Why was this being thrust on him? He wanted nothing more than to run away and pretend the surreal conversation had never happened. But where could he go? Despite the doubts clinging to the mantle of his mind, part of him was intrigued. Someone had manipulated their arrival at Tantalus Station. That alone was a startling revelation. Now he had just seen a morgue full of dead miners, and more of them quarantined...
What is going on down there?
The lights in the corridor flickered ever so slightly, causing Emerson to look up and quicken his pace.
As the observation deck was left vacant once again, a small saurian shape retracted its listening sensors and skittered to a dark crevice on the outside of Tantalus Station to transmit data and await further instructions.
9
Dr. John Reed was escorted into the dimly lit conference room, now empty except for a solitary, battle-scarred figure sitting at the end of a large table. Redding, annoying to the last, marched exactly three paces past the security door threshold, saluted, and executed a crisp about-face to silently disappear the way he had come.
Reed impatiently closed the remaining distance between himself and the admiral, who did not look up from the book he was reading.
“What’s this all about, admiral? How and where did you get those images of my kids?”
“You’re asking the wrong questions, Dr. Reed,” answered Prescott calmly. He gently turned another page in his book, further antagonizing an already exasperated Reed.
Reed lowered his head until it was inches from Prescott’s, close enough to see where the synthetic and natural met and meshed on the older man’s visage. “Now look here, admiral, I’ve had it with military bureaucracy and protocol. My home’s just been obliterated, my wife still has glass shards being pulled from her face, and my children are missing. That snot-nosed ensign shows me their pictures and tells me you have the answers. Just what the hell is going on here?!” Reed pounded the conference table in anger.
Prescott finally looked up from the ancient tome and stared at Reed over the bridge of his spectacles. “Please control yourself, doctor,” he said in a quiet voice. “This table is a venerable antique, paid for by the blood of navy men across the centuries.” He stared at Reed, taking the measure of the man. “What makes your kids more exceptional than any of the rest on Entropia?”
“What do you mean? You answer my question with a question? I can’t get a straight story out of you people!”
“As far as we can tell, yours were the only two the Triven took.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“My dear doctor, it has everything to do with it. Do you think we’d put so many high-value UNSA assets on the line to track two teenagers?”
“What. Are. You. Talking. About?!” Reed spat out each word, his blood pressure rising.
“For someone who has worked as long and as closely with Richard Avery as you have, Dr. Reed, you are surprisingly uninformed about his methods. Would you like something to eat? You must be famished after your ordeal.” The sudden change in topic caught Reed off guard.
“Huh, what? No! I mean yes. I would!”
Prescott motioned to a shadowed steward who quickly and precisely pulled out a chair and set a place for Reed: serviette, fork, knife, spoon, water glass, wine glass, full coffee service, and plates of varying size set in exact orbit around the main dish. All fell into position as if assembling for a parade.
“Just a salad for me please, Spencer,” said Prescott.
“Yes, Admiral, right away.”
Reed was taken aback by the speed, efficiency, and elegance of something so simple as a steward setting the table. He sank into his seat and tried to compose himself despite how haggard he felt.
“Now,” Prescott began again, “we can discuss the relevant issues dispassionately without hunger injecting rancor into things.” Food and drink appeared in rapid succession, taking the edge off of Reed’s temper for the time being.
The admiral took a few bites of his salad, then moved it to one side. “I’d like you to take a look at something, doctor, then give me your professional opinion as an expert in genetic manipulation and neo-eugenics.”
Reed wiped his mouth with the cloth serviette trimmed in UNSA livery and shot Prescott a guarded look.
“Okay, admiral. You were courteous enough to wine and dine me so I’ll table the question about my children for a moment.”
“Actually, this concerns them, too.” Prescott made some quick gestures on his small datapad. Two rotating sets of chromosomes appeared on the screen between them. “Do you notice anything peculiar about these, doctor?”
Reed studied the holographic images carefully. Placing his hands around the first set and drawing them apart, he expanded them to study the specific DNA of each.
“Well, one’s male, the other is female. Beyond that, there’s nothing unusual about either of these sets of chromosomes or the DNA strands that compose them.”
Prescott threw another set of holographic chromosomes beside the first. “And these?”
Reed gave them a cursory glance, then expanded them like the first pair. Prescott watched him closely, waiting for his reaction. Reed delved deeper into the DNA, past chains of double-helixes, and began examining clusters of molecules. He looked back at Prescott in amazement.
“This is some of the most sophisticated genetic manipulation I have ever seen. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s...” Reed hesitated.
“It‘s what? Don’t mince words with me, doctor. I’m cleared at the highest levels, including the BLUE MONARCH program.”
“This has Richard Avery’s signature all over it, but I’m not familiar with these combinations.” Reed sipped his iced tea. “It might have something to do with GRYPHON, but again, I’d only be speculating. Look at these combinations here”—Reed pointed too vaguely for Prescott to follow, but the admiral let it go—“This guy is going to be a real bruiser. He’s got DELTA markers throughout his entire system: muscle mass coded for maximum growth, improved nervous system for faster reaction times, hardened bones, and enhanced, triple-oxygenated red blood cells designed for greater stamina.”
Reed was in his element now—teaching, explaining, and to a certain degree showing off his intellectual pedigree. The admiral commanded men and ships, but Reed commanded the molecules that unlocked a fearsome human potential desired by the UNSA forces.
“Please continue, doctor,” said Prescott.
“Well, this young woman has the standard BETA coding, but there are some additional markers here that I’m at a loss to explain without further study.”
“Give me your best guess.”
“Honestly, admiral, I’d be making up fairy tales. These two will both be incredible additions to the BLUE MONARCH program. Who are the test subjects?”
Prescott settled back in his chair and waited for Reed to make the connection.
“Well?” Impatience crept back into the doctor’s voice. Prescott sighed and brought up holographic images of Branden and Ashley.
Reed flew into a rage. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” He stood up suddenly, knocking over his drink.
“I assure you, doctor, I’m deadly serious,” said Prescott, ignoring the mess.
“You’re saying Richard Avery experimented on my children without my knowledge?” The enormity of the situation overwhelmed Reed and he sank back down into his chair.
“The short answer is yes. But the real question is why. The BLUE MONARCH program has plenty of test candidates. What drove him to experiment on your children is anyone’s guess at this point.”
Reed stared dejectedly at the floor. Had he really been so blind, so completely unaware of what was going on around him? Prescott was still talking, but the words no longer registered. Good God, what has he done to my kids?
“ ...which is why we need to bring him in for an extensive debrief. Are you still with me, doctor?”
“Do you know where he is?”
/> “I beg your pardon?” asked Prescott.
“Do you know where Richard Avery is?”
“Yes, we have assets en route to retrieve his entire party. However, there are other factors in play that I’m not at liberty to discuss at this time.”
“What about Branden and Ashley?”
“We are tracking them through other UNSA technical means, but for now they are beyond our reach. What I need from you doctor is a favor.”
“From me?”
“I’ve set up a lab in one of the more remote corners of Normandy Station. Its computers and automates are isolated from the rest of the UNSA network and guarded by heavily armed Marines. It also has backups of the Entropia data link, right up until the minute of the Triven attack. I want you to see if you can decipher Avery’s work. Doing that will answer both our questions. Agreed?”
Prescott had just thrown the drowning man a lifeline. After only the briefest hesitation, Reed stood up again.
“Agreed. But I’ll need some help.”
Prescott made a beckoning motion with his left hand. A young man and young woman, perfect physical specimens in form-fitting dark blue jumpsuits appeared from the alcove where Prescott had waited earlier in the day.
“You two have just been briefed.”
“Yes, sir!”
“I want you to assist Dr. Reed with his research. See that he gets whatever he needs. If you’re unsure of anything, clear it directly through me. Understood?”
Two perfectly synchronized salutes affirmed comprehension.
“Thank you, admiral,” Reed said. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“You’re welcome, doctor. Remember, we are on the same team. Please keep me apprised of any developments, no matter how small.”
“Absolutely.” Reed turned to go with the two young officers.
“And, doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s leave DARAC out of this for now.”
“Any particular reason why? He has helped us with some of our most critical breakthroughs.”
“The reasons are purely my own for now. Please indulge me.”
“Very well. It may slow things down.”
“So be it.”
Reed turned again to leave, flanked by the male officer. Prescott made a discreet hand motion which the female officer perceived and she drew closer to him, blocking Reed’s line of sight to the admiral’s face.
“Sir?” she asked in a tone so low Prescott could barely hear it, even with his aural augmentation.
“Assistance and observation only. Read the man and report every detail to me. Dial your pheromones down; he’s happily married and does not need any distractions. Your counterpart has different orders. Confirm.”
“Mission confirmed, sir.”
“Carry on.”
She pulled a quick about-face and walked briskly to catch up with the other two.
Prescott sat back in his chair and sighed with the weight of many years—a weight technology could not completely assuage. He pulled up one last set of DNA and watched it spin silently before him in the soft light. The baseline and altered pairs were as different as night and day. The identification code on the file read simply: E. Avery.
10
Anton Correlli sat quietly in the all-faiths chapel, unaware that both Emerson Avery and Armand DeSoto were hunting for him. With his limited telepathy, he usually knew when people were close to him by the clarity of their thoughts. So it was a disconcerting surprise when DeSoto stepped through the chapel’s threshold and cleared his throat. Training and strict discipline over his muscles killed the reflex to turn around suddenly. Correlli maintained his prayerful attitude for several seconds.
Finally he opened his eyes and slowly turned to face DeSoto, who presented his usual dispassionate and disarming look.
“Ah, Lieutenant. I’m glad I found you,” he said benignly, immediately putting Correlli on his guard.
“How can I be of assistance to you, Mr. DeSoto?” replied Correlli evenly, putting DeSoto on his.
“Well, I was hoping you could explain these aberrant communication signals we detected.” He tossed a small datapad at the BLUE MONARCH, who quickly caught it.
The request hung uneasily in the air as Correlli reviewed the transmission profiles he knew all too well, but each man was content to let silence fill the space between them.
“You’re a hard man to read, Mr. DeSoto,” said Correlli, tossing the datapad back. The double meaning was not lost on the director of security.
“Thank you. The benefits of a disciplined mind. I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself. So, these signals, what do you make of them?” Let’s see if he tells me the truth.
“They are restricted UNSA frequencies. Beyond that, I’m not at liberty to discuss their use or capabilities.”
Half-truths... Well now, what game are you playing at, Lieutenant?
DeSoto started to respond, when he noticed the small piece of cloth nestled in Correlli’s hand. Let’s take a different approach shall we?
“You know, I’ve seen all kinds of talismans, trinkets, and religious ornaments enter and leave this chapel, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite as pedestrian as your piece of cloth there. May I ask what it is?”
“Are you familiar with the Roman Empire, Mr. DeSoto?”
“Only generally. I’m not a historian by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Well, this is a very special heirloom that has been passed down through my forefathers. All of whom were soldiers, of course.”
“Of course.”
“This ancestor was a centurion in the Roman army, a hardened and experienced veteran of many bitter campaigns against the barbarians in Germania. His last deployment was to the garrison in the province of Palestine.”
DeSoto shifted slightly, exhibiting the barest hint of impatience, but Correlli ignored him.
“He had a servant, a man who had served him faithfully on campaign for many years. The servant was getting on in years, but the relative ease of garrison duty did not tax him greatly. Everything was going well until one day the servant suffered a massive stroke that left him bedridden and on the verge of death.”
“A pity. Now—” interjected DeSoto, attempting to regain control of the conversation. Correlli persisted.
“But he lived several more years and passed peacefully in his sleep in the home of the centurion.”
“That beggars belief, Lieutenant. There was nothing anyone in that time could have done for him, from a medical standpoint.”
“I agree; he should have died. Yet he was miraculously healed. This small piece of cloth is from that servant’s cloak. It’s a reminder to me that all things are possible with faith.”
DeSoto finally saw an opening.
“Does that include your unauthorized transmissions miraculously reaching their intended recipients?”
“I make no apologies for trying to contact my chain of command, Mr. DeSoto.”
“Or attracting a Triven strike force?”
“Those frequencies are totally secure. The Triven don’t even know they exist.”
“Indeed. Does that justify lying and withholding information from me?”
Correlli remained silent and unmoving but felt his adrenaline surge.
“I trusted you and your companions to abide by my explicit instructions. You can’t guarantee those frequencies are completely undetectable.” The BLUE MONARCH stood stoically, refusing to engage with the smaller man.
“You could jeopardize this entire operation by violating the strict signal protocols we use to ensure our security here. That’s why I gave you an opportunity to use our own channels, Lieutenant.” The lights flickered ominously as if to underscore DeSoto’s point.
In the sporadic darkness, Correlli saw something flash in DeSoto’s eyes—an unnatural glow that warned him of cybernetic enhancements—but it was too late. In a blur of motion, DeSoto moved from the threshold to the center of the room, far
faster than was possible for a man his age. Pulling the stunner from his jacket, DeSoto leveled it at Correlli and put his other hand on the big man’s right shoulder in a vise-grip.
Ignoring the weapon, Correlli tried to break the older man’s grasp with a powerful blow from his left arm. But his efforts were in vain. DeSoto looked mildly amused and slowly increased the pressure on Correlli’s armpit. “Bionics over biology, Lieutenant. It would be unfortunate if I had to dislocate your shoulder.”
Correlli breathed heavily through clenched teeth. He could feel tendons and ligaments straining, the bone slowly moving out of its socket and the searing burn of protesting tissue. The pain was excruciating, but he pushed through it to keep his arm firmly in place.
“You have spirit, sir. Alas, I do believe you are outmatched.” DeSoto allowed himself a small measure of respect for the soldier. He would not, however, let it interfere with his corporate responsibilities. His cybernetics allowed him a very precise application of force, which he increased yet again.
Correlli struggled briefly, his shoulder on the verge of failure, until four heavily armed security personnel materialized outside the chapel. DeSoto smiled ever so slightly, then spoke into his wristcomm. “Locate Dr. Avery and keep him under discreet physical surveillance immediately.” An affirmation crackled back.
“All right, let’s go.” DeSoto brusquely moved Correlli forward with his vise-grip and the barrel of his stunner nestled between the BLUE MONARCH’s shoulder blades.
Unaware of the confrontation playing out ahead of him, Emerson Avery quickly approached the chapel from the opposite direction along the curve of the corridor. Feeling extremely self-conscious, he checked behind him for station security as casually as he could. As the lights struggled again to stay lit, he whipped his head forward. Calm down! I’ve given no one any reason to suspect me of anything! Slowing to a more natural pace, he assumed the demeanor of a curious teenage boy, then focused on what he wanted to say to Correlli.
Cerulean Rising - Part II: Evolutions Page 4