“That may be so Doctor Becker but I have heard that he has had a dubious past.”
“Mmm if you are referring to his role in the Great War then I assure you that he has more than made up for any past transgressions.
He lost his entire family you know. That would definitely cause anyone to re-evaluate their life. I wouldn’t worry about Doctor Oppenheimer, I trust him.”
Michael still wasn’t convinced; he had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He shook it off and pointed at the container of exotic matter.
“I have been tossing around an idea. I believe there might be another way to create a working Traverser with less matter.”
Michael could see the confused look on Doctor Becker’s face.
“I don’t understand. I thought you were the one who was ranting and raving about stepping up production. Do we or don’t we need to create more exotic matter?”
“I didn’t want to mention it in Oppenheimer’s presence. I didn’t want to distract him from producing more exotic matter. The theory I have been working on is a bit of a long shot.”
“Ok you piqued my interest, let’s hear it.”
“What if we can boost the effectiveness of the matter?” Michael said as smiled and gently tapped the side of the containment chamber.
“How is that possible? Given the mass, the energy of the existing matter is finite. You cannot create energy from nothing.”
“So, Einstein suggested, but when I was communicating with Justen, I definitely felt a boost.
I believe that if I can harness the collective power of both my thoughts and Justen’s we could combine to stabilise the event horizon enough to allow protected matter to pass.”
“What you are suggesting is absurd. I understand that you possess considerable strengths but how could a six year old boy be able to accomplish such a feat?”
“Perhaps if Justen was a normal six year old boy then it would be impossible, however I have a feeling that Justen has vast amounts of untapped energy.
I believe that I could help him focus that energy enough to cause the molecules within the event horizon to spin and reinforce the wormhole with latent dark energy.”
Michael could see the Doctor’s eyes light up at his suggestion.
“You’re talking about quantum physics, quantum entanglement in fact! I think you’re delusional Michael. This is all theoretical.”
“Yes, you are correct. But think about it Doctor, wasn’t the Traverser concept theoretical? You are forgetting that I have alien DNA within me and so does my son.”
“What about the effect on the dark matter? What you are suggesting could disrupt the very fabric of space. Wormholes by their very nature are unpredictable. The slightest miscalculation could cause it to collapse. If that were to happen, anything within it would be destroyed.
It’s also possible that it could become so unstable it could destroy the whole planet and possibly consume the entire Solar System.
Are you sure you want to take that risk? Wouldn’t it be safer to wait until we have more exotic matter?”
Michael was just about to respond to the Doctor’s questions when he saw him tap the side of his head. He waited as the Doctor took a call on his neural net.
The Doctor nodded at him and indicated that he should tap in on the call. He heard the Doctor’s voice in his mind.
“Michael, I am receiving a report from one of our outside operatives. Go ahead Jonas.”
“Doctor Becker, I have had Mundus Nova under observation for the past three days. They have lost four hundred to JPDL, there are several thousand only days away from expiration.
The word is that one of the four hundred was the President’s top advisor. The President has ordered MN to increase the output of their harvest. What are your orders?”
“I want you to continue your observation and report back to me in twenty four hours. We are working on a solution. Do you understand?”
“Ok Doc, you’re the boss. I will get back to you. Jonas out.”
Michael could see the grim look on the Doctor’s face as they severed the neural connection. He could see the Doctor was weighing a heavy decision.
He watched as the Doctor leant on one of the Lab benches and slowly strummed his fingers on the bench.
After several moments of silence the Doctor stood erect and exhaled a long breath before uttering the words Michael was waiting to hear.
“It looks like we have no choice!
Go ahead Michael, and whilst you are talking to Justen, ask him to have a word to those invisible Gods of theirs.
We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Thirty Three
Baxter swore under his breath as he entered the ward where he had last seen Sylvan Peters. The room was deserted.
In one sense he was relieved that she had carried out his request and had helped to save the other victims. Unfortunately he realised that it did not look good for him in the eyes of the man holding the gun to his back.
“Well Mister Special Agent, I don’t see the boy’s mama. I’m beginning to think that maybe you is lying to old Joe. That’s not a smart move.”
Baxter moved to the bed where he had freed Sylvan and gently placed the still unconscious body of Justen down on it.
He turned to face Joe. He could see that the old man looked angry.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to still the relentless pounding. He was beginning to feel very tired.
He decided that he should give up trying to convince the old man of his identity and try to appeal to his rational side.
“Look Joe, I know this doesn’t look good but let’s just think about this for a minute.
The last time I saw Sylvan, the boy’s mama, I told her to get the hell out of this place and take as many of the others with her. I’m glad she is not here; it means that she has escaped.
I suggest we follow her and get the hell out of here as soon as possible. It’s only a matter of time before more of these people turn up and we end up back under some psycho Doctor’s knife.”
“What about the other FBI folk you said were coming Mister Special Agent? Where are they, or were you lying to Joe about that as well?” Joe shouted angrily at Baxter as he waved the gun around.
Baxter reacted angrily as a burst of adrenalin shot through him and he moved towards the old man.
“Listen you old fool, keep your voice down or you’ll have everyone in the hospital in here. Believe me there are some pretty nasty psychopaths in this hell house.
“Even with the help of the rest of my team we are going to have our work cut out for us if we are going to get out of here alive. You had better give me that gun before one of us gets hurt.” Baxter said as he held out his hand.
He could see the confusion wash over the old man’s face, he could see that he was thinking about what he had just said.
He watched as the old man seemed to strengthen his resolve and moved the gun level with Baxter’s head.
“I don’t hear no sirens or nuthin’. I don’t think you have a team mister. You think I’m just a feeble old black guy. You think I’m just another homeless loser, another nobody that nobody gives a shit about. Even if you was tellin’ the truth, why would the FBI care about a few homeless losers being butchered.”
“You’re wrong Joe. I don’t think you are loser. I know that you used to be Special Forces. I know you can handle yourself. You have to be strong to survive on the streets.”
“What the hell do you know about the streets? You don’t know whatcha talking about.”
Baxter could see the anguish on the old man’s face. He softened his voice slightly and he sat back on the bed and stroked Justen’s hair.
He suddenly felt emotional; it was a state that felt alien to him. He wondered whether the tumour was starting to affect his mind.
He dismissed the thought and spoke from the heart as he thought of how he felt sitting in that cold dark alley.
“That used to
be true Joe. I had no idea what it was like. I slept in a nice bed every night, I had plenty to eat and drink. I didn’t spare a thought for the millions of people who struggle to survive every night. But that doesn’t mean that I would stand by and do nothing while innocent people are being kidnapped and murdered.
You forget that I was one of those kidnapped. I was drugged and thrown into a van. I couldn’t do anything; I just laid there while those arseholes joked about Gummy being dead, I…”
“Gummy’s dead? You knew Gummy? You were with him when he passed?”
Baxter heard the distress in the old man’s voice; he could see that the old man that he had shared his hip flask with, must have been Joe’s friend.
He watched as Joe lowered his gun and then moved to sit on the end of the bed. His head was lowered and he suddenly looked very old.
“Yes Joe, I was with him. I shared my whiskey with him. He let me share his sleeping space. He was the one that told me that he saw you and Justen being taken by the ‘Reapers’ as he called them.”
Baxter slowly put his arm up and softly patted Joe’s back as he spoke.
“Listen Joe, you were right, I don’t have a team coming, I’m afraid it’s just you and I. How about we get the hell out of here, find Justen’s Mother, and then get some muscle in and shut this place down.
What do you think? Don’t you think we owe it to Gummy and the rest of the homeless?”
Baxter could see that he had finally made some progress with the old man as he watched him nod in agreement. The old man then stood up from the bed and handed the gun to Baxter.
“Here, you hold this. I’ll carry the boy for awhile. You look kinda tired.”
Baxter took the gun; he was relieved to feel the weight in his hand.
He watched as Joe moved to where Justen was lying. He could see the bicep muscles of the old man strain as he easily lifted Justen from the bed and start walking towards the door.
Baxter stood and moved past him. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and gestured towards the door.
“I’ll go first and check to make sure the corridor is clear, just wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.
Using a sweeping motion, Baxter silently crept up the corridor. He peered into each of the small windows in the wardroom doors.
He was unable to detect any movement. He spotted a security camera and quickly smashed it with the butt of the gun.
Once he was satisfied that they were safe to proceed, he made his way back to the room where he had left Joe and Justen. He could see that Justen was beginning to awaken from the sedative. He nodded towards Joe.
“He looks like he is starting to wake up, do you want to put him down and see if he can walk on his own?” Baxter asked as he felt for Justen’s pulse.
Joe shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll carry ’im for a ways until he gets his strength back.
Come on; let’s get the hell out of this dump.”
Thirty Four
On several occasions during his journey through the hospital corridors, Stringer had stopped to resynchronise his neural net to the hospital’s security camera network.
His TDI freqlock was causing unexpected repercussions. He was beginning to get glitches. He had already missed several minutes of valuable surveillance. He swore under his breath as he moved purposefully towards his rendezvous with Sylvan Peters.
He had passed groups of doctors and interns who were returning after their false alarm mass exodus. He could tell that they were nervous as they tried to avoid eye contact with him.
He smiled when he realised what an imposing sight he would have presented as he strode purposefully down the corridor clutching his hunting knife in one hand and his titanium briefcase in the other.
As he passed an emergency exit door he was surprised by the voice behind him.
“Freeze, Mother Fucker!”
He stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around. He counted four security guards. They all had their service pistols out and were pointing them at him.
Obviously, the leader of the group was the one issuing the orders.
“Drop the knife and kick it over here and don’t try any funny business.”
Stringer glared at the lead guard, his rage intensifying with every second.
I don’t have time for this crap, he thought as he weighed his options.
He thought about his next move, he could have taken them all out. Unfortunately he was starting to have some reservations about trusting his neural net.
He wasn’t sure whether he would have the enhanced combat option available to him.
He decided to use the friendly approach.
“Look fellas, don’t you know who I am?”
He could tell by the confused looks on their faces that they were clueless. This came as no surprise to Stringer. Mundus Nova had gone to great lengths to recruit him.
He was known as a specialist and one of his greatest attributes was his ability to carry out his assignments with as much discretion as possible. He needed to prove to the guards that they were on the same side.
“I work for the same people you do. We’re on the same team –see,” he said as he slowly turned and pointed to the lump on the back of his neck where his TDI had been implanted.
The lead guard saw the lump but Stringer could tell that he still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced.
“Look mister, I don’t know who you are. That lump could be a mosquito bite for all we know. If you’re on our side, what is the code word for today?”
Stringer could tell that his friendly approach was not working.
“Fuck this arsehole, when I said we are on the same side I didn’t mean that I was some low life security scum bag like you bunch of pricks.
I’m giving you guys ten seconds to put those guns away or I’m going to shove them up your arse.”
Stringer could tell that his response had taken them by surprise. The lead guard however was starting to go red in the face and the grip on his weapon got tighter. His trigger finger started to exert a greater pressure.
Stringer’s mind started calculating trajectory and escape scenarios. He was just about to throw his knife and embed it into the lead guard’s eye when a voice from behind the group emerged.
“Wait a minute Charlie; I would do as he says if I were you.
Don’t you know who that guy is? His name is Eddy Stringer. He works for the big boys.”
Stringer could see the realisation dawn on the whole group and they quickly put their guns away.
The lead guard was hesitant however to follow the group and moved to the side and let the guard from behind step forward.
Stringer could tell that the lead guard was still not convinced. He could see the little bubbles of sweat appear on his forehead as he watched his comrade nervously put his hand out for Stringer to shake.
“I I I’m sorry Mr Stringer, I knew I recognised you. What are you doing here? Is there any way we can help?”
Stringer could see that he finally had the upper hand and suppressed his anger. He needed to pump these guys for Intel and he had to do it quickly, for all he knew the woman could have already escaped.
“You – I don’t have a lot of time to chat, just give me your sitrep, I’m looking for a woman and her son, Sylvan and Justen Peters. Have you seen them?” he said as he ignored the hand of the lead guard who had also offered the gesture and addressed the younger guard that had recognised him.
He watched as the younger guard nervously glanced at the lead guard who reluctantly nodded his head. The younger guard’s voice cracked slightly as he answered.
“Yes, certainly Mr Stringer I can give you a sitrep we do not know of any particular woman or kid. We have been pretty busy attending to a major security issue.”
“Ok! Go on”, Stringer said angrily.
The young guard swallowed heavily before continuing.
“At approximately 1000 hours we responded to a report that Dr Stenson had been murder
ed in operating theatre three. His throat had been slashed.
Our investigation revealed that subsequent to the Doctor’s murder an intern and security guard were neutralised.
Three wards of donors in Section C were also liberated. We were unable to apprehend the person or persons responsible. We don’t believe that it was one of the donors as they are secured and sedated on arrival.”
Stringer raised his eyebrows at these revelations. Just what I fucking need, a hero trying to save the day, he thought as he raged at the young guard.
“Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of security operation are you idiots running here?
Of course it’s one of the donors, who else could it be?”
“You’re the one carrying the knife. It could be you,” the lead guard said nervously.
Unfortunately, he was too slow to react to the flash of silver which opened up his throat.
He gurgled in astonishment as he instinctively clutched at his throat with both of his hands. He collapsed onto his knees and then fell forward onto his face. He was dead before he hit the ground.
The other three guards were stunned at the speed at which Stringer had silenced his detractor.
“Does anyone else have anything stupid to say – No one? Good.
Now – I want you three to get your arses back to your security office and go over the last two hours of camera footage and report back to me if you find anything.
“Here, give me your radio and make sure you take this piece of shit with you,” Stringer said as he put his briefcase down and grabbed the radio and hand of the nearest guard in a vice like grip.
He smiled slightly as he put the radio into his pocket and then slowly wiped the gore covered knife on the guard’s sleeve.
“By the way, if I hear that any of you mentioned to anyone that I was here, you can expect me to come and pay you a visit, and remember this – I don’t always kill so quickly”, he said as he let the guard’s hand go and inspected the cleanliness of his knife.
He then picked up his briefcase, turned around and strode quickly up the corridor away from the traumatised group of security guards towards Section C.
The Immortal Harvest Page 22