The Sabbath

by Nsenga, Arthur

  Adam and Cory came running in from the corner.

  “I need a tablet! Mine got a bullet hole through it. I have to track him because we looked everywhere, and we still can’t find him,” Adam informed Bienaimé.

  Bienaimé left several men to watch over the scientists as he led Zaire, Lana, Destiny, Cory, and Adam to hunt for Dr. Phils.

  “Destiny, give your tablet to Adam,” Bienaimé instructed. “Lana, you’ve been analyzing and memorizing the layout of this building for days, see if you can help Adam find Doug.”

  Adam took the tablet and activated the bracelet. A green beacon flickered on the screen. Lana glanced at the screen and knew where to go. She was surprised how accurate she had imagined the way the place looked. However, finding the doctor proved to be a difficult task. With Adam and Lana guiding, they kept searching.

  “Adam and I have already been through here,” Cory said.

  “Yeah, Lana…are you sure we’re going the right way?” Destiny added.

  “I’m positive,” Lana barked, frustrated and a little annoyed.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s not let this turn us against each other,” Bienaimé interjected, attempting to keep the peace. “Adam, is the communication still down? I don’t want them contacting anybody.”

  “Yes, Professor, the radio signal has been scrambled and anything from an email to a phone call goes to the tablet first for approval—”

  “It’s here!” Lana interrupted, pointing at the closed door with Dr. Phils’ name in big, bold, black font.

  “Yes, this is it,” Adam agreed.

  “All right, guys, not a sound - remember we don’t want him to know that he is being tracked. Cory, switch your gun to tranquilizers, and everyone else stay on live ammunition. Cory, you’ve got the first shot,” Bienaimé instructed.

  Cory grabbed the doorknob before mouthing, “It’s locked.” Zaire brushed Cory aside and shot the door open. So much for keeping quiet. Cory re-took his position as the head of the group.

  Pushing the door open, he poked his head in. The others followed behind, one by one, each covering a section of the enormous, high-ceilinged office with their weapons. It didn’t take long to figure out Dr. Phils was not there.

  Toggling back and forth from the tracking signal to the blueprint, Lana was mind-boggled as to why Dr. Phils wasn’t standing in front of them. Disappointment and exhaustion were taking its toll, and Lana doubted her abilities to find him.

  “Shit, this is the last room in this hallway, where else could he be?” Zaire asked.

  Cory stepped out to confirm Zaire’s statement.

  “Yeah, this is the last one,” he said, returning to the room.

  Everyone was ready to search elsewhere, but Lana refused to give up.

  “Wait,” she shouted. “Adam, let me see the tablet one more time.”

  Without a fuss, Adam handed it over. Everyone waited, hoping she figured something out.

  “Okay, from where we’re standing and the tracking beacon, he should be in front of us, but the blueprint shows that there should be another room over there,” Lana said, pointing to the wall.

  Bienaimé wasted no time; he hurried to the wall and pressed his ear against it. He knocked on it, while moving side to side. He stopped.

  “Someone bring a hammer - I think I’ve found it,” he said.

  “Hammer? I got the tool right here - move aside,” Zaire roared, raising his ten gauge shotgun.

  Bienaimé stepped aside as Zaire fired away. A gaping hole appeared where he had aimed. By the time the dust cleared, Cory had kicked down the wall that remained.

  “Look at what we have here,” Bienaimé said, looking at the passageway they had just created. “Good job, Lana.”

  “Thanks Bienaimé,” Lana said while giving Destiny a cold glare.

  A narrow hallway led to a small, open area. Cory was the first to step inside, and the rest followed. Cory had his gun ready, and as soon as he rounded the corner, Doug materialized out of the gloom and fired. The shot went wild, and Cory returned a few shots of his own. One hit Doug in the chest; the other his forehead. Doug let out a quiet grunt before collapsing. Cory smirked as he stood over Doug. Too bad these are just tranquilizers, he thought.

  “Ah, Dr. Phils,” Zaire said.

  In a corner, a man quivered behind a desk in a fetal position, with his head down. Bienaimé approached him, and the rest followed. In a swift motion, Zaire grabbed him, pulling the doctor upright, revealing a metal briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. Dr. Phils stood with his back pinned against the wall, Zaire’s hands pressing against his shoulders. His eyes were shut and he refused to open them, as if this would be his end, and he would rather not see it coming.

  “Now, what do we have here? Come on, we’re not going to hurt you,” Zaire smiled.

  Dr. Phils shook his head, and said, with his heavy Russian accent, “I haven’t seen your faces yet. You guys can still turn around, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

  Bienaimé laughed, “Come on, doctor; you don’t want to see an old friend?”

  Dr. Phils open his eyes wide at the sound of Bienaimé’s voice.

  “You,” he shouted. “You did this? How dare you? I’m going to have you killed.”

  Bienaimé laughed off Dr. Phils’ threat, but Zaire took it personally. He swung hard at Dr. Phils’ stomach with the back of his gun, sending the doctor back to the ground, gasping for air.

  “Now, I told you that we were not going to hurt you, but you couldn’t refrain from making those kinds of threats,” Zaire scolded, glaring down at Dr. Phils.

  “That’s enough! Pull him up - we don’t have time for this,” Bienaimé ordered.

  Zaire did as he was told; he pulled Dr. Phils back to his feet, and then sat him down on the desk.

  “Ah, that’s better. Now, first things first - what’s in the briefcase that’s so important, that you just had to get it handcuffed to your wrist?” Bienaimé asked.

  Dr. Phils glanced down at the briefcase, then grabbed it with both hands and wrapped his arms around it.

  “That doesn’t concern you,” he barked.

  Bienaimé thrust out his open hand toward Dr. Phils.

  “Give it to me,” he demanded.

  Hugging his briefcase tighter, the doctor shouted, “No! Like I told you, nothing in here is of value to you.”

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m still going to have to ask you to hand it over,” Bienaimé replied, “or…we can just cut it off, at your wrist.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Dr. Phils snarled.

  Bienaimé chuckled as he stepped toward the doctor; he leaned forward until his lips were inches from Dr. Phils’s ear.

  “You’re right. I probably wouldn’t. But just like you, I have plenty of people who are willing to do my dirty work,” he whispered. “Now, let this be the last time you test my patience. I recommend from this point on, you’ll do exactly what I say - when I say it.”

  Bienaimé pulled his face back, seeing that his message had resonated. With his hand trembling, Dr. Phils reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He took off the handcuff and handed the briefcase over. Bienaimé took the case and set it upright on the desk. A number combination kept it secured.

  “What is it?” Bienaimé demanded.

  “Two-four-zero-eight,” Dr. Phils choked, his voice trembling.

  One thing for sure, the doctor was no soldier - not even a shadow remained of the man who had barked orders at his guards. His current situation voided him of the little fighting spirit he’d had.

  Entering the code, Bienaimé opened the briefcase. Inside was a large, clear tube filled with crystal blue fluid. Beside it was a syringe filled with a blue substance.

  “Well, doesn’t this look important!” Bienaimé said sarcastically as the others gathered around to see what he was staring at. “What is it?”

  Bienaimé waited for the doctor to respond, but he kept quiet instead. He mustered everything wit
hin himself to keep silent.

  “Well, what is it?” Bienaimé repeated.

  Dr. Phils pursed his lips, struggling not to reply. Bienaimé rolled his eyes.

  “We already went over this. Seems like you’re choosing the hard way right now,” Bienaimé scolded.

  Even with the looming threat upon his life, the doctor remained quiet.

  “-Guess he wants to do this the hard way, Zaire,” Bienaimé said, stepping aside to make room for his colleague.

  “Despite popular beliefs, I like the hard way,” Zaire seethed as he took his eyes off the briefcase and walked toward Dr. Phils.

  With a devilish smile showing his straight, bright-white teeth, Zaire reached into the side pocket of his backpack, pulling out a short black object that fit in the palm of his hand. Looking every bit the predator, he whipped his hand in the air, causing the small object to expand into a long baton.

  Once it snapped in place, Zaire whipped the baton in midair several times, each whistle more deafening than the last. Zaire was terrorizing the doctor, who was now a teardrop away from sobbing. He took a big gulp as he braced himself for the first blow — and then came a loud thud. Dr. Phils cried out in excruciating pain before crumbling to the floor. He placed his hands up to surrender, with shimmering tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “Please, I beg you. I’ll tell you what it is. I am no soldier - I am a scientist. My loyalty is to science, nothing else,” Dr. Phils faltered, out of breath.

  Zaire scoffed, “It wasn’t even worth hitting you a second time, real men don’t quiver and cry after being hit once.” Before walking away, Zaire spat on the ground near Dr. Phils, showing disdain and utmost disrespect for the coward.

  “Zaire may not hit you again, but I have more men who would be more than willing to continue in his place. You’ve wasted enough of our time. What’s in the briefcase? Tell us straight - no more stalling,” Bienaimé demanded.

  Dr. Phils remained on the ground, but moved from a lying position to sitting on his buttocks. He said, “It’s the cure for ATHENS. It’s the final product. Perfect, with minimal side effects and completely stable.”

  No one moved or said anything. For tense moments, the only thing they did was breathe - and only because it was an automatic response.

  Lana was too overwhelmed to keep quiet any longer, “Are you serious?” She silently prayed this was the perfect breakthrough, just in time to rescue everyone.

  “By the way he tried to protect that briefcase with dear life, I’m going to make an educated guess and say this is the only sample in existence,” Cory added.

  “Yes, I just stabilized it about a week ago. I still have to wait for more supplies to enable me to make more…there are very powerful people out there, who pay me good money to do what I do - are you sure you want to get involved with them?” Dr. Phils said, still sitting on the ground, looking defeated.

  “What are they planning?” Bienaimé asked, ignoring Dr. Phils’ warning.

  “Like I told you before, I’m just a scientist, they don’t tell me about their plans until the last minute. My guess is that they wanted it as a safety net. Look around you; the world is over populated. You need people to die and remain dead. This cure takes away that invulnerability and re-establishes order. One thing I do know is that they don’t plan on using the cure anytime soon. Not until they are finished.”

  “Finished with what?” Zaire asked.

  “World domination, of course, order through chaos,” Dr. Phils replied matter-of-factly.

  “Man, I hate the Government,” Lana added.

  Dr. Phils laughed at Lana’s comment, “I see you have these kids brainwashed too, my old friend. It’s not the Government doing all of this -never was. It’s the one percent, who are behind all of this.”

  “For just a scientist, you sure do know a lot. Who’s the one percent?” Adam asked.

  “Well, I don’t pass up the opportunity of new knowledge when it presents itself - and that’s the thing, nobody knows who they are. They’re the richest of the rich and have been around for centuries, influencing some of the most powerful people. They are the ones who are responsible for the Sabbath, and have encouraged people like you thinking it’s the Government so that they can have somebody to blame when things go south…but Bienaimé is right about one thing: in order to stop them, you do have to go through the Government.”

  “Never mind that right now…how much could you make, and how would you administer the cure to the world population?” Bienaimé asked thoughtfully and inquisitively. His expression showed he was already conjuring a plan to cure the world.

  “On a global scale? That would be impossible to determine without going through weeks - if not months - of data. This isn’t like ATHENS, where it can go airborne. You see, once the gel is exposed to hydrogen, it turns solid. I was thinking of administration as a form of a pill. The hydrogen does nothing to the formula that I’ve observed, so I think it’s the safest and easiest way of exposure,” Dr. Phils explained, still seated on the ground looking up at everyone.

  “For god sake, get off the damn floor. Get up and talk to us like a man, even if you have no more dignity left. Pretend that you do!” Zaire interrupted the conversation.

  “Pills won’t work as effectively as The Sabbath though,” Cory said after Dr. Phils was standing on his feet.

  “I know,” Bienaimé said. “I got an idea, but for now, there’s work to be done. Phils, how do we get to the prison undetected?”

  Dr. Phils scoffed; astounded that Bienaimé would ask him for anything after torturing him.

  “I have no idea,” he said, his voice rising.

  Zaire pulled out his baton, whipping it in the air.

  “Your attitude isn’t very becoming. It seems like you still don’t want to help us,” Zaire said, moving closer to the Doctor.

  “No! I really don’t know. I don’t go to the prison. There’s no reason to. If I need someone to test my experiments, the guards bring them to me. I don’t leave this building,” Dr. Phils exclaimed, afraid that Zaire would strike more rapidly than he could speak.

  “Ahh, so they are keeping people captive!” Zaire added.

  “Would you have access to the prison?” Adam asked while unlocking his tablet.

  “Um, yes. All the scientists do; we just don’t take advantage of it. We’d rather have them come to us,” Dr. Phils said, looking around at the other people in the room.

  “Great, I may have an idea,” Adam said, his face lighting up. “Doctor, can you provide us with routes to the prison - as in the most popular route the guards would use to transfer supplies and prisoners back and forth from here to the prison?”

  “Perhaps, yes,” the doctor replied.

  “Okay, this is my plan,” Adam continued, “If we disguise ourselves as guardsmen and scientists, we can get inside the prison before they realize anything. With the doctor’s help, I’ll get Lana to draw up a route that could take us right to the control center, then we’ll carry on the same plan we had before.”

  “That might work,” Bienaimé said. “What do you think doctor? What are the possibilities of us being caught before we reach inside?”

  “Interestingly enough, the young man is correct. Between this building and the prison, doctors aren’t as guarded. We are free to move around without being monitored. Out of good faith, I am willing to accompany you in exchange for my freedom,” Dr. Phils bargained.

  “Doctor, you don’t have a choice - but do good by me, and I’ll treat you right. If you try anything funny, then there’s a bullet in your head,” Bienaimé replied. “Destiny, grab the cure, please. That’s yours to protect - and watch him closely… Doctor, if you think you can take her on, think again. If she doesn’t shoot you first, she’ll definitely cut you, and she aims for major arteries.”

  As Bienaimé spoke, Destiny closed the briefcase, putting it inside her backpack. She pulled out her knife, waving it at the doctor. The knife was exquisite: the hilt was hand-ca
rved and fit perfectly in Destiny’s hand. Watching the light glisten off the curved six-inch metal blade, Dr. Phils’s legs went weak with fear as Destiny brandished it in his direction.

  “One more, Doctor. How’d you guys do it? How did you guys target the religious people?” Bienaimé inquired. “I’ve been trying to figure out how you could round them up so quickly.”

  “Ha! I thought a man such as yourself would have known by now,” Dr. Phils gloated. “No matter, I have no objections of telling you my greatest accomplishment.” He raised his chin and continued, “In fact, it’s the finest achievement ever in science. Nanites were embedded in ATHENS. They were programmed to recognize religious materials- based on keywords and shapes. Once located, DNA retrieved from the objects was catalogued, making the chosen targets easy to harvest. Those that we couldn’t capture were reduced to dust by the nanites.”

  “And the Bible, and other sacred writings, how’d you get rid of that on a global scale?” Lana asked.

  Dr. Phils smiled.

  “Well, that was a joint effort. The corporation filtered out all apps and religious materials online. Those that remained, the nanites got to them. As far as physical artefacts, the nanites also reduced them to dust.”

  “You’re proud of what you did huh. Well let me wipe that smug off your face,” Zaire scolded, raising his hand to strike.

  “Enough,” Bienaimé said. “Zaire, get everyone ready to leave in five - we’ll tell them the plan once we’re together.”

  “Got it,” Zaire said, radioing the other members of their team.

  Cory bent over Doug and pulled out a set of keys from the unconscious man’s pocket, and then tossed it to Bienaimé.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Bienaimé said.

  They walked Dr. Phils to the entrance of the building where the other scientists were held hostage. Charles greeted them.

  “I see we got what we came for,” he said, embracing Bienaimé.

  “How are the others?” Bienaimé asked, concerned.

  “We lost ten men - one of them took a bullet in the head,” Charles answered.

  “How bad is it?” Bienaimé asked.

  “Brain-dead. Who knows how long it will take for his brain to regenerate - that’s if it ever does.”