towards the lake scene and smacked flat into the wall.

  “Ouch! Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, grabbing his nose and folding in pain.

  After the throbbing subsided somewhat, he straightened up and touched his nose lightly, sniffing gently and wiping the tears that formed involuntary and ran down his cheeks. “This is dangerous,” he said to himself.

  He reached out to feel the wall with his hand. The scene came from a rear projection system. “Very clever....”

  He felt his way around the room, inspecting each joint. Who ever built the room spent a lot of money to make it as perfect as possible. He walked over to the sofas, expecting them to be works of fiction as well, but found them to be real and soft. He sat, sinking into the plush cushion. Looking around him and again gingerly touching his nose, Jason noticed that a woman was watching him from a door that appeared in the wall close to where he now sits, opposite to the entrance door. He jumped up and stood, automatically gripping his hands behind his back.

  “Impressive, is it not?” she said, walking over to join him. He waited awkwardly for her, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. Why, he didn’t know. Maybe she saw him walking into the wall? That would be embarrassing.

  “Yes, it is very impressive,” he managed. “Your company must have spent a lot of money building this room.”

  “We did spend a lot, but it is all worth it. Is your nose okay?” She seemed honestly concerned—her brown eyes peered at him curiously. She looked no older than forty and was slender-built, with wavy, shoulder-length brown hair neatly cut in a bob style. Her eyes seemed inquisitive—they sparkled with knowledge.

  “Yes, thank you. How many people do that on a daily basis?” he said embarrassed, rubbing his nose with chagrin, looking down at the floor and around the room, trying to look anywhere else but her.

  “Oh! No one does anymore. We don’t get too many newcomers, and most of the time the room is in meeting format, and the wall is where it should be. The room adjusts to the mood of the people inside.” She sat down on the sofa, directing him to sit as well, instinctively her right hand started playing with a strand of hair, while she waited for him to sit. He perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to look professional.

  “This is really a place of intrigue.” He looked around and shook his head. “What can a newcomer say to this?”

  “Mister Bancroft....”

  “Please, call me Jason. Mister Bancroft sounds so formal, unless you prefer it....” He petered off, feeling ashamed for interrupting her mid-sentence.

  “Jason,” she smiled, looking him square in the eyes. “I am Susan Matthews, thanks for coming in.”

  He squirmed a bit in his seat.

  “We have been following your career with great interest in the last couple of years. Ever since we received an anonymous tip about your research.” Her striking blue eyes sought his for confirmation as she kept playing with her hair, but he had nothing for her but questions. He had to look away from her mesmerizing eyes and attractive features, it reminds him of the model from last night. Why is it that the model has such a profound effect on him? Jason focus, it’s an interview! he reprimanded himself.

 
“You have been following me? How? Why?” he burst out. A creepy feeling crawled up his neck, giving him goose bumps all over again.

  “Don’t be alarmed, we do not spy—not on you nor on anyone else.” She laughed, while Jason shifted his weight to his elbows. “We want you to join our team. We think that your work and our work will form a great synergy.”

  “What do you know about me?” Jason demanded. Inadvertently, he thought back to the model—her smile....

  “We know that you are working on holographic research and have seen some preliminary designs you posted on the internet to a possible investor a couple of years back. We have been watching ever since for a sign of any breakthrough. And now we have decided to offer you a position to help you finish your work.” She said looking him square in the eyes with a smile on her face, crossing her legs and holding her hands on her lap.

  “You had me worried for a moment there, you know...Big Brother, conspiracy....” he laughed nervously. “Things just fell into place in the last week or so, and last night...” he left the sentence dangling. “And now this interview.” A worried frown flitted across his brow.

  “Trust me when I say that we mean you no harm and won’t ever intrude on your privacy,” she reassured him. “We strongly—no, I strongly believe in keeping everything above board. I can’t vouch for any other department, but certainly my department will never spy on you.”

  Jason shook his head. “I must say, this is all too weird. An early evening interview, you have been tracking me, all this technology...it’s surreal, to be honest. It feels like I am still in a dream.”

  “I can assure you, you are not dreaming” she remained relaxed putting her one hand on the arm rest, while the other remained on her lap. The smile disappeared from her mouth and her eyes became serious. “Now, as to why I asked you over.” She shifted in her seat slightly, pulling her spine upright. The scenic lake view changed back to an office environment: the walls again displayed the portraits, white boards and computer monitors that were present when he walked in a couple of minutes ago.