by Bob Blink
With a last look at the tempting offering, he rolled carefully out of bed so as not to wake her. Heading for the shower he smiled at how well things were working out. In addition to a more than satisfactory love life, the quick-action team he and Joe had sought to assemble was now in place, and they had completed the training runs that he felt were needed prior to tackling the list of missions he had created. Today would be their final walk through, and tomorrow he would send his half of the team out. They had split the members into two functional teams of four men. Glenn was teamed with Mark, Bill, and Luke, while Joe was the leader for the team that included Kurt, and the newest members Steve and Pete. Glenn was especially pleased with Luke who he was considering making his team's backup leader. The man had a leader's mindset.
Glenn suspected he was nervous about the upcoming mission because it would be Joe and his team who were going rather than himself. It shouldn't matter, and while he'd considered bringing his team along in addition to Joe's squad because it was the first real mission since the test-run with Senator Burkland, he knew that wasn't a good idea. Eight of them were too many, and stealth was an important aspect in all of the coming removals. Joe had probably been right about the approach taken on the trial mission, but it had served its purpose well enough. If they could get in and out, and accomplish their goal without any of them being spotted, it would be best. He'd stay here, keeping an eye on the two engineers that Joe had continued to warn him against. Glenn had alerted Carol at the Resort to expect four travelers, and it was too late to be changing that part of the mission anyway.
They would soon be approaching others to augment their abilities here at the facility. Jessica had a lot of potentially useful contacts, but unfortunately Glenn knew better than to include her in their plans. He had never directly probed her about any feelings on the matter, but based on long knowledge of her reaction to events, this time around and during his last incarnation, he had a pretty good idea how she'd view their plan, and it wouldn't be in his favor. No, she made a superb bed partner, but as matters intensified, even that would have to be put aside.
Wrapped in his thoughts, Glenn stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, closing the door behind him, his mind focused inward, almost unaware where he was.
Jessica heard the door close and slowly opened her eyes. She'd sensed Glenn climbing out of the bed and had elected to feint sleep. Some of the doubts her friend Cindy had planted in her mind the day before had born fruit during the night. She didn't know if Glenn realized he talked in his sleep, mumbled actually. Jessica had known this from before, but she'd never tried to really listen to his mutterings, usually too spent from their extended lovemaking to care. But last night she'd made the effort.
Cindy had approached her after one of her coworkers had hinted that her new boyfriend, the recently imported engineer that rumors had circulated around for a time, was afraid of Director Walker. Cindy's coworker hadn't known why. Apparently the most she'd been able to get out of the man was his belief that Director Walker was up to something both worrisome and against the directives for the facility. Many long-timers here had been surprised to see a couple of outsiders brought into the facility. Glenn had been directly responsible for that, and a number of people had noted the pair of newcomers worked independently reporting directly to Walker, on whatever task it was he had assigned them to. No one seemed to know much about what they did, but the pair, at least the Indian Rao, seemed to have an unusual depth of knowledge for someone so new to the system.
It hadn't been just the concern raised by Cindy's coworker. Cindy's current boyfriend, a man named Ray Burke, worked in security. Much of the facility was monitored, but nothing more than the Operations Sector, where the Ring was located, and by coincidence, the Resort. Ray had noted offhand to Cindy a couple of weeks earlier that the Director had been making quite a number of multi-hour visits to the Resort of late, usually with several of the men that had become frequent companions; men who didn't seem a likely fit to have become such close buddies to the Facility's senior manager.
As a result of these suspicions, and Jessica's own observations that Glenn had seemed unnaturally tense of late, she'd paid close attention to Glenn's half garbled mumblings while he was falling asleep the night before. Most of what she heard was unintelligible, but she'd clearly detected him mention Joe Thomas and the word 'kill' in the same brief sentence. He'd also said something about it being time to initiate the 'raids', whatever that meant. But enough had been said that Jessica was convinced that something unusual was going on. She was anxious to meet with Cindy today and tell her what she'd overheard.
The problem was going to be how to learn anything more, especially without revealing their suspicions. Jessica was certain it wouldn't be wise to let Glenn become aware of their interest. She'd outlined in her mind who around Glenn might be able to help her understand what was going on, but the list wasn't encouraging.
None of the men he had taken in as part of his inner circle would be helpful, although watching them might reveal something, but at the moment she had no idea how to accomplish that. Maybe Cindy's boyfriend Ray might have some ideas, but they'd have to be careful he wouldn't feel obligated to alert Glenn. Carol at the Resort was known to be Glenn's friend, so while she would know what was going on there, speaking with her would almost certainly result in Glenn learning of their probing. The same might be said about Dr. Susan Ho at the Cloning Clinic. Several things Glenn had mentioned in the past couple of weeks made Jessica suspect that the woman was closer to Glenn than was apparent.
There was also Vicki Chang. From the rumors Jessica had overheard, and the sharp glances she'd been given by the sexy oriental, she believed Glenn and the woman had been bedmates off and on up until recently. Her moving in on Glenn had probably disrupted something there. Maybe the woman had seen or overheard something of interest, although why she would speak with her about such matters, and not use her questions to alert Glenn and reestablished herself with him, Jessica couldn't imagine. She and Cindy might have to put their heads together and figure out how to approach the woman.
That left only the two new engineers. They had to know more than almost anyone what the Director had brought them here for, and therefore were the most useful source of information. But would they reveal what they knew? From what Cindy had told her, the men hadn't even revealed to their current girlfriends what they were doing beyond an unease that had prompted awareness of the whole matter in the first place.
Maybe all this was nothing, but Jessica was now certain they would have to follow up, if for no other reason than to put the matter to rest so it didn't linger in the back of her mind. Her intuition warned her that Glenn had changed of late, and while her mental watchdog hadn't always been right, more often than not it had pointed her in the right direction. She hoped all this was over reacting, but she couldn't rid herself of the uncomfortable feeling that it could well be important. The few words she'd picked up the night before were burned into her mind, and she'd never be fully comfortable with Glenn until she understood their origins.
Chapter 6
Los Angeles
October
Los Angeles Times reporter Don Russell smiled at the headline. His story on local political corruption had won the top spot for today's edition. The electronic holopaper, complete with imbedded video and reader interactive articles would be released to the News Company's subscribers over WorldNet in another hour, but he was able to have a final look at the finished product in advance of the official release. Mentally projected to appear at just the proper distance in front of his eyes by the optical tap created via the close fitting neckband that served as his link to the world around him, Don was able to quickly peruse key sections of his article and confirm that it flowed just as he hoped. News articles in the electronic edition could be formatted to user preference for presentation, but he was somewhat old fashioned despite being only thirty-eight, and liked the material formatted to appear like the newspapers hi
s grandfather had once printed for this very news service.
As he finished reviewing his work for the last time, his eyes chanced upon an article that originated a couple of hours earlier from their Washington, D.C. affiliate. Senator Moore had been found dead earlier in the day when he failed to appear for an important vote and two of his aides had gone in search of him. Heart attack, the article claimed. It had been a rough couple of months for Washington's lawmakers, Don mused. This was the third Senator the country had lost in the past four months.
He glanced at the date time stamped into the article. October 3, 2083. It had been less than a month since Senator Fisher had been killed in a plane crash while he was flying back to DC from his home state of Wyoming. Heart attacks still were a major cause of death despite all the medical advances that had been made in recent years, but plane crashes were rare, and Don had been uneasy about the incident, especially in light of the violent death of Senator Burkland a couple of months earlier which had never been adequately explained. The group of killers that had invaded Burkland's residence and killed both him and his security team had never been identified. The DC Police had placed a security hold on much of the information about the killing. Usually there was a leak of critical information, especially after this long, but Russell's best contacts in the Capital City hadn't been able to crack the security surrounding the incident. For a time he'd wondered if the police had botched the incident, and that was why they were keeping the details from being released, but with the death of Fisher, he'd began to wonder if something else might be at work. Now, another lawmaker had died. He would have to look up the actuarial data on the probabilities of this happening. He'd also made a mental note to check the committees the three men had served on, and search for anything that might have linked them together. He knew his editor didn't share his "conspiracy" theory, but he wouldn't rest easy unless he gave the matter at least partial attention. Besides, as an investigative reporter, he saw it his job to look for linkages that others might not see.
He couldn't picture how the deaths of the lawmakers might be related, but he couldn't help recalling that there had been a couple of unexplained deaths among California's elite in the past few months as well. Two wealthy industrialists had been killed within a couple of weeks of one another last month. One of the deaths had been the result of an unsolved home invasion, and the other from a simple street robbery. Big names with money had access to the best, and simply didn't die off in groups. Could the deaths in the West possibly be linked to what was happening in Washington? That seemed a reach even to Don.
He shook his head. People died all the time. Most of the time it was people one didn't know and couldn't identify with. The gangs, the drug users, victims of random muggings always occupied a portion of the news. He could check the Obits and find the names of people that he'd never heard of listed everyday. Don couldn't think of any reason he wanted to connect these events together, but something in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite drag out of the murky depths said the men had been linked in some important way. Frowning, he knew the answer wasn't going to come to him just now. It would be better to allow the concern to simmer, and perhaps his subconscious would ferret out the connection and push it to the surface where his conscious mind could grab hold of it. Meanwhile, he had things to do.
His "eyes" focused on the mental disconnect to the paper's file, and the image he'd been studying faded away. He triggered his shopping list, and then glanced at the time. It was early to be leaving the office, but he had an anniversary gift to buy. Amy wouldn't understand if he forgot again. He'd promised himself that he'd leave early once his article was released and complete his shopping today.
He stood and grabbed his coat from the rack next to his workspace. Tall, but starting to develop a gut, his light brown hair showing early signs of thinning, Don felt the pressures of too much work and what must be advancing age. The truth was, he was bored. His job, which once he'd believed to be the most exciting profession one could pursue, seemed unenlightening and almost pointless. The stories seemed to be the same month to month. He was also bored with life. He wondered if his marriage was going south, not that Amy had done or said anything he could point to that suggested as much. But, everyday seemed the same. He couldn't recall doing anything that he felt was original for a very long time.
His anniversary had once seemed particularly special. Now, he seemed barely able to even remember the date. He could recall, just barely actually, what they had given one another the previous year, but farther back than that was lost in the mists of time. It was too much effort to even think about. He thought his parents might have come from back East and spent the occasion with them two years ago, or was it three?
He focused on his list. Most of the items seemed trite, and he felt he must have bought them a hundred times before, although that was clearly impossible. He was considering booking a trip to Europe the following June. That would make a real surprise gift for Amy. They had talked several times of making the trip now that the kids were getting old enough to appreciate the sights, but somehow they never followed through on the idea.
The thoughts of visiting Europe made him think about the stories coming from the Continent these days. Mostly bland stuff. The Single State government across the Atlantic had stabilized almost a decade earlier, and with the Middle East now enjoying an economic boom, that part of the world was quiet as well. War had been unknown for at least a decade, and as a result America finally had very little in the way of a military presence outside its own borders. The size of the military had shrunk dramatically, which was good given the scandalous spending of the last administration that had nearly bankrupted the country. The current Administration was still conducting investigations into the projects that had consumed nearly a trillion dollars over a six-year period. It was generally agreed that if President Hull hadn't died, he would almost certainly have been facing prison time for the actions of his Administration.
Don stepped onto the elevator that would take him down to the underground transportation system. The chip implanted under his fingernail activated the lift that was restricted to employees. Official AirCars were allowed to operate within the cities if they held expensive licenses, and people mostly relied upon the extensive centralized Mag-Lev Tube System to take them where they needed to go. The Tube was the magnetic levitation train that connected every city in the United States and was the primary means of travel within the country. Faster, and far safer than air travel, there had never been an accident in the thirty-year history of its operation. It could bring someone coast to coast in less than an hour.
The cost of maintaining one's own vehicle was prohibitive, and rentals were more cost effective for the odd trip outside the city when desired. By the time he had reached the shopping center, he had forgotten about Europe, and focused on the more mundane gifts his list held for his wife. If he'd been asked about Europe, he probably would have wondered if maybe he didn't really wish to go.
Two hours later he rode back to the surface level at the Tube station next to his housing complex. His purchases would be delivered to his office the next day, all fully wrapped and ready for him to take home on the designated date. The sun was setting, and he shivered from the cold, and from something else he couldn't identify. He was certain his glancing at the sun had triggered the odd sensation, but couldn't imagine why. Shaking off the disconcerting feeling, he hurried down the street toward his apartment.
He wished there was a meaty story lurking in the background that he could focus on. Even his recent triumph that led to the report on corruption wouldn't hold back his doldrums for very long. The news of late had been far too tame, with nothing he found really challenging. He didn't realize he'd soon have cause to re-evaluate his wish.
Chapter 7
UCLA Campus
Dr. Tim Russell peered intently at the half dozen holographic screens that were arrayed in space around the large, comfortable desk that served as a work center in h
is UCLA office. He was trying to make sense of the patterns that were displayed, wondering if what he was starting to fear might actually be possible. A PhD in astronomy, he was one of the foremost scientists in his field. He seldom had the opportunity to spend his nights in one of the observatories any more, most of the data he obtained coming from various probes the scientific community had launched to either clear the atmosphere or to move closer to areas of interest. The past couple of years he had been intent on data coming from a half dozen of the nearly hundred specialized spacecraft placed in multiple orbits forming nearly spherical coverage at the outer edges of the solar system.
Almost ten years earlier he'd first spotted the indications of the unusual dust cloud that was approaching the solar system, coming from above the solar ecliptic and threatening to envelope all of the inner planets. The cloud was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It was quite small for an interstellar dust cloud, but then anything of the usual size would have been detected headed their way a very long time ago. No, this one was small astronomically speaking, and coming from a direction that had hid it from the watching telescopes of Earth until very recently. For a small cloud it was extremely atypical of what he'd have expected. Normally a cloud of this size, with the light absorbing and reflecting properties he appeared to be finding, would be dense and starting to coalesce into a star. As such it would be already quite warm, generating a great deal of internal heat. All indications were that this one wasn't doing anything of the sort. As a result, he had to assume it wasn't as dense as the absorption measurements suggested. An interstellar cloud with the observed properties simply shouldn't exist. Everything he knew about how the universe operated told him as much. It came down to how great was the extent of what he didn't know. As a scientist he knew that what was considered fact was always subject to revision when new information came to light. On the other hand, shouldn't and couldn't weren't the same thing. The universe had room for unusual events that didn't often repeat. This might just be one, which made it very interesting.