Breakthrough

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Breakthrough Page 10

by Michael C. Grumley


  “Hey!” Clay yelled and ran after him. He burst through the door and chased the stranger along the long catwalk, his feet banging the thick metal grate with every step.

  The stranger ran quickly to the stairs and half slid, half jumped to the level below. He bolted past the lounge and headed for the stern of the ship.

  “Stop him!” Clay yelled and cursed the fact that there was no one else outside. Most of the crew was inside helping the ship’s doctor tend to the rest of the passengers. Clay reached the end of the second level catwalk and turned the corner to find the observation deck empty. He crossed over to the port side and looked forward. Emerson was running down the other side toward him. Clay looked around again just in time to see the man sprint past behind him. He reached the railing of the deck above the stern’s platform and the dolphin’s makeshift tank. He looked around and then back at Clay. With Clay now just a few feet away, the stranger swung over the rail looking for something to land on but at the last moment the man’s sleeve caught a protruding bolt. The sudden change in motion caused his legs to pitch inward and his head and shoulders to turn out. He tried to correct his orientation as he fell but could not correct in time. He hit hard, head first, making a sickening crunch.

  Clay, followed by Emerson and now another crew member from the bridge, scrambled down the last flight of metal stairs and ran to the motionless figure. Clay put his fingers against the man’s neck and felt for a pulse. “He’s still alive.”

  Two more crewmen arrived. “Get the doc down here!” Emerson shouted. One of the officers ran back up the stairs. The remaining two knelt next to Clay and helped slowly turn the man on his back. They cut his clothes open looking for other obvious injuries.

  Clay and Emerson stood up and stepped back as the ship’s doctor came running down the stairs and started checking his vitals. After a few minutes, the doctor looked up at the crewman. “Get him on a stretcher gently and get him to medical!”

  Even against the rocking of the ship, Emerson’s crew managed to get the injured man up the stairs without losing him or the stretcher. Clay and Emerson watched as the men made it to the second deck and took him forward of the lounge to the medical area, located just below and back from the bridge.

  Emerson shook his head. “This day is getting stranger by the minute.” He started for the stairs when Clay reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “Before we head back,” he said reaching into his pocket, “take a look at this.” Clay pulled out a small silver object and showed it to the captain.

  “What is this?” Emerson took it and turned it over in his hand. It was a small, flat rectangular piece of metal about an inch thick.

  “I don’t know,” Clay replied. “But that is what he was holding up when we saw him through the window.”

  “Where did you get it?” Emerson asked.

  “It was in his pocket.”

  “Hmm…looks like a silver brick. Or maybe a digital camera, except there is nothing on it. No lens, no button, no anything.” He handed it back to Clay.

  Clay ran his fingers up and down the smooth sides. “Why would he be holding this up?”

  “No idea.”

  Clay frowned. “The funny thing is that when I saw him he looked like he was pointing it.”

  “Like a weapon?”

  “I doubt it,” Clay said. “Besides he wasn’t pointing it at us. He was pointing it at that kid Lee Kenwood and his monitor.”

  Clay was standing outside the door to the medical lab watching Doctor Kanna, the ship’s doctor, examine the man who lay unconscious on his table. They had run a check on his fingerprints which came up empty as did his identification and press credentials. They were not sure how he managed to get aboard with the others and assumed it was a mistake or some kind of forgery during check-in at the dock. After some questioning, they also found that none of the other journalists had any idea who he was.

  As the doctor examined the motionless figure, he spoke into a small microphone to record the details of his examination. The injury was significant, and they had already sent for an airlift to the nearest hospital. Clay was watching Kanna take an x-ray when Alison walked up behind him.

  “Any news?” she asked.

  Clay shook his head. “Not yet. He seems to be a bit of a mystery.”

  “I hear a helicopter is coming out to get him.”

  He nodded. “The doctor thinks it’s pretty bad.”

  After a long silence watching the doctor, she turned to Clay. “Listen…I wanted to thank you.”

  Clay turned away from the window. “For what?”

  “You shielded me from whatever he was doing.” She motioned to the figure on the table.

  “Oh,” Clay gave her a casual shrug. “It was nothing, just instinct.” He began to turn away when he noticed she was staring at him. “What?”

  Alison said nothing. Instead, she glared at him.

  Clay finally got the message and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  Alison relaxed. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Were you really just in this to find your probe?”

  He smiled again. “Yes.”

  “No hidden agenda?” she said with a skeptical tone.

  “Just the probe.”

  Alison nodded at that. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well in case you haven’t notice I’ve been kind of a bitch.”

  Clay laughed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Then you’re blind.”

  “Is this the bitchy side?” he asked motioning to their little exchange.

  “Oh shut up.” She said shaking her head.

  “Don’t worry about it. For what it’s worth I don’t blame you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I read up on you a little, on what the Navy did with your project in Central America.”

  “What?” she said. “You read my file?”

  Clay smirked. “File, what file? I ‘Googled’ you.”

  This time Alison laughed. “You found out about that from Google?”

  “You’d be surprised. A lot of times we use it instead of the Navy’s system.”

  Alison nodded her head while still grinning. “So…” she said holding out her hand. “No hard feelings?”

  Clay took her hand and gave it a gentle shake. “No hard feelings.” He glanced back at the doctor continuing his examination. “So how are Dirk and Sally doing?”

  “They’re fine. A little hungry but good.”

  Clay turned back to her. “I have to tell you Alison, I’ve seen some amazing things but what you’ve done with those dolphins is nothing short of earth shattering.”

  “Thanks,” she said with a shrug. “But it wasn’t all me.”

  “I know. But it was a lot you.” He looked seriously at her. “I think you’re about to change the world Alison Shaw.”

  Alison smiled. “I hope so.”

  Clay thought for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Is there anyone who would not…want you to succeed?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I mean do you have competitors, other teams maybe, working toward the same goal?”

  “Of course. There are several other teams. A few in the States and a couple in Europe. Why?”

  Clay looked back to the man unconscious on the other side of the glass. “That guy seemed awfully interested in what you three were doing upstairs.”

  Alison looked confused. “I thought that was the whole point of being on the ship in the first place, to cover this. I just assumed he was trying to sneak a shot of the screen, you know something to ‘up’ his story.”

  Clay turned back to Alison. “Then why would he run?”

  Alison gave him a perplexed look. The thought had not occurred to her. “I don’t know, maybe he thought he was going to
get in trouble for leaving the lounge or something. The conditions were getting awfully dangerous.”

  “Hmm,” Clay said to himself. “How much trouble would someone be in for that?”

  “Are you kidding? This is the Navy.” She gave him a sarcastic look. “You know the military! You guys are pretty obsessive about things.”

  “That’s true.” He nodded, still thinking to himself. He reached into his pocket and took out the small rectangular object he retrieved from the man’s clothing. “Do you have any idea what this is?”

  She looked at it. “A camera?”

  “That’s what I thought too.” He turned it over and showed her the various sides of it. “But there’s no lens or screen, or even lines for that matter.”

  Alison reached out and took it. She examined it closer and bobbed it up and down in her hand. “It’s not heavy though. If it was solid metal it would be heavy right?”

  “It depends on the metal, but yes, generally it would be much heavier.”

  “Then what is it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Clay said, as Alison dropped it back into his hand. “But if it’s not a camera, why would he be holding it up to the window?” He looked at Alison. “I was assuming he was trying to steal your information.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible, but researchers usually tend to be more collaborative than competitive. I mean don’t get me wrong, there are definitely people who try to keep their research quiet, but that’s usually in things like physics or electronics, something with commercial potential. When we keep things quiet, it’s just because we want to get a big jump on everyone else, not for material gain. Let’s put it this way, not a lot of people get rich over marine biology. Sure we can write a book and get tenure at some expensive college, but it’s not the kind of lifestyle that would cause you to keep things secret in hopes of becoming rich.”

  “Besides,” she continued, “the other groups working with dolphins have taken much different approaches. More manual and not as much technology involved. In fact two groups are not trying to communicate as much as measure kinetic and energy influences.”

  “So not much reason to be after your data,” Clay finished.

  “Not really.”

  Clay nodded, accepting her explanation. “You know there is something else I need to tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  Clay took a deep breath. “I don’t think I did you any favors upstairs when I asked if you had a security clearance.”

  “I thought you were joking,” she smiled. “Why would we have a security clearance?”

  “Well I suppose I was but after talking to Captain Emerson and my superiors, it was agreed that whatever we experienced back there has to be treated as a security matter.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well,” he continued. “It means that everyone on board, including your team, will need to be debriefed when we get back to port.”

  “Okay.” Alison seemed unconcerned. “How long does that take?”

  “It’s hard to say, maybe a couple hours each.” Clay said. “Remember, this is the military, we tend to be obsessive about things.”

  Alison was surprised. “A couple of hours each?!”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Well that’s not going to work. What are we going to do with Dirk and Sally? We just got them back into the tanks. We can’t keep them in there overnight while you guys are asking us questions under a bright light.”

  “Bright light?”

  “Well I don’t know how you do it!” she exclaimed.

  “Relax, they’ve agreed to let you get the dolphins home before they put the giant light on you. They will have to escort you back though.”

  “What do you mean agreed?”

  “It took a little convincing,” he admitted.

  “From who, you?”

  “The important thing is that you will have time to get Dirk and Sally settled first.”

  “Thank you.” Alison said with genuine sincerity. He was not turning out anything like she assumed.

  “Don’t thank me yet. The debriefing can be extensive.”

  Alison nodded and looked around the small room. She watched Doctor Kanna clip some x-rays up to a screen and turn the light on. He stepped back with his hand on his chin studying them.

  “I guess we’d better start getting things packed up,” she said. “Are you heading back upstairs?”

  Clay shook his head. “Not yet. I have some questions for the doctor.” He pulled the silver object back out of his pocket. “And I think I might borrow his x-ray machine.”

  “Okay,” Alison said. She paused and then quickly held out her hand. “It was nice working with you.”

  Clay smiled and shook it again. “The pleasure was mine.”

  With that, Alison turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Doctor Kanna was still looking at the x-rays when Clay entered. About the size of a large clinic, the room was filled with stainless steel instruments and furniture. A small bookshelf on the far wall was filled with a number of medical journals and textbooks. Kanna looked at him momentarily and then back to the display.

  “Dr. Kanna.” He said quietly.

  “Hello John.”

  “Any changes?” Clay asked.

  “Yes, but not for the better. His condition is deteriorating quickly. I hope the helicopter gets here soon. I’m worried there may not be enough time,” he motioned around the room, “and I don’t have the equipment to do much here.”

  Clay nodded. There were only a few wires on the patient monitoring his heart rate and blood pressure. Both of which looked unusually low, even with what little he knew about medicine.

  “It’s strange though,” Kanna went on, “the worst of it is the blow he took to the head, and I think the brain is swelling. But the rest of him appears relatively undamaged, yet his respiration, blood pressure, and most everything else is depressed. Even his heart beat looks to be irregular. Very odd and a little alarming.”

  Clay took a closer look at the man. “Could it all be a result of the brain trauma?”

  Kanna shrugged. “It’s possible. He also looks like he’s had some plastic surgery, which may indicate other health problems. We’ve got to get him to a trauma center where they can find out more.” He looked at the x-rays closer. “This is also weird.”

  “What’s that?” Clay stepped around the table and closer to the display which had over a dozen pictures on it.

  Kanna pointed to one on the left. “He’s missing a large area of bone around the right side of his rib cage.” He pointed to another. “And here he has a strange shape to his femurs. He may have a birth defect or some kind of deficiency. I wonder if it’s given him a weaker bone structure which might explain why his injury is as severe as it-”

  The doctor was interrupted by a piercing alarm. The monitor showed the man’s heart beat slowing dramatically. A moment later a second alarm sounded and the graph showed the blood pressure dropping. Kanna quickly checked the monitor and the sensors strapped to the patient’s chest and arm. “We’re losing him! Where is that damn chopper!”

  Suddenly the monitor’s display became a solid green and went black with a loud pop. Overhead the fluorescent lights burst and the room went dark with only small rays of sunlight seeping in around the window blinds. A strange blue sheen passed over the room’s stainless steel table and shelves, and the air became warm. Behind Clay, a small white circle appeared in the middle of the room and slowly grew in size. As it reached a circumference of almost two feet the ring began to stretch vertically into an oval. The room began to glow. Clay and Kanna whipped around in time to see the oval reach full length and touch the floor.

  The pitch black center of the oval suddenly became a blinding white light, forcing Clay and Kanna to shield their eyes. After a few moments, the light subsided to a soft glow and turned dark. The table holding the patient began to vibrate and some of Kanna’s tools ratt
led to the side and fell off on to the floor. The patient’s table slowly started to slide toward the light. Kanna instinctively grabbed the table trying to stop the slide but was pulled forward along with the table. It was not until one of the legs stopped against a lip in the floor that it stopped. The pull continued causing the table to shake harder but the leg remained stuck. Kanna let go of the table and grabbed the unconscious patient as the shaking caused his body to vibrate toward the edge. In the next instant the shaking stopped and everything fell silent. After several seconds, the stunned doctor opened his eyes wide as a figure appeared and stepped out from the large oval. He was dressed in light clothing and looked only briefly at the doctor as he gently lifted the end of the table over the lip and began pulling it toward the light himself. He stopped only when he heard the loud slide action of John Clay’s semi-automatic pistol being chambered.

  The figure turned around to find Clay’s gun just inches from his head. “What in the hell did you just do?” Clay said.

  The man did not move. Instead he looked down at the patient still on the table. He was no longer breathing.

  There was not the slightest waver in Clay’s gun as his finger moved onto the trigger. “Who are you?” He motioned to the light. “And how did you do that?!”

  The man remained silent. He looked at the light and then back at the patient as if deciding something. When he spoke it seemed reluctant. “Please, he is dying.”

  Clay momentarily glanced down at the unconscious figure on the table and back to the person before him. “Answer my questions.”

  “There is no time. I have only minutes to save him.”

  Clay brought his other hand up and wrapped it around the bottom of the gun strengthening his grip. “Who are you?”

  The man before Clay looked at the light again emanating from the middle of the room. “Let me save him and I will answer your questions.”

  Clay shook his head slowly.

 

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