Harmonics: Rise of the Magician (Harmonics Series Season One)

by Chris Snelgrove

  Reed's eyebrow shot upwards. "Not to be ungrateful for your generous offer, but what personal services could I possibly want from Mr. Cho?"

  The translator hesitated at this statement. As she started to speak she was interrupted. "Mr. Reed, I was not offering my personal services, but rather the personal services of my lovely translator. I understand you will be here for a few more days. Let her show you the sights and scenes of this great area."

  Sneaky greedy…now I remember why I hate these little… Reed did not let his expression change. Inside he could barely restrain the flow of adrenaline that was coursing through his body. He looked at the translator, who was staring at the floor. He knew he wasn't going to get a better offer. "Well, I suppose we have a deal th–" Just then a loud crack sounded. The young man grabbed his radio and spoke rapidly into it. Mr. Cho barked orders to the man, who swept out of the room quite suddenly. Then he turned to Reed.

  "This estate is surrounded by a very old forest. Branches fall all the time. There is nothing to worry about."

  "Branches you say? Just how secure is this place?"

  "The highest level of security and detail was put into your visit tonight. Rest assured you are well protected."

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, Reed's stoic face sagged just slightly. He had known this was a bad idea. "Well, Mr. Cho, let's get our business concluded and then I will be on my way." Reed glanced to the translator. "Or I guess, we'll be on my way."

  Mr. Cho opened his mouth to reply when he noticed the air in the room dropping in temperature. His breath fogged as he started to speak. He looked around. Everything seemed to be normal. Then his eyes stopped at the far end of the room. Something on the wall looked out of place. The paint seemed to be changing color along a vertical line that started just above the floor and ran up the wall and then continued along the ceiling. The odd line seemed to stop right at the fire sprinkler. Mr. Cho gazed at the line, wondering if he was seeing things. He called to another man in the room and pointed towards the wall. Just as the man started to walk across the room, the clattering began. Pipes jangled and clanked in the walls. Reed had followed Cho's gaze and was now watching the far wall as well. He dropped his scotch.

  ***

  The night had gone exactly as Cho had anticipated. Despite having to reveal that he did not need his translator, Reed's weakness had shone through just as Cho had planned. Bringing the lovely woman along to the meeting had been sheer genius on his part.

  If it weren’t for that disturbance outside, he would have considered the whole thing a complete success.

  Cho saw the Chairman's face dip slightly. "Well, Mr. Cho, let's get our business concluded and then I will be on my way." There it was; like clockwork, the man's lust took control. "Or I guess, we'll be on my way."

  Cho was just about to reply when he saw his breath cloud from his mouth. What was going on? He looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place. But then why was it so cold all of a sudden? Something across the room caught his eye. Something about the far wall seemed…off. Cho saw a vertical shimmer start from just above the floor and continue up past the darkened window to the ceiling. He watched as the odd discoloration continued across the ceiling and terminated at the fire sprinkler. He called to one of the remaining guards and told him to check out the wall.

  Suddenly, there was a loud metal clanging. Cho looked around the room, trying to figure out what was happening. He caught sight of the Chairman, the panic painted on his face, and the now empty tumbler on the floor. The banging grew louder and louder. Cho whipped his attention back to the far wall. The paint and plaster were starting to crack and crumble to the floor. He stood up and started to back away from the wall. Just as he saw Reed start to stand, a copper pipe burst through the ceiling. Reed screamed and covered his face with his arms, but nothing happened. No water, no mist, no nothing. The clanging had stopped.

  Cho watched as Reed peeked out from behind his arms. The Vice-Chairman stared at the frosty pipe hanging rigidly from the ceiling. Reed slowly turned to Cho with a questioning expression on his face. Cho started to speak, but just then a hollow pop sounded. Cho watched in slow motion as a column of ice rocketed out of the hanging pipe and skewered Vice-Chairman Reed through the chest.

  ***

  Somewhere far beyond the reach of the FLIR cameras and German shepherds, a man dressed all in black runs through the forest at a breakneck speed.

  The Project

  Time: Five years, 14 days after the desert facility was destroyed

  Scene: Boardroom of MESA labs

  "In our top story tonight, a ranking member of the UON Science and Technology Advancement committee was brutally murdered at his secure apartment home. While authorities are being tight-lipped about the murder, anonymous inside sources spoke with us about the event. Mark Brown has more."

  "A gruesome scene unfolded last night in the apartment home of Dr. Yuon Shu, a member of the United Organization of Nations Science and Technology Advancement committee. Dr. Shu was best known as a leader in cutting edge research on computer-human interfaces over the last 10 years. At his new post in the UON, he was in charge of approving funding for various companies around the Collective that sought to improve the standard of living by introducing much needed advancements in healthcare, agriculture, and education. All that work ended here in a bloodbath late last night. Sources inside the UON investigation confirmed that Dr. Shu was at his apartment under guard due to recent death threats made against him. Before we were escorted off premises, we were able to obtain this still of Dr. Shu's apartment."

  The image moved alongside the reporter as other footage of the scene played in the corner.

  "As you can see, the doorframe was split in two by what looks like an earthquake of some sort. But my source tells me investigators found no evidence of any other part of the building being affected, nor were there any geological events last night. Further, rumors indicate that Dr. Shu's personal guard was found just inside the door.

  "Initial reports show that the guard appeared to be killed as a result of head trauma caused by the shifting floor. Any additional details about Dr. Shu's death are sketchy at best. It seems there are a number of unanswered questions, the most pressing being how an assassin gained entry into this high security residence, took out a personal guard, and accessed the secured apartment without the use of explosives, rigging, or heavy equipment."

  The vids of the scene minimized off screen as the vid of the reporter filled the space.

  "Now, my source tells me that investigators have not ruled out some sort of portable mechanical device to jack the underlying floor, but upon inspection of the floor below, no evidence has been found. The UON is holding a press conference later today and we will bring you any further details."

  "Thanks Mark. With so many unknown questions surrounding this high profile death, do the authorities have any leads on the assailant?"

  "Tina, from what I can gather, investigators are searching for details that will help them find the person or persons responsible. But I will say that as we have been reporting from this location, we have heard a number of whispered conversations among investigators and other news feeders about another possible strike by the famed Magician. However, we have not heard anything official confirming that."

  "Well, thanks again Mark. Keep it tuned to this feed. We will bring you updates as this story progresses. Now a look at the markets. In heavy trading this morning…"

  "Turn it off. I think we have heard enough," said the old man at the head of the dark cherry wood boardroom table. The holographic image of the newsfeed faded out, leaving a company logo spinning slowly above the projector. Men in dark suits lined one side of the table and sat opposite a line of lab techs, all in white coats. Monitors with floating heads hung just behind the seated men, and more came on line as others joined the meeting from remote locations.

  "This recording of the incident two weeks ago marks the latest use of the lost proje
ct," the old man said in a low voice. "The media can speculate all they want. Our plants inside the UON have confirmed the modification of the floor of the apartment. No explosives, no mechanical devices. Preliminary vids taken right after the incident show that the floor was simply mod'd to jut up three feet in that isolated location. Warrick, load the feed."

  A younger man tapped some commands on an interface and the spinning logo faded to a display of charts and graphs. Warrick cleared his throat.

  "As you can see, the spectral analysis of the floor shows a slight increase in residual energy. I believe that – "

  "Slight is the key word here," interrupted a white coat at the other end of the table. "Your residual energy blip is less than the fluctuation in the calibration sequence. Before you go sending us on another covert op to chase down yet another dead end, don't you think we should have some more proof that this is a result of the missing project?"

  Warrick looked unfazed. "Doctor, I appreciate your healthy skepticism regarding the retrieval of an asset your department lost. I'm sure we all understand how your past attempts to recover the long lost project have jaded you and perhaps dampened your hopes in recovering it. But please, and I mean this in the kindest of ways, shut up."

  "I will not shut up, you sniveling little punk. I was splitting atoms when you were still setting fire to your hair with your home chemistry set. As I have voiced many times before, I know my project. I know what it was capable of. I have the test results just prior to …well, the most recent data we have. There is just no way it is capable of this type of complex modification."

  "Doctor, your test results are five years old. As we have discussed previously, we are in the dark as to what its capabilities would be if left unmonitored or worse, found and further developed. Warrick enlarged the graph to show the small blip in the otherwise flat line. "This spectral evidence confirms that molecular modification has occurred."

  "Do you even understand what you are talking about?" the doctor blurted out. "Who would even have the resources to further develop the project? In the past, we have seen copious amounts of residual energy being left at the scenes of these so-called assassinations. First responders have even filed reports of the trees and earth around the modifications being warm when the ambient temperature is quite cool. What you are inferring, Warrick, is that whoever is using the prototype has somehow learned from our attempts to track its use and has started to police its brass, so to speak, by cleverly dissipating the residual energy that ensues after structure modification. Do you have any idea how asinine a theory that is? We are talking about a technology that, when we last saw it used, was barely able to bend a toothpick. And that feat was accomplished after months of intense work!"

  "And yet its use has graduated from bending toothpicks to high-tech assassinations. Oh, and let us not forget these images from the night when you lost the project." The charts faded into holographic images of skewered guards and charred hallways of what looked like a research facility. This seemed to put a damper on the doctor's protest. Warrick continued.

  "Besides, our recovery team was first on scene and confirmed the use of the prototype. Our local agents have made the needed arrangements with the UON investigation and with the local LEO's. Standing gag orders have also been issued to those who have advanced knowledge of this situation."

  The old man stood from his chair and walked to the full-length tinted window of the conference room. He stood staring out for a few minutes before he spoke. "Gentlemen, while we will pursue this new development in recovering our property, we must press forward with our efforts. Kingston has a report on the good professor that I believe all of you should hear."

  Warrick passed the tablet to a man in an expensive looking black suit. He tapped out a few commands and the face of a middle-aged man began to rotate at the center of the table.

  "As most of you know, Dr. Eli Thurman has been a part of our efforts here for quite some time now, although the good doctor doesn't really know that. It was Thurman's early work into M-theory and resonant frequencies that led us to borrow his research, which eventually led to the interface lab. We have been keeping tabs on Thurman and his work for a number of years, but the rebuilt interface lab has recently indicated that it may be time to acquire Thurman as an official asset to MESA. Developments in user acceptance testing have suggested that success may be just around the corner."

  Kingston changed the holographic image to a vid of Dr. Thurman in a lecture hall.

  "Currently, Thurman heads a university research lab that has limited resources. We at the company have obviously progressed far beyond their work; however, the interface lab has yet to produce a working model as advanced as the project is. Seeing the rising cost associated with the increased quantity of coding needed, it has been suggested that we start our efforts to bring the doctor on board."

  "I understand that most of you share my concern about the doctor finding out how we used his research for the advancement of our goals," said the old man still staring out the window. "Kingston and the head of the interface lab have begun to develop a plan that will give us access to Thurman and keep him at a safe distance from the more sensitive efforts that are currently being undertaken."

  "Yes," confirmed Kingston. "The head of the interface lab has been working on this acquisition for a number of years now. It is his opinion that when Thurman comes on board, we could be looking at building another prototype on par with the perceived current specs of the lost project," Kingston glanced at the white coat at the end of the table, "in a minimum of 12 months."

  "And what developments has the lab made and why do we even need Thurman if we've progressed so far beyond his current research?" asked a nameless man in the middle of the line of suits.

  "Well, short of giving you the entire briefing," replied Kingston with a smirk, "the head of the interface lab has reported that they have run into a challenge with current prototypes accepting the coding. However, this latest iteration has shown slightly less adverse declines in performance after the coding trials, but is still hampered by its side effects. While the lab has mitigated these with the advanced U/I that they have developed, this is only a temporary solution. The head of the lab believes that Thurman will be able to fill in the gaps to make the interface seamless."

  "Do you really think Thurman has the ability to advance us further than what we've been able to accomplish?" asked the nameless man.

  The old man turned from the window. "Eli Thurman is the reason this company has been so successful in our interface pursuits. Eli Thurman combined the needed theories to produce the science that allowed us to build the prototype. Eli Thurman is unmatched in his understanding of quantum dynamics and Tesla's works. Aside from his moral objections to some of the things we do around here, Eli Thurman could advance this company into the next century with the knowledge he possesses." The old man walked over and sat in his chair. "With the combined talents of the head of the interface lab and Thurman on board, we would finally be able to change the recovery of the project into the termination of the project and eliminate those who perpetrated its theft. We would be able to produce what we have been trying to craft for almost the last decade. So in answer to your question, yes, we believe that Thurman has that ability. Gentlemen, I believe that will be all for today. Please file your reports with your respective division heads."

  The floating heads faded into spinning logos as the men around the table stood and started to exit the room. Kingston docked the tablet, listened as the old man whispered something to him, and left the room as well. A trip down the elevator, four biometrically sealed doors, and three guard posts later, Kingston stepped into the office of the head of the interface lab.

  "The old man wants to come down and see the new prototype," said Kingston softly.

  The man behind the desk raised his head slowly to look at Kingston.

  "Is it…online?" asked Kingston.

  Without replying, the man stood from his desk, walked past Kingston
, and continued down a separate hallway. The two walked in silence as they passed entry after entry. At the end of the hall, they came to another biometrically sealed door. The man stooped to scan his eye and then waved his hand across the screen. A moment later, the viewing port slid to one side. The man indicated for Kingston to look for himself. Kingston stepped up to the small window and peered into an almost pitch-black room. As his eyes strained to see the contents of the room, a dark outline anchored to a table slowly came into focus.

  Lady in the Lake

  Time: Seven years after the desert facility was destroyed, early morning

  Scene: Academy City 676

  Ok, ok…you need to focus. I know you don't want to, but you just need to do it if you want to pass.

  Sam took a breath and started to read, but almost tripped as she did. She hated walking to school. It wasn't that she didn't like school. School was just fine. It wasn't that she disliked walking either. In fact, she rather enjoyed walking. What she didn't like was walking to school while attempting to finish an essay for her stupid critical writing class. That was really annoying. And of course the dumb essay was due on the very day she was going to meet Richard to –