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Linkage (The Narrows of Time Series Book 1)

Page 3

by Jay J. Falconer


  Trevor nodded, then put his hand on Lucas’ shoulder and squeezed gently. It was clear Lucas wasn’t the only one tired of waiting for the Navy to deliver the power cores.

  Lucas saw an abandoned newspaper sitting on a neighboring table. “Drew, could you hand me that paper over there? I want to see if the Board of Regents voted to increase the tuition again—only one more semester to go, brother.”

  “You’re lucky you’re done. I’ve still got a full load to get through, plus exams,” Drew said, handing the paper to Lucas.

  “Don’t sweat it. You’ll ace them; you always do. I was the one who had to study my ass off.”

  “At least you’re getting a steady paycheck. I’m still working for free.”

  “How about I trade you my puny paycheck for your eidetic memory?”

  “Fine by me. I’d rather work in the lab than study, anytime.”

  Lucas opened the paper and scanned through the articles while they finished breakfast. His mind quickly wandered, dreaming about Drew’s graduation day, when Drew would receive his PhD and could join their anti-gravity project as a paid physicist.

  He smiled, thinking about his mother sitting in the audience, watching Drew roll up to the podium after hearing his name announced by the university president. She’d cried at Lucas’ graduation ceremony and he figured she’d do the same for Drew. Too bad Dad hadn’t lived long enough to see it. If there was a heaven, Lucas figured his old man was looking down right about now and watching with a grin on his face.

  Both of his adoptive parents put everything they had into making a better future for the two of them, and he was thankful. Drew’s life in the wheelchair would’ve been much different if they hadn’t been adopted out of the orphanage together.

  Drew owed the Ramsays big time, and so did Lucas. More than either of them could ever repay. It was the most compelling reason Lucas was committed to doing everything possible to make them proud. PhDs were just the first step—both he and Drew were going to make something of themselves. Then they’d make their mark in the scientific community.

  At least that was the plan before his paper submittal to Dr. Green went completely off the rails.

  Shit.

  He still didn’t know how he was going to break the news to his wide-eyed little brother.

  * * *

  That evening, Lucas and Drew cut across the street just west of the Student Union, headed to the John Koehn Memorial Science Lab for their nightly shift.

  The Tucson sun had just disappeared below the horizon in the west, setting the edge of the sky ablaze with color. Red, orange and purple hues stretched across the fading sky in random patterns, giving way to the first twinkle of stars. Nighttime viewing was about to begin, making all those waiting astronomers giddy with anticipation. Soon the heavens would open their folds and reveal more of their precious secrets.

  The science lab’s exterior was boring and drab, like its neighboring buildings: red bricked and shaped like an oversized chalkboard eraser. Each floor was outlined by a protracted series of evenly spaced, metal-grated windows, giving it a 1950s industrial look.

  The complete lack of imagination that went into the exterior design of the science buildings on campus always baffled Lucas. He couldn’t think of anything less conducive to inspiration and creative thought, two essential ingredients in the advancement of science. He’d always thought the buildings on campus looked more like Soviet tractor factories than university laboratories, which just so happened to be located in the heart of the desert southwest.

  He could hear the grind of motorized gears overhead while walking through the building’s courtyard. Above him was an 8.4-meter binocular telescope being repositioned along the building’s roofline. The $136 million telescope was the pride of the Astronomy Department. His boss, Dr. D.L. Kleezebee, Dean of the Astrophysics Department, had labored for years to raise the funds needed for its construction.

  “Looks like they finally got that thing operational. Kleezebee must be pleased,” Lucas said, letting a thin smile grow on his lips.

  “Speaking of Kleezebee, there he is,” Drew said, pushing his wheelchair forward with both hands.

  “Where? I don’t see him.”

  “You don’t have to. Just follow your nose.”

  Lucas caught a whiff of acrid cigar smoke in the air. He’d never understood why Kleezebee, who was loaded with money, chose to smoke the cheapest cigars on the planet. “Ah, yes. You’re right. He’s close—I smell him, but I still don’t see him.”

  “He’s to the right, behind the flower bed.”

  Lucas leaned to his right to see beyond the rose bushes blocking his view. His mentor was wearing his usual attire, blue coveralls and an orange-colored flannel shirt, standing bent over with one foot resting on the top of a short, cement wall.

  As they moved closer, Lucas realized Kleezebee was talking on his cell phone. It was partially hidden by a gray beard that stretched down to the middle of his chest. His trademark cigar smoldered between the index and middle fingers of his other hand, dangling precariously close to the flammable hairs of his frazzled beard.

  “Damn, that thing is disgusting. I can’t believe he smokes them.”

  “I can’t believe he gets away with it,” Drew replied.

  “Seriously, who’s going to stop him? Certainly not us.”

  “Still, it’s against the law.”

  “Never gonna happen, little brother. In the world of UofA Astrophysics, D.L. Kleezebee is the law. And let’s be honest, the powers that be would rather look the other way than give up all the money he raises.”

  Lucas intended to stop and ask his boss about their new lab tech, but changed his mind when he overheard Kleezebee’s side of the heated conversation. Some poor, unfortunate soul was on the other end of the line, getting an earful. He knew firsthand not to stand in the way of Kleezebee, once that flannel-covered tornado got rolling.

  Kleezebee’s voice was sharp and charged with anger. “Look, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think. You don’t know the first thing about it. Show me your degree in experimental physics, and I’ll listen to what you have to say. Until then, you have to trust me. I’m the expert, and this is what the university hired me to do. You need to let me do my damn job, and quit sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. I’ve been at this for more years than I can count and I guarantee you the project is perfectly safe. Besides that, it’s a done deal. The committee already signed off on it . . .”

  “Let’s talk to him later,” Lucas said, grabbing hold of Drew’s wheelchair and pushing him to the entrance of the science lab. The ancient revolving door screeched on its bearings as they made their way inside the apparatus together. Space was at a premium, so Lucas tilted the wheelchair back to raise up the footrests before pushing them against the thick Plexiglas. He’d learned through years of trial and error that this was the best method to fit them both inside at the same time—far easier than the backwards dance they had to perform on most regular doors.

  The brothers were waiting in line to check in through the lab’s front desk security when Kleezebee approached them from behind, gently grabbing Lucas by the shoulders.

  “How’re my two favorite scientists doing today?” he asked, massaging Lucas’ neck with finger squeezes.

  Lucas slid out of Kleezebee’s grasp and turned around. The professor’s keen, dark eyes were intense and probing, set deep in his face under a crop of thick, gray eyebrows.

  Lucas always had the sense his boss was hiding a myriad of secrets behind those eyes, making him wonder if he was about to become the punch line of a cosmic joke. It was a strange feeling, and difficult to explain—a feeling he figured was due to lingering paranoia from his younger days, when he struggled to survive in a state-run orphanage.

  “We’re good, boss,” Lucas said as his nose was hit with a waft of cigar smoke from Kleezebee’s wrinkled clothes. The odor nearly knocked Lucas off his feet, smelling as though the professor just walked throu
gh a rubber fire. “What’s the latest on the new lab tech?”

  “She starts tonight. I think you’ll like her—she’s brilliant. I just have to arrange her security pass, and then I’ll send her down with Trevor. Do your best to bring her up to speed quickly, all right?”

  “Will do,” Lucas replied, praying the new girl wasn’t as high-maintenance as their last assistant.

  “How’s your mom doing after her surgery?” Kleezebee asked with a genuine tone in his voice.

  Lucas appreciated the man’s concern. “She’s getting around okay. The neighbor lady’s keeping an eye on her.”

  “Are you guys planning to go home for the holiday?”

  “No, we’ve got way too much work to do here.”

  “You know, if you like, I can send Bruno to Phoenix to pick her up for you. I’d be more than happy to let her stay in one of my vacant apartments. I hate to think she’ll be spending Christmas alone.”

  “Thanks, Professor. It’s really nice of you to offer. I’ll ask her but I doubt she’ll take you up on it. She hates to be a bother to anyone.”

  “It’s no bother at all. It’s the least I can do, since she always takes care of me with her delicious care packages,” Kleezebee said, smiling. “Dorothy should really open a bakery. She’d make a killing.”

  “Everyone tells her that, but she likes teaching at the college too much. I don’t think she’ll ever leave that place.”

  “I know how she feels. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t work here every day,” Kleezebee said, patting Drew on the back. “I’m having Bruno and his guys over for a poker party at my apartment on Christmas Eve, if you’re interested.”

  Lucas wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want to disappoint his boss by saying no, but he and Drew didn’t play poker. He knew they’d be the suckers at the table. “We appreciate the invite, but we really don’t know much about poker.”

  “I think it sounds like fun,” Drew said to Lucas. “Come on, let’s give it a shot. How hard can it be? It’s all about numbers and probabilities, right? We’re good at those, remember?”

  Lucas nodded but didn’t give an answer.

  “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of grape soda and nachos for you two,” Kleezebee said.

  “How much money would we need to bring?” Lucas asked, considering the idea. It would need to be a super cheap buy-in; otherwise, they couldn’t afford the play. Not with Mom’s medical bills piling up.

  “We don’t play for money. We play for vacation days,” the professor said in a confident voice.

  That was exactly what Lucas needed to hear. “Okay, then, if that’s the case, we’re in. What time should we show up?”

  “The game starts promptly at eight; don’t be late.”

  “Anything else you need, Professor?” Lucas asked, remembering Kleezebee’s heated phone call outside the building. He pushed Drew’s wheelchair to the front of the screening line, wondering what bombshell was about to explode.

  “Yeah, there’s one more thing I need to talk to you about. One of those goddamn suits from Legal is on his way over here. It’s that frickin’ a-hole of a prick, Larson. God, I hate that pompous bastard. He says he wants to see firsthand what you two are working on. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but I need to give him the nickel tour.”

  “No problem,” Lucas replied, trying to hide his nervousness. The last thing he needed was some bureaucrat poking his nose around their lab. He didn’t want the scrutiny—not ever and certainly not today. He was worried that the paper he’d submitted online and the subsequent criticism from Dr. Green had sparked the inspection. If Kleezebee found out, he was fucked. All because of one mistake—something he did on impulse—something he wished he could take back. “Any idea what it’s about?”

  “I have no idea what his true agenda is. You’d think even a suck-ass weasel like him would have something better to do on a Friday night, but apparently not. I think he really gets off on being a total pain in my ass.”

  Lucas nodded in support as Kleezebee continued. “The man is a real piece of work, always pretending the rules don’t apply to him. He doesn’t think I know what he does at lunchtime, but I do. Sneaking off like that behind his wife’s back. He should be ashamed of himself.”

  “What does he do?” Lucas asked, wondering if he might be able to use the juicy secret as leverage against the man if he ever needed it.

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say it’s not the type of behavior you’d expect from a former gunnery sergeant in the Marines. It’s a wonder he still has a job around here.”

  Lucas was disappointed Kleezebee didn’t cough up the secret, but he wasn’t surprised. “When are you coming by, Professor?”

  “In about thirty minutes. Don’t worry, I’ll run interference and handle the prick.”

  “Okay, no problem. Whatever we can do to help. You know my motto. The project—”

  “—always comes first. That’s one of the main reasons I hired you, Lucas. I know you’ve got your priorities straight and you’ll never let me down.”

  A stabbing pressure hit the middle of Lucas’ chest when he heard those words.

  Shit. That’ll all change if he catches wind of the Dr. Green debacle. What the hell was I thinking?

  Kleezebee turned to walk toward the building’s entrance door. Then he stopped. “Hey, I almost forgot to tell you . . . your material finally arrived.”

  “Really? When?” Lucas said, celebrating with a huge grin.

  “A short while ago,” Kleezebee answered, returning his grin. “You look like a kid on Christmas.”

  “Yeah, I’m psyched. Never thought we’d ever get that stuff.”

  “Well, we have it now. Which means this is a big night for us. I need you to have everything ready to run, okay?”

  “Don’t worry, Professor. We’re on it,” Lucas answered, thinking about the unbelievable timing of this delivery. They’d been waiting for this material for months and months, and had he known it would arrive today, he never would’ve sent his paper to Dr. Green. He should’ve waited. Damn it, he couldn’t believe his luck. A few more days and he never would’ve been humiliated in front of the entire scientific community. It was almost like time and history were conspiring to twist his life into a knot with circumstances and coincidences meant to torment him, then sit back and see how’d he’d react.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” Kleezebee said before walking back outside the building.

  Lucas swung his eyes around, focusing them on the three armed security officers monitoring the security checkpoint. He emptied his pockets, as did Drew, preparing for the usual inspection of their possessions before they’d be allowed to walk through the x-ray scanner and weapons detector.

  As the lead officer came toward them, Lucas leaned in close to his brother’s ear and spoke in a whisper. “Here comes Bruno. Remember, don’t mention Mom, okay?”

  Drew nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

  Drew’s disability required a member of the security staff to carry him through the scanners. The task was usually handled by Bruno Benner, a twenty-year veteran of the campus security force. Bruno was easy to recognize even from a distance, given his hefty size, shaved head, and neatly groomed goatee.

  Bruno removed his duty belt and all the metal objects from his pockets before asking Drew, “Hey, Chief, you ready for a lift?”

  Drew smiled and nodded. “Taxi!” he joked.

  “Where to, mister?” Bruno replied.

  “Uptown,” Drew said. “The Ritz.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Bruno lifted Drew from his wheelchair and used his keg-sized gut to prop up and carry Drew to the security equipment. Both of the guard’s powerful forearms were covered with orange and black-colored tattoos of ferocious-looking creatures, which came alive whenever his muscles were active.

  The tattoos reminded Lucas of sinister comic book creatures, complete with big heads, pincher claws, and sweeping, long tails. He’d never as
ked his friend about the amazing artwork, even though he was curious to know why Bruno chose them over something more common. The guard was a talkative guy and Lucas figured Bruno would someday tell him the story behind the tattoos, and the expensive-looking digital watch he wore on his right wrist. It was a unique timepiece with a five-sided shape, much like the Pentagon building, and featured a series of tiny orange push buttons around its perimeter.

  Just before entering the first screening device, Bruno told one of his colleagues to fetch the backpack from the back of Drew’s wheelchair and bring it through the inspection station. A second wheelchair was waiting for Drew on the other side of security.

  “How’s that project of yours coming along, Dr. Lucas? Did you hear Dr. Kleezebee found a replacement for Ms. Gracie?” Bruno asked.

  “Yes, DL just told us. Trevor’s supposed to bring her by shortly. I don’t know about Drew, but I’m pretty excited. Always nice to have some new blood in the fire.”

  “New blood in the fire, huh? That’s an interesting way to put it.”

  “Yeah, you know, anything to get out of all that damn paperwork. Gracie was much better at it than me. If the new chick is half as good, we’ll be golden,” Lucas said, thinking about remaining behind for a few minutes to witness the new lab tech’s first encounter with Bruno.

  The guard had an uncanny knack for putting people at ease with very few words. His ability was truly remarkable, and it seemed to work on everyone he met. Bruno could probe someone’s background and gather details about their life and family with just a couple of choice phrases, while revealing very little about himself.

  Lucas knew about it firsthand because it had happened to him the first time he’d met the friendly soul. Within seconds, he began sharing private information with Bruno—information he thought he’d never tell anyone outside his immediate circle of trust, much less a total stranger.

 

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