The Aegis Solution

by John David Krygelski

  The smile spread on the face of the thug and he shook his head hard, as though he were trying to dry his hair. "You don't get it, dude. In here the currency is you."

  As he heard this, the second piece of the Aegis puzzle fell into place for Elias. In the anarchy which would prevail within these walls, paper money would be essentially worthless. Yet every society, even the most chaotic, would need a medium of exchange. It would have to hold an intrinsic value. With a steady stream of people walking through the front door, the obvious choice would be slavery.

  Elias shrugged. "Okay. I understand. I'm all yours."

  The caricature of a smile left the wide youth's face. "I don't think so."

  His eyes darted down to the pistol on the floor, then back to Elias, before he said, "You gonna be too much trouble. Nobody gonna want you."

  The thug, speaking to the two standing behind, said, "Unless you want to take a bullet, you better move your asses."

  Elias heard the scuffling of feet behind him but did not dare to look over his shoulder, deciding to keep his eyes on the young man in front of him. When the sound from the rear stopped, the youth lifted his gun up and pointed it directly at Elias' forehead. Elias recognized it as a .357 magnum, and his mind calmly ran through the firing characteristics of the weapon, knowing that within moments his head would be vaporized. In an almost detached way, he observed the shooter's thumb pull back the hammer.

  With nothing to lose, Elias ducked under the revolver and plunged forward, hoping to overtake his executioner in time. The thug was quicker to respond than Elias hoped, and he felt the butt of the heavy pistol slam into the top of his head. Instantly, his legs crumbled beneath him and he fell to the concrete floor. Somehow he managed to retain a feeble grip on consciousness and, as he fell, rolled to the right.

  He now lay on his back, at the feet of the thug, who took a step forward. "See, I told you, you're too much trouble."

  The punk obviously knew enough about ballistics to understand that if he shot Elias in the head in this position, the .357 slug would ricochet off the concrete. He aimed at the part of Elias' body which would provide the most resistance to the bullet, the chest, and again steadied for the kill shot. Elias had deliberately fallen to place himself within arm's length of his 9mm, but his mind could not come up with a scenario where he could grab the weapon, aim, and discharge it before the thug could pull the trigger.

  Although there was more than adequate light, Elias only saw a dark blur suddenly sweep into his field of vision. The fast-moving phantom, or whatever it was, collided with the punk standing over Elias, causing the pistol to fly from his grip and clatter to the floor, followed immediately by the thug himself, who collapsed facedown.

  Even though he had no idea who or what attacked the new leader, Elias took advantage of the sudden distraction to grab his pistol and roll against the wall, bringing the barrel up to bear on the nearest of the other thugs. A split second before applying enough pressure on the trigger to discharge the 9mm, Elias relaxed his finger, seeing that there was no need to fire. The other gang members were running headlong down the side corridor, already almost fifty yards away.

  As he shifted his weight and got to his feet, Elias looked around for the source of intervention which had saved his life, but the area around him was empty except for the two motionless thugs at his feet. He tucked the 9mm back into his pocket and reached down to check for a neck pulse on them both and, although not expecting to find one on the first punk who took a .357 slug to the chest, was surprised to discover that the other gang member was also dead. It did not require the skills of a medical examiner to determine that his neck had been broken.

  With a final glance around, Elias picked up his suitcase and resumed walking toward the center hub of the complex.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Elias noticed that the graffiti gradually diminished as he proceeded, until it was all but gone from the walls. Apparently, he was leaving the territory of the gang who had accosted him earlier. Although the attack and dialogue with the gang member had answered one or two of his questions about Aegis, his mind was swirling with the new ones prompted by what he had seen, especially the mysterious dark blur which had passed directly into his view, disarming the thug, breaking his neck, and disappearing without a trace.

  As these thoughts entered his consciousness, he mentally chided himself for his florid descriptions, remembering how often, while he had been the occupant of Faulk's office, he would call agents on the use of terms like "mysterious" or "disappearing" in their field reports. And yet, he thought, how else could he depict the intruder or, he should say, rescuer?

  He had passed the center hub of the complex and was now walking down the opposite corridor, when he was not surprised to find that there was a blockade which had not been shown on the plans he had reviewed. Nearing it, he saw that it was constructed of salvaged concrete blocks. Obviously, since building materials were not a part of the regular supply deliveries to Aegis, the residents had improvised, demolishing a CMU wall somewhere in the complex and reusing the blocks. As he reached it, Elias noted that there was no door.

  Although he had seen the miniature camera mounted high on the side wall of the corridor, Elias decided that since the obvious intent was concealment, he would pretend to be unaware of its presence. There was no point in acting like anything other than a normal entrant to Aegis.

  Suddenly, a voice came from a hidden speaker above. "Are you alone?"

  Elias nodded and answered, "I am."

  Fifteen feet above, a panel in the ceiling slid aside and a rope dropped down, dangling a few feet from Elias. The male voice on the speaker instructed, "Tie your suitcase to the rope."

  Aware that in a situation such as the one created within these walls, commodities would have a much greater value than money or gold, Elias asked, "How do I know that you won't just take my stuff and leave me here?"

  "You don't," the voice replied flatly. "You can always stay on that side and take your chances."

  With a shrug, Elias set down the suitcase and looped the nylon braid through the handle, tying a simple square knot. Before he finished this process, a rope ladder was dropped for him to use. Obviously, whether he would relinquish his suitcase had been some sort of a test. He had passed.

  He scaled the rope ladder, following his suitcase up into the opening in the ceiling. At the top there were two men waiting. Both gripped his arms, helping him through. The moment his feet touched the plywood platform, the two strangers pulled up the ladder and slid the cover back over the opening. It fell onto the supporting lip with a solid thump.

  One of the two men extended his hand and introduced himself. "I'm Will Rogan." Elias shook his hand as he took measure of the man. He was somewhere in his mid-thirties, with a slender build and thick, curly hair.

  "And this is Ontewon Johnson."

  The other man could best be described as thick and muscular, his head shaved so closely that his black scalp shone in the dim light. The handshake Elias received from him was substantially more powerful, as he smiled and said, "Welcome to Aegis."

  The two turned, making it obvious that Elias was to follow them. Picking up his suitcase, he did, and found that at the end of the short platform, oriented just on the other side of the blockade, was not another opening with a rope ladder, but an actual set of stairs descending to the floor.

  

  The courier from Fort Detrick stood at attention at Faulk's desk, not showing the slightest hint of disapproval as the recipient of his delivery violated protocol by opening the pouch in his presence. The flash drive slid onto the desk blotter, and Faulk quickly snatched it up and inserted it into the USB port of his desktop computer. The embedded security program on the drive activated instantly and Faulk was prompted for his password, which he hastily typed. The security gateway instantly disappeared from the screen, replaced with a file list, which contained only one entry. Faulk double-clicked the file and a video clip ran. It was only twenty-eig
ht seconds long.

  After watching the video three times, Faulk signed for the delivery and handed the paperwork back to the courier. The man was not fully out of his office before Faulk had completed a phone call on his secure line.

  "He's in."

  

  "Zack, what the hell was that thing?" BQ shouted, the adrenaline coursing through his body and causing him to pace aimlessly.

  "I don't know," the tall young man answered, his hand still shaking from their panicked run back to their home zone, or from the terror he still felt. "It musta been what Slate told us about before. One minute Jay-T was standing there with that dude, and the next minute he was on the floor dead! I never saw what hit him."

  "Me neither. All I saw was a streak."

  Ignoring the chairs and sofas strewn around the room, BQ dropped to sit on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. He pulled up his knees and rested his arms on them, trying to calm his breathing and slow down his thundering heart.

  The young man called Zack dropped heavily onto one of the sofas, his head coming to rest on the upholstered arm while his feet remained on the floor. After a minute, he asked, "How are we gonna be able to keep doing business if that thing's out there?"

  "Doin' business! What you talkin' about? That's the least of our worries! If that thing wants to come in here and take us out, it can. What we gonna do to stop it?"

  

  Neither Elias nor the two men escorting him ever noticed the stranger crouched in the shadows above the ceiling line, in the jumbled and darkened mechanical space which surrounded the access platform. They never saw or felt the pair of eyes watching as Elias came up the rope ladder and went down the stairs on the other side of the barrier wall.

  The unseen watcher remained motionless for several minutes after the three men departed, before finally retreating into the deeper shadows away from the area.

  

  Throughout the brief walk down the moderately clean and well-maintained corridor, Elias was mildly surprised at the utter normalcy of the environment on this side of the blockade. He still was not sure what he expected inside this anomalous institution, but to his eyes and ears, it appeared as if he were walking the hallways of some ordinary complex in the outside world, rather than penetrating deeper into Aegis. There were others who passed him as he was being escorted, and they smiled at him and nodded a greeting.

  Johnson and Rogan walked casually at his side, not conveying the sense that he was their prisoner, or even their charge, but simply that they were helping him find wherever he might be going.

  "I am curious about one thing," Elias addressed them both.

  Rogan chuckled. "Only one thing. I would have thought you'd have lots of questions."

  "I do, I guess, but that is a pretty serious blockade back there."

  Rogan nodded as they walked. "It has to be. There are gangs in Aegis who want to expand their territory."

  "I get that," Elias responded. "I ran into some of them on my way."

  Johnson faltered for a moment in his gait. "You did?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "And you're here to talk about it?"

  Elias decided to keep the dark, fast-moving apparition to himself and answered, "I guess I got lucky. I outran them and was able to hide until they gave up. Anyway, you have the solid barrier blocking the corridor. I'm assuming you have a camera hidden somewhere near the wall."

  "We do," Rogan replied.

  "A microphone and speaker system, a rope ladder, a platform above the ceiling – all pretty impressive."

  "Thanks."

  "But all I had to do to get in was tell you I was alone?"

  "Yep" was all Rogan said.

  "I don't get it."

  Rogan stopped walking, joined a moment later by Johnson. Elias followed suit and turned to face him directly. The man responded matter-of-factly, "The Manager can explain if you're curious."

  "The Manager?"

  Rogan just nodded.

  Elias shrugged. "Okay, let's go meet the Manager."

  They resumed the walk and within less than two minutes arrived at an open doorway leading into what looked like a medium-sized meeting room.

  Johnson gestured toward the table and seats. "Wait here, if you don't mind. The Manager will be right in."

  Elias decided that it was probably a waste of time to ask the two of them any more questions, so he thanked them both, parked his suitcase on the carpeted floor, and waited.

  He did not have time to look closely at his surroundings before a door opened at the opposite end of the room from where he had entered, and a woman walked in. It was difficult for Elias to judge her age. Her short hair was completely white, yet her face showed few age lines. She wore a turquoise, loosely fitting dress. He was not sure, but Elias thought some of the girls in his classes had called it a squaw dress in the more politically incorrect days when he was in elementary school. Instead of shoes, she had on leather sandals.

  "I'm Mildred Pierce," she announced, extending her hand in greeting as she crossed the room to Elias.

  "Elias Charon."

  They shook hands. Elias noted the firm yet brief handshake.

  "Welcome to Walden."

  "Walden?"

  Pierce flashed an insincere smile. "That's what we've named our little corner of Aegis."

  "Someone's a Thoreau fan."

  "That's right," Pierce answered, the phony smile returning. "I think there was talk of the name long before it became an ‘official group.' I'm not totally sure who thought of it, but I'm sure it was a ‘fan.' It is a nice fit. Please have a seat." She motioned toward the meeting table and chairs, and Elias sat in the closest one while Pierce chose one which left an empty seat between them.

  "Would you like some herbal tea, or perhaps some wine? We have a fun Cabernet from Napa Valley."

  "That is very kind, but no thanks."

  Clasping her hands together on the table, Pierce asked, "What, if I may ask, did you do before coming to Aegis?"

  He and Faulk had discussed what Elias' cover would be, so he answered quickly, "I was a forensic accountant."

  He noticed her eyes narrow momentarily at his response, but the Manager's voice retained its lightness and conviviality as she said, "Forensic accountant, huh? For whom did you work? The government?"

  "At times. I was a freelancer, had my own PC with several clients; the Fed was one of them from time to time. I spent most of my time working for lawyers who were chasing assets on behalf of their clients."

  "Your own professional corporation," Pierce repeated, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling grid above her.

  "That's right. Why do you ask?"

  Pierce returned her gaze to Elias. "I don't know how much time you spent thinking about what it would be like here in Aegis."

  Elias shrugged and lied, "Not much."

  "Well, in many ways we are like a colony which is assembling itself after some apocalyptic event. Money has no value in here, at least at this time," Pierce said cryptically. "What does have value are certain specific talents, fields of knowledge, or training."

  "That makes sense."

  "Obviously, doctors and dentists are the most in demand. Certain tradesmen, especially electricians and plumbers. Chefs, definitely. Naturally, the arts – actors, writers, artists, singers, comedians, musicians, and the lot. You see, we don't get the Internet in Aegis. Nor do we receive any television channels. No radio. Nothing from the outside."

  "I knew there was no communication between Aegis and the outside world," Elias stated, "but I don't see why they don't allow those things to come in."

  Elias, of course, did know. The electronic jamming, which was necessary to prevent any signals from leaving Aegis, also stopped anything from entering. There was always the alternative of cable but, as of yet, there was no such thing as a one-way cable feed. It had been suggested that a communication signal could be embedded in a laser which would be directed at a receiver on Aegis, but the d
ebate as to what would be broadcast had brought this discussion to a deadlock.

  "In the infinite wisdom of those who created this place," Pierce pronounced with unconcealed sarcasm, "it was decided. That is all we know.

  "The others of value to us are teachers, physical trainers, and therapists."

  "Therapists? You mean, like counselors?"

  She nodded. "Yes, counselors. But also therapists who specialize in meditation, yoga, tai chi, aroma therapy."

  "And I assume you have a need for former police personnel, or those with military training."

  Elias once again saw the brief flash of distaste appear. "No. Not at all. Here in Walden there has been no need or desire for that group."

  He leaned forward and explained, "If you've established a community with no troublemakers within, I can understand that, but from the reception I almost received before I arrived here, it surely looked as though you could use some protection."

  "That is why we established the perimeter you came through," she answered with a hint of smugness in her voice.

  Allowing a rueful smile to show on his face, Elias remarked, "I didn't hear accountants anywhere on the list."

  Pierce's insincere smile was replaced with an equally insincere expression of sympathy. "I'm afraid not. Without any currency, or any other method of asset accumulation, there is actually no need for someone who can keep track of it."

  Pierce quickly continued, as if to placate her guest, "I'm certain that you noticed there are many other professions absent from the list."

  "Lawyers, for one?"

  "Exactly. Many of them have arrived, and some initially pleaded their case as to the importance of their skills in assisting us to organize a rule-following society. But we quickly found out that their presence was anything but helpful in that direction. We also have no need for stockbrokers, for obvious reasons, bankers – really, the entire financial field."