The Secret Page

by Al Turner

  “Without a doubt,” Tripp said. “Now let’s all watch this before we continue our discussion.”

  He began the presentation and they stared in wonder. Tripp and Daniel had already seen it, but they eagerly watched it again. The left side of the screen showed the cavern, a man-made wall in the background.

  As the video played, the wall bowed inward, imploding from some unseen force on the other side. Concrete blocks were ripped away until a gaping hole formed. They watched in horror as a man in a white coat, his arms flailing, was dragged away into the unknown.

  Simultaneously, in the right frame, a vortex formed in the heavens and pulled the floating platform into it. The implosion had occurred just as the violent sky abated and what was left of the platform fell back into the ocean.

  “That’s crazy!” exclaimed Daniel.

  “What in the hell was that?” asked Carson.

  Tripp said, “My theory is based solely on the data before us, but I believe this was an experiment involving opening a doorway from one location to another. Obviously, something went terribly wrong.”

  “No shit,” Carson said.

  Daniel’s eyes lit up. “So it was a wormhole?”

  “That’s the best explanation I can think of. So yes, it would appear so.”

  Carson seemed puzzled. “So this wormhole is like something from a sci-fi flick?”

  “Yes, except it’s more than science fiction. It’s consistent with Einstein’s general theory of relativity. Think of it as a conduit through space–time that creates a shortcut between two points distant from one another.”

  “Sounds like science fiction to me,” Carson replied.

  Daniel could hardly contain his excitement. “Do you know what this means? We could cross immense distances in space in the blink of an eye.”

  “If we could stabilize such a connection,” Tripp said. “But what we’ve just seen shows what happens when an experiment of that magnitude collapses. I find it hard to believe anyone would attempt it anywhere near our planet, much less on its surface.”

  “You give people too much credit.” Carson laughed. “Do you suppose Dad was there that day? If so, why? Was he on the platform or in the cavern?”

  “All good questions. I have no idea, but—” It was as if he was mentally connecting the dots. “Of course, it would make sense.”

  This aroused Carson’s interest. “What makes sense?”

  “Let’s assume Dad, for whatever reason, is more than the custodian of family secrets. What if he’s one of the few survivors of this catastrophe who knows the science involved?”

  Daniel had his reservations. “He’s a preacher, dude. Creationist theory might be the closest he’s ever gotten to science.”

  “But it was Dad who built that complex under our building.” He turned to Carson. “Remember when Mom used to help us with our homework? When would she send us to Dad for assistance?”

  Carson felt it was a curious question and thought back. “He always helped us with the hard science stuff. So what? He was good at it.”

  “He was more than good. He had a depth of knowledge that could make your head spin.”

  Carson was usually the one with crazy conspiracy theories, not her brother. She felt odd suddenly playing the skeptic. “So did my physics teacher in high school. I doubt he has mercenaries chasing him. Are you actually suggesting that a preacher holds the key to some sci-fi mumbo jumbo?”

  “Key!” Tripp shouted. “Dad had the key—though scattered abroad—all along. It’s likely—forgive the term—a key ingredient that someone would need to reproduce the experiment that failed long ago.”

  Carson thought it made sense. “They tried to grab us so Dad would have to give them the key. When that failed, they killed his best friend.”

  “It’s a theory.”

  “Something doesn’t quite add up. If this key was well hidden, why would Dad want us to gather up the pieces?”

  “We’d have to ask him that question.”

  “Just another item to add to the ol’ list.”

  Daniel had something on his mind. “Tripp, do you suppose your uncle died in that experiment?” It seemed a serious question at first—that is, until he grinned. “Or has he just been hanging out in the chamber above us for the past twenty-five years?”

  “Not funny,” said Carson.

  Tripp tried in vain to hide his amusement. “Let’s not speak of the dead—or the undead, for that matter.”

  Daniel burst into laughter, while Carson’s sour expression suggested she found the subject anything but humorous.

  “Screw both of you,” she said and flipped them the bird.

  Daniel tried to slap her shoulder the way she typically did to them, but she dodged it. “C’mon, Carson, you’re usually the morbid one.”

  “Not when it comes to family, dipshit.”

  Daniel poked at her again to put her in a better mood. “Maybe we can ask Pops his theory when he gets here.”

  An image appeared on the large monitor above them. Pops glared down at them. “Is that before or after I put my foot up each of your shafts?”

  “Hey, Poppy!” Carson exclaimed as she spun around. “Are you here yet?”

  “I’m landing now. Stay put.”

  “Pops, we’ve made some stunning discoveries,” Tripp said proudly.

  “You’ve also placed me in a tough spot. As guardian of those secrets, I’m sworn to protect them.”

  “Yet I was given full access to them,” Tripp blurted out.

  “That’s something I’ll be taking up with your dad.”

  Carson came to her dad’s defense. “It’s not his fault we’re so curious.”

  She detected a flicker of amusement, but Pops reverted to a sober expression. “Baby girl, your actions will have consequences.”

  His tone and words concerned Carson. “Poppy? We’re family.”

  “You’re more than that now. Each of you, willing or not, will help shoulder this burden.”

  “Burden?” Carson asked.

  “Playtime is over. Your initiation starts the moment I arrive. Prepare to be boarded.” With that, Pops’s image disappeared from the screen and they all stood around silently for several seconds and stared at one another.

  “That was even eerier than what your mom said before she signed off,” Daniel said.

  “Yes,” Tripp said. “We may have crossed the point of no return and inadvertently brought about our conscription into this secret organization.”

  Daniel and Carson considered the potential ramifications, and a broad smile formed across Carson’s face. “Damn skippy. This shit is just beginning, folks. Maybe now we’ll learn some kick-ass dark secrets.”

  “That or we’ll be subjected to a life of servitude under the mysterious syndicate.”

  “Nah, Poppy has our backs. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Tripp looked incredulous. “I think you’re underestimating the gravity of what we’ve discovered. Pops isn’t taking it lightly—nor should you.”

  Carson considered it. “Okay, we’ll see what Poppy has for us.” She turned and headed back to the other side of the chamber. “I plan on asking about that missing page.”

  “The diary or the uncle?”

  Carson kept walking. “One probably leads to the other.”

  Daniel called to her. “Now where are you going? Pops is almost here.”

  As his voice echoed across the chamber, another sound emerged from the other side—the old machinery coming to life. The elevator was on its way down.

  “Poppy’s already here,” Carson said from the hallway she had entered. “Tell him I’ll be in the kitchen trying out the spaghetti.”

  ***

  Pops waited for the slow elevator to grind to a stop before he opened the antique door and stepped into the dimly lit cavern. He shuddered at the thought of even being in the place. The sooner he got back to the sea, the better. He was glad he had worn the thin brown jacket—though once he
returned to the surface, he’d regret it once the Texas heat hit him. At least it did allow him to conceal more than just a pistol.

  Pops’s old eyes struggled to adjust to the low light and focus on who was at the control center as he approached. He ignored the trickling water to his left, as it reminded him he was basically walking through an underground riverbed. With a grunt, he climbed the few steps up to the platform.

  Tripp was the first one he spotted. His grandson turned to greet him, smiling. That, at least, was a good sign—he hoped so, anyway.

  Pops opened his arms and embraced Tripp with a hearty hug. “Good to see you, boy. Where’s Daniel and your sister?”

  Tripp moved aside to reveal Daniel rising from the floor, where he’d been trying to plug into something underneath the console. “Daniel is right behind me, while Carson is in the kitchen eating some form of ration she found.”

  Pops grunted at the thought. “The food is a lot better on the jet we’ll be taking home.”

  “Good food sounds awesome, Pops,” Daniel said, and he put his arms around the old man.

  “You’ve been busy, Danny boy,” said Pops. He grabbed Daniel by both shoulders. “Should the worst-case scenario occur, know that Fumi was a good friend to me. His family is my family.”

  “Thanks, Pops.”

  Pops reached into his shirt pocket and produced a piece of paper and handed it to Daniel. “Now I have something else for you guys. Since you both like to discover new things, tell me what the hell this means.”

  Daniel read both sides of the paper. “‘Doppelgänger’ and a bunch of numbers on the back. Where did it come from?”

  “It was the last thing I received from your Uncle Fumi before the—uh, incident with his yacht.”

  Tripp took the paper from Daniel. “The term itself means an apparition that represents or is a counterpart to a living being. The numbers could be coordinates of whatever Mr. Fumi was trying to show you.”

  Tripp handed the paper back to Daniel, who scowled as he tried to make sense of the numbers. Then his eyebrows rose as if another thought had entered his mind. “I’ve got another theory.”

  Daniel walked over to the console and typed away on the metal keyboard. The large round monitor above came alive, and he brought up an Internet browser and tested adding periods after every third number. After a moment, a dark screen appeared with a single text box and a red button labeled SUBMIT.

  “What exactly am I looking at, boys?” Pops asked.

  Tripp offered his explanation first. “Those numbers must represent an IP address, the numeric, raw form that points to a device on the Internet.”

  Pops eyed his grandson. “You found a website?”

  “Yes, a darknet website, to be precise.”

  “A dark what? What the hell am I supposed to type into this box thingy?”

  “I’m guessing that the password is ‘Doppelgänger,’” said Daniel. He typed the word in and hit SUBMIT. They waited for something to happen. It took several seconds, but the screen finally changed and a video slowly loaded. It automatically began to play, Fumi’s face appearing on the screen. He was wearing a white satin robe and reclining casually on a comfortable chair. The recording was directed to Pops.

  Hello, Bradley. Since you’re seeing this message, some ill fate has likely befallen me. I hope my death was a good one. If not, please be sure to tell anyone who cares that it was a gorgeous demise. I know you remember how to lie.

  I apologize for not being able to tell you this in person. It would have been wonderful to see your expression. You see, the guild is in peril and it needs one of its most famous sons back. That’s right, Bradley, we feel only you can make things right again.

  I’ll give you a moment to allow the shock to wear off. Better now? Anyway, I was supposed to appeal to you to assist us personally, but I apparently failed to convince you, or something didn’t allow that to happen. Perhaps it was my death at such a young age. In either case, you’re needed, my old friend.

  You see, the guild is very sick. A darkness has grown from within her and threatens everything we, and the fore-families, have ever stood for. It’s probably been festering for some time, but within the last few years has begun to manifest itself more openly and aggressively.

  A powerful faction feels it’s time to be more than the silent mediators we’ve been for decades. They believe that only through more aggressive means can human beings be given a reason not to make themselves extinct.

  On the surface, that may not sound like such a bad thing, except the reality is more frightening. If you haven’t figured it out, allow me to enlighten you. They want Project Dream Stream, and they’ll do whatever they must to get it. That, unfortunately, means removing any obstacle in their way.

  You, like me, are an obstacle. If you’re still alive to see this, it means my message isn’t too late. You must stop them, Bradley. If anyone obtains the secrets of Dream Stream, they’ll wield such power that there will never be balance in the world again.

  I’ve already put some things in motion that should assist you. Your part will be to stop any immediate threats to those secrets and then contact an old friend. You know to who I speak of.

  One more thing. Please tell Daniel that I’m very proud of him. He has exceeded my every expectation and brought honor to himself and his family. He will soon be rewarded for his services.

  Goodbye, my friend. I miss you already.

  The transmission ended just as Carson returned from the kitchen with spaghetti sauce on the corner of her mouth. “That stuff was meant to be fully cooked before eating it.” She grabbed Pops and hugged him. “What’s going on, Poppy?”

  “Trying to solve a mystery, baby girl,” Pops said.

  “We just watched a message from Daniel’s uncle Fumi,” Tripp said.

  “No way. He’s alive?” Carson asked.

  Daniel’s face fell and he wiped his eyes. “It was a recorded message. It pretty much confirms he’s gone.”

  Carson embraced her friend and held him for a moment while he gathered himself.

  Pops, too, needed a moment. He stared at the blank screen before deciding to hear the message again, in case there was some subtlety he needed to remember. “Play it again, Daniel.”

  Daniel tried but couldn’t get it to work. After fidgeting with it briefly, he turned to Pops. “I believe the message was meant to be seen only once and likely removed itself from the server that housed it.”

  “That sounds about right,” Pops said and then addressed all of them. “I was wrong to think you three weren’t ready for what lies ahead. Before you get too tickled by that, understand that our journey will be fraught with peril.”

  “We understand, Poppy,” said Carson.

  “I look forward to stopping my uncle’s killers,” Daniel said.

  Pops turned his attention to Tripp, who seemed deep in thought.

  “I accept the task of trying to keep those two alive,” he finally said.

  Pops switched the control center’s computers off and headed back toward the elevator. “Good. You’ll all accompany me back to Florida and we’ll get started.”

  THE LID REMOVED

  Pops was halfway to the elevator when he realized no one was following him. He stopped in his tracks and turned back toward the control center, more than a little irritated with the delay. He found his grandkids and Daniel still standing there—Carson, arms folded, in her typical defiant posture.

  Cursing, Pops wandered back to the raised area, climbed the steps, and stood a few feet from the group. “What?”

  “We have questions that need to be answered,” Carson said.

  “Not until we’re far away from this cursed place,” said Pops.

  “I love ya, Poppy, but I’m not going anywhere until I get what I came for.” She then gestured to the others. “And neither are they.”

  Pops vigorously rubbed his gray beard, then shook his head slowly. “Damn, you’re stubborn. What do ya wanna know?”
r />   Carson unfolded her arms and relaxed her posture. “Everything—but for starters, let’s talk about a missing diary page and Uncle Conner.”

  “I don’t know anything about a diary page,” said Pops.

  “Okay . . . why’s my uncle, who supposedly died long ago, sitting in a dark cavern above us?” Carson asked.

  Pops knew that one was coming. Right before he had landed, Kate warned him the lid on Pandora’s box had been loosened. “Oh, hell’s bells,” he said with gritted teeth. “Okay, ya lil’ shits, this isn’t my story to tell, but I’ll see what I can do. Let’s get this over with—gather ’round.”

  The others gathered in front of Pops as he found a seat on the top step of the platform. Daniel sat on the floor, Tripp knelt on one knee, and Carson paced. The cavern grew still, the distant trickle of water the only sound to be heard. Pops surveyed his audience before he began. The hunger for the truth was most noticeable in his granddaughter. This was hardly surprising.

  “First, this Uncle Conner crap is nothing more than a distraction,” said Pops.

  “I know what I saw, Poppy,” Carson said, quite sure of herself.

  “No, you don’t. There is no Uncle Conner. Let’s be clear about that,” Pops said and held up a hand before Carson could protest further. “Next, you need to understand the past before you can possibly grasp where we find ourselves today.”

  Pops waited for each one to nod that they understood.

  “Both my sons were in this very cavern about twenty-five years ago when the proverbial shit hit the fan. Conner had been invited, but Brad should never have even been here.”

  “How could a preacher even be involved in this?” Tripp asked.

  Pops was keenly aware it was a good question. “Because not everything is what it seems, Tripp. Now shut up and listen.”