by Taylor Buck
It was biting him over and over.
He was pulled viciously underwater and he fought desperately against the relentless pain. His lungs burned and he started to feel light-headed. He felt his body become heavy, as if weights had been tied to his limbs and it soon became impossible to move. Bennett knew he needed oxygen but the alien object seemed to be pulling him further downward. He kicked his legs and managed to barely surface his nose and mouth only to inhale a crashing wave. He grasped around underwater for something to grab onto. He didn’t know what...anything. The lack of oxygen was affecting him. He started to see stars.
I’m drowning!
Bennett couldn’t believe what was happening to him. He tried to focus his thoughts to pull himself together and get back to the shore with the key.
The key…
Where was it? Throughout the attack he had forgotten to keep track of it. He looked down at his hands just as the pain came shooting back. He grabbed at the object on his face and channeled what strength he had left to pull it off.
One...two….
Everything went black.
All was still.
Distant waves crashing on the sand sounded through Bennett’s ears. Seagulls cawed and flew close by. Light slowly filled Bennett’s eyelids. He woke up to Kam’s face peering down at him. Three other heads hovered around, all peering down toward Bennett, each with worried and curious look.
“Mr. Bennett? Can you hear me Mr. Bennett?”
Bennett reached his hand toward his face and placed his fingers where the attack had been. He felt something flat and cold. It was an ice pack—the kind you keep in small coolers. He pushed it away and felt underneath. The object was gone. The only thing left was a fleshy wound that he ran his fingers over.
Bennett struggled to speak, “Kam….the key. Do you—”
Kam cut him off. “I’ve got the key, Mr. Bennett. You almost drowned. You had it balled up in your fist. I had to pry it out.”
Bennett felt relieved at the news. He lifted his head and looked around at the people surrounding him, recognizing the boy he had seen fishing earlier. The other people staring at him appeared to be on-lookers.
“I’m very sorry,” said the boy. “I had no idea how it had gotten stuck.”
Bennett looked down at the boy’s hands and saw the fishing pole and the lure dangling from the line. Crimson red coated the lure. Blood spotted the boys hands.
“We need to get you to a hospital, Mr. Bennett,” Kam said. He looked worried.
“Help me up,” Bennett whispered.
Kam helped Bennett to his feet.
Bennett felt exhausted. As if he had just swam a marathon. The realization as to what just happened began to sink in. Bennett wanted to leave. He wanted to get away from the tourists and he wanted to get the key in a safe place. He had a slight feeling of embarrassment as to what had just taken place and the fact that he had become somewhat of a spectacle on the beach.
“Kam, let’s get out of here.”
“You got it, boss,” he answered.
They walked up the path away from the beach and stopped at Bennett’s truck. “Mr. Bennett, I really think you need to go to the hospital,” Kam said still concerned.
Bennett evaluated his injury from the side-view mirror on his truck. The gash wasn’t as bad as he expected. In fact, it was fairly superficial. The hook must have just embedded itself into the epidermis. The wound had stopped bleeding and from what he could tell didn’t look to be too deep. He pressed on the area around the wound. The skin was firm.
“Kam, do you have a First-Aid kit handy?”
“I’ve got one here in my house.” He pointed to a little beach house to the right of them—suspended on stilts with a surfboard out front and a hammock between two trees.
“But Mr. Bennett, don’t you think you should go to the hospital?” Kam was still quite concerned.
“Thanks Kam. I’ll be fine. Just need to clean it up and keep it closed.”
They walked inside Kam’s beach house and Bennett took a seat on the couch next to an Xbox controller. Kam ducked into a doorway and returned with a box. “Here you go. I’ve never used it, so I’m not sure what’s in there.”
Bennett took the kit and opened it up. It was a standard First Aid kit. Band Aids, gauze, cleaning solution, tweezers, scissors, pads and such. He shuffled the items around until he found a butterfly bandage. “Here we go.” He pulled it out and set it on the table.
“One more request.” Bennett said.
“Sure.”
“Do you happen to have any Super Glue?”
Kam looked puzzled. “Actually, yeah. I have some in the kitchen. Why?”
Bennett smiled. “It’s the same stuff the Doc would give me if I went to the hospital. Just need a little glue to hold the cut together under the bandage.”
Kam looked surprised. First he was impressed with Mr. Bennett’s pain tolerance. Now he was impressed by his resourcefulness.
“Ok, you got it,” Kam said as he headed to the kitchen. A moment later he returned with a small tube of Super Glue.
“Thanks Kam. I’ll take care of it from here. Why don’t you start on the keychain and I’ll fill you in on what we’re looking for.
CHAPTER 25
KAMUELA’S HOUSE, RICHARDSON BEACH
15 OCTOBER, 4:00 P.M.
Bennett was laying down on the couch holding an ice pack to his face when Kam called for him from down the hall.
“Mr. Bennett! Come take a look at this.” He said it with noticeable excitement.
Bennett sat up and placed the ice pack on the coffee table. He headed back to Kam’s bedroom, which upon entering looked to be more of a command center than a bedroom. Three large screens were displayed in front of Kam’s desk. Cables, hard drives, laptops cluttered every square inch of the room. A large server station sat in the left corner with fans whirring all around it. Bennett tried to find a place to stand among the densely packed gadgetry.
“Check this out.” Kam pulled up a window and typed in a string of commands. He worked quickly with impenetrable focus. His tongue poked just slightly from his mouth and rested on his upper lip while he typed. A moment later, lines of code began stacking up on the screen. Bennett scanned over a few of them.
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_B/EXTERIOR/GATE_A/ENTRANCE
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_B/EXTERIOR/GATE_A/SIDE_DOOR
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_B/EXTERIOR/GATE_B/ACCESS_DOOR
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BULDING/DOOR_EAST_END
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING/DOOR_WEST_END
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING/DOOR_SOUTH_END
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING_MAIN/LOBBY
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING_MAIN/MAINTENANCE
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING_MAIN/SERVER
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING_MAIN/CONTROL
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING_LAB/EAST_DOOR
ROOT_DIR/SYSTEMS/ACCESS/SCTR_A/INTERIOR/BUILDING_LAB/SOUTH_DOOR
“Those are building access codes, right?” asked Bennett.
“Right. I can see them, but I can’t open them yet. They’re encrypted…but give me a little while.”
“Don’t bother with those,” Bennett said. “We’ve already got the key so I don’t need them. How about company files? Anything in there that identifies them? I’m just trying to find out any background info we can get.”
“Let me look,” Kam said. He typed quickly, opening and closing windows at a stunning pace. “Well, this is the only folder readily available—the Public folder. It will take a little more time to get in since it requires security clearance. It loo
ks like there are a few files in here though.” He pulled up a few more lines of code on the screen.
ROOT_DIR/PUBLIC/CERTA/INTRO/ARCHIVE
ROOT_DIR/PUBLIC/CERTA/INTRO/DOCUMENTATION
ROOT_DIR/PUBLIC/CERTA/INTRO/ORIENTATION
“Try this one. Orientation,” Bennett said pointing at the screen.
Kam clicked on it and a text file opened up. The CERTA logo displayed at the top of the page followed by a few lines of text.
Center for Excellence in Robotic Technological Advancements
A division of the Department of Defense
This information is classified and owned by the DOD. Unauthorized ownership or reproduction of the contained document(s) is illegal and subject to prosecution. Violation of this addendum is immediate grounds for indictment.
“Center for Excellence in Robotic Technological Advancements? These guys make, like, robots and stuff?” Kam said.
“I’m not sure. That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Bennett replied while browsing over the text. “Whatever they’re doing, they’re very secretive about it.”
Bennett read on. The next page was an introduction to the company.
Founded in 2003 by the Department of Defense, CERTA has contributed to major advancements in machine-automated technology. For further information on CERTA, contact the DARPA main office at 958.438.9194
“That’s it?” asked Bennett.
Kam typed in a few keystrokes. “It looks that way. Not much of an orientation,” he replied sarcastically.
“Are there any other files?” Bennett asked.
Kam opened up a few other documents. They all contained vague information about the company and each page directed the reader to contact the DARPA main office.
“And that’s everything in the Public folder?”
“Looks like it...”
Bennett’s phone rang. It was Kelly. She was probably checking in on him to make sure he was ok. She had been quite concerned since receiving Bennett’s call right after the beach fishing incident.
“Hey, Kell.”
“How’s your face?” she said sounding concerned.
“I appreciate the concern, but I told you I’m fine,” Bennett chuckled. “It’s barely a scratch.”
“I feel bad. This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t break your camera and steal the keychain. Really, I—“
“Kelly, It’s fine. No harm done, really.”
“Well, OK.” She paused. “Maybe we should call this whole thing off, Tom. We’re probably getting in over our heads and I don’t want anything else to happen.”
Bennett could tell the incident in the ocean had caused Kelly to second guess their investigation, and she was concerned with what had happened to him. Bennett, however, felt charged by the information he had pulled from the keychain and now wanted to press on. He wasn’t ready to put this away yet.
“Kell, I think we’re just scratching the surface of this thing. Kam was able to crack that keychain—we’re pulling up some pretty interesting stuff.”
“Oh yeah?” Kelly inquired.
“It turns out CERTA is an acronym for Center for Excellence in Robotic Technological Advancements. These guys make robots for the Department of Defense— which obviously explains the secrecy.”
“Robots? Really? Like What?” Kelly sounded intrigued.
“Well, I can only speculate. But I imagine that since CERTA is a part of the DOD, they are military robots.”
Kelly paused. She was processing everything that Bennett had just told her.
“You don’t think…”
“The cats?” Bennett answered.
“Yeah. You don’t think those are—robots, do you?”
“I guess it’s possible. There’s only one way to know for sure…”
“We go in!” said Kelly. Bennett could hear the enthusiasm in Kelly’s voice.
“Right. Tonight, we’ll go…after hours, when everyone has left. We’ll find out if it’s real, then we’ll put this all to rest. Hopefully they didn’t notice the keychain missing.”
“Yes, let’s hope,” Kelly said dourly.
“Ok, we’re finishing things up here, then I’ll head over.”
“Ok, see you soon,” said Kelly.
Bennett hung up.
Kam had been listening in on the conversation while he was working on the RFID. “You guys are going in there? You’re crazy.” Kam shook his head.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Bennett agreed. “I’ve never been one to turn down an adventure though.”
“Well, you can have it. That’s way too much excitement for me. I’ll have my own adventure too, but from my couch—with my Xbox controller in hand,” Kam said shaking his head.
Bennett laughed. “Well I really appreciate your help with this Kam. You’ve been very accommodating.” He gave him a pat on the back. “I’m going to head over to Dr. Adler’s to check in.”
“Ok, sure. I’ve copied all of the files over, so I don’t need the RFID anymore.”
Kam pulled the RFID keychain out of his reader and handed it to Bennett, who placed it in his pocket.
“I’ll keep working on this though. I’m sure I can break through some of these encryptions,” Kam said.
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, and Mr. Bennett? A word of advice…”
“What’s that?” he asked.
You should probably stay away from the water…”
Bennett laughed. “I’ll be taking my truck. Thanks Kam. I’m not going anywhere near the ocean for a while.”
CHAPTER 26
CERTA FACILITY, CONTROL ROOM
15 OCTOBER, 5:00 P.M.
Rick Danner stood in the control room searching through emergency contact information files for Kenneth Braden. He was rifling through names when he heard a sound, deep within the building. It was a heavy, pounding sound that reverberated through the empty halls and carried deep into the core of the building. Danner looked up at the monitors to check the cameras. His eyes were immediately drawn to monitor “F” which revealed a man looking directly into the camera. The man’s eyes were wide in a terrified expression as if he were being chased by a demon…
It was Charlie—Jim Covington.
He was screaming for his life.
PART 2
EVOLVE
CHAPTER 27
CERTA FACILITY, CONTROL ROOM
15 OCTOBER, 5:02 P.M.
Rick Danner bolted through the control room and threw aside an empty chair in his path. He exited the den and began sprinting down the long hallway toward the lab, the soles of his boots slamming against the hard floor underneath—echoing off the walls. He was halfway down the hallway when he made a hard stop.
His gun…
He had forgot the shotgun.
He thought quickly whether or not to go back and get it…
No time. It didn’t matter. He had his .45 pistol strapped to his waist. He pulled it out and readied it. Danner knew as long as his aim was accurate, the revolver would suffice.
It’ll do.
He continued down the hallway, sprinting toward the commotion. The pounding sound became louder and louder as he rounded the end of the hallway and reached the lab. He slid his keychain across the receiver and the door opened slowly. He grabbed the side of the door and pushed, trying to assist the motor and speed it up. The door opened. Danner scanned out across the lab floor.
There. On the far wall—the door.
He could see Jim’s shadow bouncing around through the window, backlit by the setting sun shining in. Danner sprinted across the lab floor, dodging machine devices and stations set up by the scientists. He finally reached the door and slammed his keychain against the receiver. The door hiss
ed opened revealing the outdoor atrium.
The atrium was an enclosure built against the east wall of the facility. It was a large transparent room, about forty feet wide and twenty feet tall, surrounded by ballistic glass. Originally built as a relaxation room for the employees, the atrium was a place for the scientists to come clear their mind and channel their creativity. One door opened into the building. The outside entrance was placed in the center—the door in which Jim Covington was currently beating like a punching bag.
He could see him—just a few yards away.
The inside of the atrium was fascinating. Danner could see the forest around him in stunningly clear view. The atrium glass was bulletproof, yet amazingly transparent—almost non-existent. The haunting and persistent pounding disrupted the tranquility of the environment.
Covington spotted Danner through the door.
“Riiiiick!” Covington yelled out to Danner. He sounded terrified.
Danner burst across the atrium and lunged toward the door with his keychain out.
His hand was inches from the receiver when Covington’s body was slammed violently into the atrium door. There was a loud, metallic CLANG, followed by a muffled groan. The entire atrium shook from the blow…it took a moment for the tremors to slowly dissipate.
Covington’s body fell limp and he slid lifelessly down the face of the door. Danner watched him, stunned. He noticed Covington’s hands appeared to have severe burns across both of them. The flesh of his palms was ragged and bulging. Both hands were charred black.