The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  Since there was no physical manifestation for LIA, Beth stared daggers into the ceiling. “I wanted to figure it out on my own, and I believe I would have. I don't want a computer doing my job. I'm smarter than it is.”

  “Well, congratulations, you just helped prove the opposite,” Albert jeered. “I wonder why Ms. Baron chooses to contract you people when computers do a better job and cost far less. LIA’s technology might be dated by comparison to MIA, but at least I can rely on her reliability and efficiency. If I had it my way, you would all be replaced.”

  Every person in the room stared blankly, and that enraged Albert further. Now the yelling came.

  “Are all of you daft? I told you the problem, yet no one has moved so much as an inch! Now get off your fucking asses and fix it!”

  Panic-stricken, the scientists bumped into and stumbled over one another as they scurried away.

  “Ms. Arnold,” Albert called out, stopping the doctor as she was funneling out with the rest of the team, “where exactly do you think you are going?”

  Beth made sure Wilson remained by her side. “I-I planned on seeing to the matter personally.”

  “As much as I would love to see you fail, again, that is not why I arrived early.” He looked at Dr. Crowley and said, “Have Piggy here see to the matter. That is, if he doesn't have a heart attack first.”

  Beth flashed Wilson a look and in return, Dr. Crowley not-so-confidently replied, “It's okay, Beth. I know exactly where it is, I can handle it. I should have it back to full power in two to four hours. Don't worry-”

  “For your sake it better be done in less than two. Otherwise, I would worry, very much.”

  Wilson gasped, and for the fastest of moments, Albert thought he heard the man squeal like a pig.Fitting reaction for the fat man, he laughed inside.

  “May I ask where we are going, sir?”

  “To the test subjects.”

  ***

  Inside the main elevator, a screensaver with the words “ANT Systems” floated from border to border, but after being tapped by Albert's finger, the words blinked away, being replaced by floor options.

  Albert swiped his master identification card on the panel. “Stone, Albert. Number zero, three, one, four, one, eight, seven, nine,” he said, staring into the retinal scanner that mechanically revealed itself.

  “Dr. Stone, please lower your eyes,” LIA stated, but knowing the process, Albert had already obliged.

  After the scan, one additional floor manifested itself. Albert pressed the unmarked button, which caused the lift to jolt. There were a series of mechanical sounds from buzzes to clanks as the elevator switched tracks.

  Beth Arnold stood in the corner of the elevator, hands deep in her lab coat pockets. Looking straight ahead, she said, “We managed to take in five men, two women, and one child.”

  Albert raised an enthusiastic eyebrow. “A child? Interesting.”

  "But, I'm confused."

  "Of course you are."

  "I mean to say, I don't understand why you requested further testing. We know Ambrosia is one hundred percent effective at any stage in viral progression. The vaccine even works on someone who has contracted the infection so long as they haven't fully transformed. So-"

  "Why the additional tests? You will understand soon, or maybe you won't. Now tell me about the subjects."

  “As you requested we brought in a diverse group. There are many variations among the subjects. Ages range from twelve to sixty-one. There are multiple ethnicities, body types and injuries as well, but I've been curious...you never did say exactly what tests we will be running.”

  “Those details are not of your concern.”

  It did not feel as though the elevator had been moving, but seconds later, the decent ended and the doors parted. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all bright white like a brand new hospital. That is where the similarities ended.

  This oddly constructed room was without doors and an enormous one-way glass mirror replaced the far wall. In the middle of the room rested an elongated desk topped with computer paneling, multiple monitors, and small, digital machines that resembled music recording equipment.

  Albert strolled to the center of three chairs, set down the briefcase, and began logging into the system.

  “We found them wandering a few miles to the south,” Beth disclosed, tapping her foot anxiously. “They told us how they had been traveling across the country, camping and sticking to low-population areas. Just before we rescued them, they were hiding in the desert for obvious reasons...”

  Albert had yet to say anything, and discomforted by this, Beth felt obligated to continue.

  “Pat is the leader. He told me there used to be twenty-five of them in the beginning, but between fatal injuries, starvation, and the infection, there came to be only-”

  “Does it look like I care who these people are or what their historical accounts entail? I only care about running my tests and getting the answers to the questions I have.”

  The saliva in Beth's mouth had dried up. “I-”

  “Shut up and speak when I tell you. Nod your head if you understand that much.”

  She did.

  “Good,” he said, spinning back around to face the monitors. “I shouldn't have to ask this, but considering your lack of forthrightness with the synthesizer, I feel it is a necessary precaution. Is there anything wrong or noteworthy to mention?”

  “No. Your formula is perfect. There are zero flaws.”

  “I know it’s perfect, but I was speaking about the subjects themselves.”

  “No, they are fine.”

  “Second question. Exactly how long since they were administered Ambrosia?”

  Beth checked her watch, performed simple arithmetic and answered, “Thirty-nine hours and forty-three minutes.”

  “Good. Well beyond necessary,” Albert muttered. “Last, all subjects were clear of infection, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “Good. Let's begin,” Albert said, abandoning the traditional keyboard and mouse for technology vastly superior. He took position in between the desk and glass where lasers illuminated the air in front of him, creating a three-dimensional holographic screen. His hands waved through the air, twisting, dragging, pointing, and swiping until he located the first portfolio. “Him. Subject number two.”

  Suddenly, mechanical sounds, more intense than the elevator, originated from the other side of the glass. Not long after, the darkness illuminated, revealing a small room.

  The room itself mimicked a slightly larger, and vastly cleaner, prison cell. There was a cot with white sheets and a gray blanket, a sink, toilet, and enough room left over for a person to stretch comfortably.

  Curled up in a ball on the floor, a man awoke abruptly from his slumber. Disoriented, he scrambled to his feet and backed up to the corner.

  “Subject: Pat Clauson. Male, black, thirty-two years of age. Height: six feet, one inch. Weight: two-hundred pounds. Health scans indicate minor malnutrition and vitamin C deficiency. Additionally, I detected below average cholesterol levels and shrinking muscle density.”

  “That's good enough, LIA,” Albert ordered. The health documentation remained projected by green lasers.

  By now, Pat Clauson had paced back and forth yelling in all directions. “What's going on? Let me out of here! Where is Julie and the rest of my people?”

  When no response came, he turned his attention and anger to the one-way mirror. He repeatedly beat his hairless arms against it, spitting and screaming, “I know someone is in there! Come out now! Why are we being treated like prisoners? I want answers...”

  Albert's eyes narrowed to slits as he stared at the man like a reptile.Let the fun begin, he thought.

  He retrieved his briefcase and placed it flat on the desk. After entering an alphanumeric code on both sides, the locks popped and the case opened automatically.

  Beth leaned over Albert's shoulder to get a better view. To her surprise, there were no
pens, papers, business or medical materials to be found inside. Rather, built into the shell of the case was a machine, and one not like anything Beth or the world had seen before.

  “What's that?”

  A sinister smirk took over one side of Albert’s lips. “GOD.”

  A shiver ran through Beth's body.

  In the middle of the black felt-lined case, rested a silver, metallic sphere, and without any command from Albert, the sphere lifted, being pushed upward by a thin, cylindrical structure. Countless small blue lights chased one another along the steel body to the base of the sphere where they stopped, only to start again at the bottom. With each pass, the sphere hummed louder with a radiance of energy.

  “LIA,” Albert said, stepping away from the tower-like object back to the hologram computer technology, “enable communication between both rooms.”

  “Communication enabled.”

  “Mr. Clauson, correct?”

  “Who's there?” Pat responded, eyes searching unsuccessfully through the mirror. “Hey, what the hell is going on here? Let me out! Take me to my friends!”

  “Calm down. First, I need to get some information, then you will be reunited with your friends,” Albert said, rolling his eyes.

  Pat's teeth ground together. He appeared to be debating the proposition, but soon came to terms that he did not have any other options but to comply. “Fine, whatever, but this is bullshit.”

  “How are you feeling?” asked Albert, though not concerned.

  “Fine, just severely pissed off. You and your people said you were going to help us. Said you were going to give us some vaccine, but then you ended up kidnapping us and holding us against our will. How the hell do you think I feel?”

  “I encourage you to stick to the nature of the questions, as this process will go much faster without the additional complaints.”

  Pat snorted. He shook his head slightly and exhaled away some of the anger. “I feel fine. I was given food an hour ago, so I'm not hungry. I haven't slept since being captive here, and I'm very agitated as you can tell.”

  “Good.” Albert's fingers moved over the midair technology, pulling up a schematic of Pat's internal body, similar to a three-dimensional x-ray. “Does your family have a history of cancer?”

  “No, not that I know of.”

  “Heart disease or cardiovascular complications?”

  “No.”

  Albert carried on asking background questions until Pat finally erupted. “NO! NO! NO! No to everything! Everyone in my family was healthy! I don't understand why you're asking me these questions!”

  “Alright. That will do,” Albert said, walking back to the briefcase. He placed his hand on the sphere and closed his eyes.

  “Dr. Stone, is there something I should be doing?” Beth asked timidly.

  “Shutting up would be a start.”

  Beth stepped toward the glass and waited, uncertain of what to expect.

  “Hello?” Pat asked, knocking on the glass. He placed a hand over his brow, thinking that would somehow help him peer through the glass. “What's going on? Look, I'm sorry for yelling. Can I see my friends now? Hello?”

  Albert's eyes snapped open. “How would you describe feeling now?”

  Unknown to Pat, every vein and artery in his body pulsed a deep ocean blue before dissipating. “I told you I feel fine,” he began, but yelped in pain. He fell to both knees, grabbing at his stomach and the spasms that ached within. Breathing heavily, he clenched his teeth and said, “I guess not fine, something…something hurts, bad.”

  “What the hell?” Beth mumbled.

  “LIA, display the image for Mr. Clauson to see.”

  “Wh-what am I looking at?” Pat said, staring at an active, holographic display of the internal workings of his body, though he didn't seem to know or put it together.

  “I’m afraid you have stage two stomach cancer.”

  Beth looked back to Albert. Her slack jaw and raised eyebrows bore the same shock and confusion as Pat. “I don't understand. We didn't discover that after conducting our initial health assessment.”

  “What? That's impossible,” Pat declared, though stopping to spit up a wad of blood. “It can't be. All my life I ate healthy, worked out, and never had any history-”

  “I'm sorry, I was wrong,” Albert corrected.

  The pain appeared to subside momentarily, allowing Pat to rise to his feet. He wiped the trails of blood from his lips and said, “I thought so. It was probably just something you guys fed me-”

  “No, I mean I was wrong about the number. It’s stage four.”

  “I- what?”

  “And you actually have brain, colon, kidney, and liver cancers as well. I'm sorry,” Albert said, though not apologetic by any stretch of the expression.

  “What's happening to me?” Pat asked, this time witnessing the blue glow emanate from his body. He could feel blood trickle from every orifice and touched a finger to his nose to verify.

  Immediately following, Pat gargled and yelped, mind unable to understand what was happening. Then, he dropped to the ground and writhed in pain, screaming incomplete cries for assistance.

  Beth placed both palms on the glass. “He's dying! Shouldn't we do something?”

  Albert didn't flex a muscle; his same reptilian stare gazing with subtle pleasure. “You're correct. He is dying. Specifically, twelve-seconds from death. There's nothing you can do.”

  Beth watched in horror as the man coughed, bled, and choked himself to a gruesomely painful end. And after enduring the worst pain of his life, Pat Clauson rolled onto his back and died in agony, leaving behind a white tile floor stained by pools of blood.

  Albert smiled, stepping away from the sphere. Using the hologram computer, he located the next subject. “LIA, bring out Number Seven.”

  Mechanical sounds were heard through the walls again, as the room containing the deceased man rotated away, only to be replaced by another exactly like it.

  In this particular room, a small boy sat on the cot, back up against the wall. The boy's left eye and surrounding area had been traumatized by chemical burns, thus leaving behind blotted scar tissue and a clouded cornea.

  “Subject: Niko Nguyen. Male, Vietnamese, twelve years of age. Height: four feet, five inches, eighty-five pounds. Health scans indicate moderate to severe malnutrition and vitamins C and D and calcium deficiencies. Additionally, the subject is blind in his left eye.”

  “Good enough, LIA,” Albert said, dissecting the subject with his eyes. “Niko, how are you feeling?”

  The boy sat there, unresponsive. His skin was loose against the bones; muscles almost nonexistent. His black hair was dull in color, and his good eye was pale and dry.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Niko gave a partial nod affirmatively.

  “Okay. I am going to ask you a few questions. After, I will get you a hot meal, how does that sound?”

  Before Albert posed his first question, Niko pointed to the vent above his bed and asked, “Wh-what happened to Mr. Clauson? That was him screaming, right? I heard his voice.”

  Albert rolled his eyes. “Yes, that was Mr. Clauson. He is fine. He needed surgery, and has been taken away.”

  The explanation appeased the boy.

  “Now, Niko, I need you to stand and go to the center of the room,” Albert said, hands swiping the hologram display. He tapped the word “initiate” and two tiles on the floor in the boy's room slid open and a pillar erected. “I need you to put that patch over your right eye.”

  Initially, the boy did not move.

  “Come on, Niko, the sooner you do this, the sooner we can get you some food.”

  Slowly, Niko rose, and walked cautiously to the podium. He picked up the patch and placed it over his eye, securing the elastic band around his head.

  “Make sure it completely covers the eye.”

  Niko adjusted accordingly. “I-I can't see anything now.”

  “LIA,” Albert said, walking back to his
briefcase, “project image sequence.”

  The Artificial Intelligence reacted without hesitation, controlling the lasers that shot out from the top and sides of the boy's room. The lights created a virtual horse, galloping in place.

  “What do you see?” Albert asked, placing his hand over the orb.

  “Nothing. I can't see anything.”

  “Dr. Stone, he's half-blind and you made him cover up his good eye.”

  “Ms. Arnold, I realize that. Now shut up.” Albert closed his eyes. “Niko, are youabsolutely certain you cannot see anything?”

  Niko spun around in a circle, tilting his head every which way, assuming he was missing something. And like Pat, Niko missed the muted blue pulse illuminate his circulatory system.

  “No, I, wait…”

  With each passing second, Niko's jaw dropped lower. He blinked multiple times, and each time the eyelid opened, the milkiness in his cornea dissipated.

  “I don't get it,” Niko said, smearing the laser produced image with his waving hand. “I-I see a horse. I see everything in this room. I-I don't understand, I can't see out of that eye, but I can now.”

  “Niko, I am going to change the image, and I want you to tell me exactly what you see.”

  Albert ordered LIA to cycle through a series of images. As the boy identified each image correctly, the wonder in his face blossomed.

  “I don't understand. I have been blind for a long time, but whatever you did, helped me to see again,” he said, smile filled with hope. “Thank you so much, whoever you are.”

  “Very good,” Albert replied, smirking.

  Beth noticed the look on Albert's face. It was the same look he had right before telling Pat about the cancer. She watched Albert close his eyes again and grab the sphere.

  Then her attention turned to Niko as he knocked against the mirror.

  “I-I think something is happening,” Niko said, a look of panic replacing the momentary happiness. “M-my vision is getting blurry again, no, now it's gone. I can't see! What happened? Please!”

  Albert was anything but concerned. He moved back to the hologram computer and cycled through the remaining subjects.

  “Dr. Stone, I don't understand? What's going on? Mr. Clauson went from no cancer to stage four, and somehow Niko gained his vision back from permanent blindness. Both of which are medically impossible,” Beth declared carefully. “Am I missing something? Are you doing that to them?”