by Alex Myers
“It’s not. The last I have of her is down on the island of St. Lucia.” Payton looked more intently at the file and pages flew by. “I’m cross- referencing the university and what they have on St. Lucia. It’s definitely something to do with the school, but there’s double, no triple, protection on this. Not many people can set those kind of security roadblocks in place.”
“Can we get in there?” Jack asked.
“Sure, it would take a while… A better question is do we really care? This protection scheme is sophisticated; I’d love to have a go at it.”
“Can we come back to it? I think this all has something to do with our dad.”
“I’ve already started working on it, it’ll take a while, but the program will run on its own. Okay, let’s move on to something else. Now let’s transfer some funds to the Canters and pay for your boat. Let me ask you a question, do you care if I pay for the boat with your money?” Payton asked.
“I don’t want any problems with this. I don’t want them to have a bit of trouble—they’ve been so nice to me. It’s our mom too, don’t forget. Wait, why are you asking me this?”
“There is less chance of causing trouble for them if we don’t use your money. Right now there’s nothing tying you to this boat.”
A page similar to Professor Finney’s popped up out of a file drawer. It was labeled “Jonathan Riggs”, and it had a two-year-old picture of Jack, and it looked to be comprised of several hundred pages. The spaces for a ten-digit security code appeared and Payton asked, “Do you happen to know what it is? It’ll save us a bunch of time.”
“I don’t have any idea. I guess you’ll have to run your crack program.”
After a several minute wait, the numbers 5123905565 filled the boxes.
“Wait a minute, that number seemed really familiar for some reason,” Jack said.
“It’s ten numbers. If it’s a telephone number, 512 is the same area code as the University of Texas, so Austin, Texas. Do you know anyone there?”
“No, can you make a note? I’d like to try it on a few things.”
Jack’s page opened and his information hung in the air. “Why is the background of mine yellow? Brooke Finney’s was white.”
“It means there has been at least one unauthorized access to your account in the last week.”
“Can you tell who it was?”
“Can’t tell without spending a lot of time on it. Do you want me to check it out now?”
“Again, maybe later, just do the money transfer right now,” Jack said.
“Let me get this right, you want four point three million dollars transferred to Hampton Yacht Sales? It makes it a little easier that we are transferring into a business versus an individual.”
“Can you make it four and a half? I’m sure there’s going to be some extra charges, and what the heck, it’s only money.”
“Man, I like that casual attitude. You are not the same man, at least when it comes to money that is. Wait, this is excellent. You have a couple of corporate offshore accounts set up. I am going to take the money from those accounts. It looks like you are going to pay for your boat after all.”
Jack watched her debit the two offshore accounts and then credit the Cantor’s Hampton Yacht Sales account. “This looks really easy to do. Couldn’t someone with your skills just do this anytime they wanted?”
“Number one, there’s only a handful of individuals in this world who can do this—I don’t mean to brag. And number two, it’s easier if the person who you debit the money from isn’t going to claim that they suddenly lost the money.”
“And they won’t be able to trace this?”
“I never said that, but it’ll give us a nice head start. I’m not worried about the government finding out, you really aren’t doing anything illegal. I’m worried about our father.”
Lights began to strobe and a warning klaxon trumpeted.
“Oh shit,” Payton said with true fear in her voice. “Someone is in here with us—look.”
Three shadowy figures appeared fifty yards away. Details were hidden and they appeared as a translucent mist. As they got closer, their details were still not clear, but their outlines became more defined. They turned their heads from side to side as if they were searching for something.
“Who are they?” Jack asked.
“Can’t tell, not right now at least.”
“Why do they look like that?”
“Different computer system, different interface.”
The three figures were examining the file drawer Jack and Payton had looked at for Professor Finney’s info. For a second, one of the men looked in their direction and then looked away.
“Can they see us?” Jack asked.
“Of course not, I cover my tracks better than that.” She sounded incredulous. “We wouldn’t be standing here if they could.”
“Why? What could they do to us? We’re just running a computer program.”
“It’s much more dangerous and involved than that,” Payton said.
“What’s the big deal? They mess with us and we just unplug— right?”
“Not quite—because of this,” she touched her finger to the back of her neck. “This thing is hardwired into our brains; we’d be screwed. We entered a porthole, one porthole in, one porthole out. As long as we control our progress, we are linked to that porthole with a cyberthread. If that thread is broken, you could wander around in here forever.”
“Everything has its price, I suppose.” While he tried to sound casual, he couldn’t help noticing that the three men were close enough, their outlines distinct enough now, to discern that they were men and they were getting closer.
“What is really scary is if someone tries to bind you to their cyberthread. Of course, it releases when they exit their porthole, but it’s pretty freaky until they do.”
“Sounds like you’re talking from experience?”
“I am unfortunately. It was about sixteen months ago…you and I were in the Sacco computer system of our fathers—”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but look at this!” Jack said, pointing at the men. Two of the three men were looking at the drawer that contained Jack’s file and the third man was staring straight at them.
“Jack, I’m telling you they cannot see us, they might’ve seen where we were, but they can’t follow our trail—holy shit!”
The man who had been watching them got the attention of the other two and was pointing at Jack and Payton. They were talking, their voices distorted and muted.
“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Payton said.
“Which way?”
“Just follow me,” Payton said as she raised her arms to fly like she had the first time. Nothing happened.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said, “this has never happened before—come on let’s run.”
Payton took off at an all-out sprint, but before Jack took off, he saw the three shadowy figures start to take form and substance, their features becoming more distinct. He turned down the long corridor that Payton had turned into and ran after her. He could move more swiftly than he could in the real world and made long graceful strides. He couldn’t see Payton ahead of him, only the long row of file drawers whizzing past him, broken by the occasional aisleway.
A hand reached out from one of the aisles and grabbed his shirt, nearly knocking him off his feet. It was Payton.
“Jack,” Payton said panting, “my God, you move fast.”
Jack, who wasn’t showing any signs of exertion said, “I don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“Well, take my word for it.”
“I was starting to see those men materialize.” Jack was unsure of the terminology.
Fear spread across her face and she swallowed hard. “Oh no. I don’t know how they’ve done it, but they are tracing us. They must have a cracker on the other end and he’s got to be good, real good, probably ‘The Spirit’. We’re
screwed.”
“What would happen if they caught us?”
“They will know the location of our portal.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
“Not just the cyber porthole but the physical location of your boat. Plus, if you don’t find your way back, you could wander around in here forever.”
Jack started to understand the gravity of the problem.
“If they somehow get to us while we’re in here and unplug us, they would throw the whole program into stasis. That would induce us into a coma-like state.” She looked around the corner and showed Jack the men. The figures had gained more detail and they were well defined. Two of them were coming fast. “Listen Jack, I think we should split up.”
“You’re nuts. What is this, a bad horror flick? Hell no.”
“They’ve got to be following me. They had to have traced me the last few times I’ve been in here. They might have merged my visits together. It’s been at least eighteen months since you were last in here, you’re probably fine. I was in here last week—twice.”
“I think this is a really bad idea and besides, how would I get back?”
“You’ll instinctively know. You’ll be fine, besides you’re fast as hell. They are after me.”
Three thin men wearing dark suits appeared around the corner. They looked incredibly similar to one another.
“You are caught, stop and you will experience no harm,” the man in the middle said in a doppler-robotic voice.
“Go, now,” Jack said. He pushed Payton in the opposite direction from the men and advanced toward them. Jack hit them like a bowling ball after a seven-ten split. From the look of surprise on their faces and the way they all toppled, he knew they were unaware of him.
“You son of a bitches can’t see me, can you?” He yelled at them on the ground.
They didn’t turn in this direction, but instead continued to focus on the fleeing Payton. One of the men tried to stand but Jack roundhouse kicked his feet out from under him. He pushed the next one into a pile of file cabinets. They still didn’t look in Jack’s direction.
These guys don’t know what’s hitting them, he thought as he toppled the third man onto the others.
Even though they couldn’t see which direction Jack was coming from, they separated. They split up and each one went into a different direction.
Jack watched one of the men as he spoke into a watch. “They are thwarting our efforts to capture. We must separate and stay in pursuit.”
Jack could only pick one man to slow down, so he picked the man who had been speaking into his watch because he seemed to be in charge. The man moved with a distinct purpose, but Jack had the advantage of virtual invisibility. Once again, Jack swept the man’s feet out from under him and the man fell forward hard. The man immediately jumped to his feet, swung around, and faced Jack, eyes blazing.
“I don’t know who you are, but if I catch you, I will hurt you. If you continue to hinder our progress you will only make matters worse.” The metallic edge to the man’s voice reminded Jack of an acetylene torch cutting steel.
Jack moved to his left and the man continued to stare at the space where Jack had been.
“You still can’t see me can you?”
The man turned to Jack, “Don’t be so sure of yourself.” He removed a large knife from under his suit jacket and started to swing it in Jack’s direction. “I may not be able to see you, but I can sever your cybertie.”
The two men approached Jack from behind at a run. One hit and grabbed Jack’s arm, the other bounced off his back and deflected into some file cabinets. The other man had hold of Jack’s forearm and wasn’t letting go. The man in front of Jack was slowly approaching him, swinging the knife-like machete in wide sweeping arcs.
The man from behind had hold of Jack’s arm and was clawing for more. He was distracting Jack from the man in front. The man in front was less than five feet away when he took the big knife back, came down, and sliced the bright-white thread from Jack’s chest. Jack could see the gossamer thread that had been attached to his chest laying on the ground, rolling up into a ball retreating from him. How was he going to get back?
The man who had hit the file cabinet scrambled off after Jack’s thread.
“We have you now,” the man with the knife said. Then he drew it back and took another step toward Jack.
The man behind was still awkwardly hanging onto an arm, trying to figure out Jack’s orientation. Jack stepped forward with a tremendous force, snapped his arm, and locked out his wrist and elbow. It was Japanese aikido on steroids. Jack continued his forward movement and now angled his shoulder downward. With his other hand, he grabbed the man’s forearm and pulled. Jack could feel the man leaving his feet and guided his momentum into the man swinging the knife. The sharp object entered the man’s back and a second later, the shiny metal emerged from the man’s guts. The kinetic energy carried the tumbling man straight into the one who had lost his grip on the knife. They slammed into a file cabinet and slid to the ground.
Jack used his advantage of extra speed and agility to jump onto a cabinet and then to another and another until he hit a flat area devoid of color and texture. Then he continued to run. Once again, there was no sound, no color, no shapes, and no horizon. He could feel firmness under his feet but no passage of distance. He stopped running and looked around. There was nothing. No one was following him; it was as if he was in a snowstorm whiteout.
He remembered what Payton had said about this realm being what he made out of it. He tried to imagine cyberthreads, but saw dozens, and then dozens and dozens more until the world seems filled with dangling threads blowing in an invisible breeze. He closed his eyes and thought of his particular string. When he opened his eyes, he saw one single thread in the distance. He ran after it for the longest time without making any progress, and then finally caught up to it and took it in his hand. It led to the center of a black oval. Jack made it to the black, inky oval that’s vertical surface was tar black and rippled like water. He took a deep breath with thread in hand and walked through the hole.
He was back sitting on his boat.
Across from him, with that gentle face, warm smile, and same little blue beret, was Hercules’ grandson, Brent Hopwood. “Do you want to go back and see your wife?”
CHAPTER 7
“Where’s my sister?” Jack asked standing and looking around. “What have you done with her?”
“That is not the response I thought you would have had,” Brent said and calmly remained seated.
The cord that had been in Jack’s neck pulled free. “Payton! Are you here?”
“She’s not here, Jack. She was already gone by the time I arrived.”
“That’s impossible, she was just a little ahead of me.”
“I have been sitting here for three hours. I didn’t think you were ever going to come around. You have been in there over twelve hours and I can honestly say your sister was gone before we or you arrived.”
“You know about my sister?”
“Of course.”
“You were behind the people chasing us?”
“Of course. We didn’t pursue her, because it was you we were after.”
Jack tried to stand but fell back into his chair. It seemed like he had no control over his muscles. “What have you done?”
“Oh, that? You haven’t adjusted to using your muscles yet. It’ll wear off in a little bit.”
“I’m not talking about this. I’m talking about you trying to kill us.”
“We weren’t trying to kill you; we were trying to save you.” Brent sat calmly in the chair across from Jack with his leg tightly crossed and hands folded on his knee. He spoke serenely.
“Save us? From what?”
“I said save you, not save you both. It’s been my experience that your sister doesn’t need saving from anyone—that is, maybe, other than herself.”
“You sent those goons after Payton and me? And what did you do with Pay
ton?”
“Payton was wrong, we were not tracking her, we were tracking you. The more she made herself invisible, the more it highlighted you. We quit tracking her after she split from you. Just so you know, that was over twelve hours ago.”
Jack was starting to get feeling back in his extremities. He could move his fingers a bit. “Save me from whom, my father?”
“Lord no, I work with your father,” Brent said.
“You work with my father?”
“Let me rephrase that—I don’t work for your father, I work with him. That’s probably not even right saying it like that. Your father and I both work for the Sacco Corporation, but we don’t work together at all. We don’t even like each other. It’s my job to be a watchdog and your father’s the dog I’m supposed to watch over.”
“Then who do you work for?” Jack asked.
“Originally? Your wife.”
“My wife? Frances? She died in the early 30s. That would make
you—”
“Old,” Brent finished for him. “I’m real old, and I feel it, I tell you.”
“So I met you, right? You’re Hercules’ son?”
“Grandson. My father, Brent Senior, is whom your wife originally hired. I took over for him long ago.”
“Why me? Why the special interest in me?” Jack asked.
“Because we believe your father has traveled back in time and you’re the only one who can stop him.”
CHAPTER 8
As soon as Jack could stand, he was on his feet. He started to search for Payton, which took him topside. The boat had been docked beside a group of large buildings on a river. He had a bad feeling about this, as he looked around, trying to get his bearings. He walked over and looked at the GPS.
What the hell? He was at the SAC Plant in Williamsburg.
Jack ran back downstairs where Brent Hopwood continued to sit patiently in the same chair. “I told you she wasn’t here.”
“It’s you, Doctor Hopwood! Of course you wouldn’t lie, like hell. All you have done is lie. What was all that bullshit at Fort Monroe? All that about being a doctor. Was the letter from Frances even real?”