Ever-Life the Two Book Set: The C.P.T Incident and Time Trust

by Andrew Sarkady

  “Do you know what I’ve done for that ‘son of a bitch’, Jack? I should have fixed him six months ago. He’s the one who came to me, after his precious friends deserted him…Christ! It was that irresistible letter that started it all:

  Dear Marion,

  Thank you for your recent support with regard to our latest acquisition of the Dunns programming software. It will allow us to control and read the viral stimuli variations within the quarantined floors.

  Additionally, if you would consent, I would like to meet with you on a private personal matter. It is of great importance to me-to us, I believe.

  Sincerely,

  Jack Sheldon

  Chief of Research and Development

  Brock/Swanson Bio-Lab

  “Jack was the first bastard employed at the Complex to see my home. Bet you didn’t know that… For years, I kept faithful to my code. But smooth talking Jack, he was right about every issue, he ever wrote about, to me. I remember thinking, what could his letter mean? The big three; Shit! Visionaries of tomorrow…They sucked me dry, with researching the common cold, Alzheimer’s, Down Syndrome, and now this…Look at me, shit!”

  Brock was raging red, staring at the guard.

  “Within two years of knowing me, they were negotiating, on their own, with the pentagon, Israel and China; funding new money, making new theories. They all needed me, in the first place, to finish this Complex. I was there for them, no one else. My help allowed them to become famous; and that son-of-a-bitch, Jack; he changed everything. How could I resist making that first farking phone call?”

  Marion remembered every word…

  “Hello Jack?”

  “Yes; Marion?”

  “Yes; yes; how are you?

  “Fine, Marion; thanks for calling.

  “Well, I know I’m somewhat of a recluse. It seems we only see each other, when I’m awarding you monies at some conference. Jack, I got your note. Yes, I would love to meet. When would you like to come over?”

  “Fantastic, great; I’d like to see you at your earliest convenience; if possible, today or tomorrow…?”

  “That’s fine; as a matter of fact, I am home now. It’s 4:30 p.m. If you would like to come over, I’d be glad to see you.”

  “I’m at home too. I can be there at say six-o’clock; how’s that?”

  “Good, I’ll see you then.”

  So; at six o’clock sharp, Jack arrived and pushed the security buzzer to the penthouse entrance, outside the Fargo building. A guard answered. Jack gave his name and the door opened. Jack took the elevator to the penthouse; and, his knock on Brock’s door began it all.

  “Hello Jack,” Marion said with a smile. “Come on in.”

  “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

  Jack shook his hand.

  “It’s fine; can I get you a drink?”

  “Sure; thanks.”

  “Something special, I think; Champagne.”

  Brock opened one of his many bottles and filled two tall crystal glasses.

  “Here; now sit. Tell me; what I can do for you?”

  They had a sip; and then, Jack told Brock everything about CPT and the meeting with Swanson.

  “Jack, I am rarely at a loss, but this is beyond my understanding. As for me, I can offer my money and resources. What do you need?”

  “I need this special equipment.”

  He handed Brock the proposal that he gave to Bellos.

  “I also need a location to work and trusted assistance.”

  Marion sat and reviewed the 20-page proposal.

  “You also need patent rights, copy rights, international protection; not to mention personal security, and transportation; things only money can buy. Jack, I’m yours; but, only on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why, that we are partners in this, Jack…With my money and resources, along with your brains and medical know how; why, it’s a win, win, guaranteed. Here’s my hand on it.”

  Jack took Brock at his word, and they shook hands with wide smiles.

  Well, that was months ago. Now, Brock stood in a silent rage, waiting for the guard and the elevator to take him to God knows where.

  “Mr. Brock…Mr. Brock,” the ops guard said, breaking Brock’s concentration. “We’re here Sir. Please follow me.”

  The two men stepped off the elevator into the hallway on the sixth floor below the hospital. The guard led him to a small room and opened the door. It was quite pleasant, with a comfortable couch, chair and two tables.

  “Please Sir; if you would be kind enough; wait in here. We can clear this up very soon, I’m sure.”

  “Well, all you had to do was ask, Sonny. I’m at your beck and call; like I have a choice”

  As the guard began closing the door, he heard, “You are fired, you know; you dipshit!”

  Even though Brock heard the click of the lock, he grabbed the knob and tried to yank the door open.

  “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Then, he took his phone out and dialed InVoy; no reception.

  “Damn it! Where the hell am I?”

  Chapter 16

  The Morgue

  Dr. Rachel Sheldon and Nurse Angela Esposito arrived at Andrews Hospital emergency room entrance, again, around 4:45 a.m. The emergency staff had been too busy to notice them; so, they both easily walked past reception.

  “Angie, follow me now…The elevator…Here; inside.”

  Rachel pushed two on the panel.

  “I know Frank Bloom. He stayed last night, if Jack died; so maybe he’ll give us some concrete answers. Let’s hope so.”

  They both stood patiently. The elevator door opened; and the sign in front of them read:

  ANDREWS HOSPITAL MORTICIAN 

  Angie followed Rachel, as she walked to the right, twenty-five feet, or so, past a wide window that overlooked the beautiful atrium. They pushed the glass double doors open, revealing the department’s main area. In the middle of the room, there were four examining tables, and on the other side, in a corner, working on something, sat a man, looking into a microscope.

  “Excuse me; excuse me! Frank, is that you; Frank?”

  The white haired elderly man looked up and turned around. He was obviously in quite good shape, while well into his seventies.

  “Frank? No, Ma’am; Frank works in research lab-23, now; different building.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Rachel seemed to wither a little.

  “You look like I just kicked you in the belly. Perhaps I can help. I am Richard Bellos. The Mortician here, extraordinaire; okay, it is a bit late for that. What can I do for you two?”

  Rachel looked at him with great surprise.

  “Bellos? Are you related to Matt?”

  “Of course; Iam his father. I’ve known of you for a long time.”

  “But; I always thought you passed away. I mean, I’m sorry; it’s just a shock.”

  “I expect so; nevertheless, I am here in the flesh.”

  He held out his arms, and she instinctively hugged him.

  “Jesus, why would Matt let us think you were dead?”

  Rachel held on tight; her eyes began tearing.

  “It’s just…Jack, you know?”

  “I know. It’ll be fine. Let it out. Come; sit here.”

  He walked them to a cushioned bench a few feet away.

  “It’s been just a horrible night. I’m at my wits end.”

  Rachel sobbed; and Angie took her hand. Dr. Richard stood before them and spoke reverently.

  “My deepest apologies and respects, about your husband, my dear; they keep me pretty cooped up and busy here. But, I am so sorry for your horrible evening.”

  “Thank you. I am here to see his body.” Rachel began to shake. “I need to see him.”

  “I understand,” said Richard. “You have nothing to fear. Try to stay calm. Believe me; I will show you nothing to be afraid of. Please, come with me.”

  Richard helped
her up; and then, he turned, leading them through the doors on the opposite side of the room, which led into one of the main vault areas.

  “Now I assume, ladies, that neither of you frequent this atmosphere much; so, I will tell you things have changed radically, throughout the industry; and, in particular, here at Andrews. For one thing, I hope you noticed, there is no peculiar fragrance or nauseating odor...”

  The two women sniffed the air.

  “…For another; we lay our guests in bedlike comfort, to assure best in case potential. By that, I mean we address any question, about anything, at the bed. Let me show you.”

  He walked the two over to the wall, pulled the latch and a mahogany twin bed-like casket slid out like a drawer.

  “She was a small girl, who had been rushed here to Andrews, with an immune reaction to asthma. She expired two days ago.”

  “My God,” Rachel gasped. “She looks like she is asleep. Her color; she looks so alive. I had no idea. Do all the departed look like this, now?”

  “Most, yes; unless it is a special circumstance.”

  “You mean, like Jack?”

  “Yes; I am afraid so. I can show you something.”

  Rachel looked at Angie and the book, she was holding. Then, she nodded, determined to see.

  “Yes please; I have to see.”

  “Well, follow me.”

  He walked into a dimly lit room that, somehow, radiated a pleasant warm feeling.

  “I don’t ever remember being in here,” Rachel said.

  “Well, I like to think that is, because I redesigned it all. This way; over here”

  The two women followed him to the far corner, about 35-feet away. There were four beautifully decorated 36-inches by 24-inches drawers on the wall.

  “Pardon me, Mr. Bellos; but this looks more like a mausoleum, than a morgue room.”

  “It is neither, Mrs. Sheldon. Oh wait, I forgot.”

  Richard brought two cushioned chairs, and placed them in front of one drawer.

  “What is that?”

  Rachel said pointing to the icon on one drawer.

  “Very good, Mrs. Sheldon; you certainly can spot the unusual. It’s an old character, from a language long ago. Literally translated today, it means ‘money comes from God’.”

  “That is kind of odd, on a coffin door; don’t you think?” said Angie.

  “Yes, but the point is, you see; it’s not the meaning that is important, it is the shape.”

  Richard took out his Knofer and waived it across the symbol. The door opened, and a larger than normal coffin slid out, in front of the three. The casket was pearl white, almost perfectly oval and mildly glowing.

  “I don’t understand,” said Rachel. “What is this?”

  “Please. Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for you all evening. Now, we can begin.”

  Richard smiled, turned and waived his Knofer over the same icon on the center of the casket top. The entire top half of the oval changed to a transparent glasslike window, and the girls shocked back at what they saw.

  “My God, Jack; oh my God!”

  Rachel began to weep.

  “Please, my dear.”

  Richard held out his hand to her.

  “Look a little closer; come.”

  Both Rachel and Angie stepped forward; and the light inside the casket was perfect, enabling them to see every detail. There lay Jack Sheldon, wearing nothing but a faint smile.

  “This can’t be,” Angie said. “That’s not him. He is on focus ward in 309, broken and bloody. This man is perfect. He has no marks, no stitches.”

  “Actually, he was not broken or bloody at all, my dear.”

  “What are you saying?” Rachel snapped. Then she studied the body closer. “What are we looking at Dr. Bellos?”

  “Oh, this is Jack Sheldon all right, every cell. You can believe me. Please, will you two sit, just a moment? I have to tell you something.”

  The chairs were comfortable; but, the women sat rigid, staring at the coffin.

  “Angie; Rachel; there is much more going on that I want you to know, because, well; because we are family.”

  The women looked at each other.

  “What?”

  “Angie, my dear…”

  Richard knelt, in front of her, with his hands on the chair arms.

  “…I know what a night this has been for you; and it’s not over. But, I tell you the truth when I say; you are my grand-daughter.”

  Angie looked wide-eyed, as he smiled and extended his arms to her.

  “But, I don’t understand.”

  She put her hands to her mouth; and then, instinctively, leaned into Richard.

  “I know my dear, but it is true.”

  He started to cry too. Then, gathered himself together.

  “Angie; both of you, listen; pay attention; first things first, and then your questions; Angie, your father is going to be here soon; and, as this day begins, it’s going to be a new life for you, him, me, Rachel and Jack.”

  “My father; who is my father?” Angie gasped. “You mean Dr. B.; oh, my goodness!”

  “It is quite a story, but for another time. We are in a horrible rush. I realize this isn’t easy, but I have to expedite here.”

  “What about my husband, Jack?”

  “As I said, that is Jack all right. Angie, do you have the vial that Dr. Bellos told you to inject?”

  The two women looked at each other, and Rachel slowly nodded to her.

  “Yes, I have it here.”

  Angie reached into her pocket, withdrew it and handed it to Dr. Richard.

  “Thank you.”

  He then waived his Knofer over the icon on the casket. Rachel stood up, as the top of the coffin slid around and underneath the bed. Richard took a syringe out of his pocket, and filled it with the liquid in the vial. He turned to Rachel and spoke softly, “You know my dear; it was your calculations over the early years that were the motivation, the stepping stone to Jack’s putting it all together. Without you, this would not be possible. Remember that.”

  Richard leaned over Jack’s head, with his back to the two women, for just a few minutes.

  “Now we wait,” he said.

  Then Richard reached over and pushed a small button on the wall, to the left of the coffin. A 10-inch by10-inch door opened, revealing a filled wineglass, which he took out.

  Rachel stared at Jack’s body in disbelief. She thought she saw his right hand quiver. She gasped and looked at Angie.

  “My God; his eye twitched; he is blinking.”

  She caressed his face and leaned into him. The first thing he saw was her smile.

  “Rach?”

  He smiled too; and they held hands.

  “Hi.”

  With tears of happiness flowing. Rachel kissed him.

  “My God; thank heaven; Jack, my darling.”

  “Please, you two…”

  Richard patted Rachel lightly.

  “I hate to interrupt; but Jack, you have to drink this.”

  He handed Rachel the wine glass and nodded. She took it, lifted Jack’s head and fed him the drink.

  “You two have very little time,” Richard whispered. “And you may want to pull that blanket over your husband…

  …Now Angie, will you come with me, for just a minute? We need to talk. Then, all of us need to move out of here.”

  “What is going on?” Jack asked, shaking. “Who are you?”

  Rachel put her finger to his lips.

  “You’ve done enough, for one day, Honey. We are going to do whatever the Doctor says. Now, be quiet and drink.”

  “Thank you.” said Richard.

  Just as he was about to begin, there was a bang; then two, three, coming from the outer rooms of the morgue. Richard ran to the door; but, by that time, it was too late. He had just enough time to turn and yell back at Angie, “Get to the closet, Angie, hurry! Get in there, now!”

  Richard felt the first bullet hit his leg. Angie screamed a
nd instinctively made it into the closet, the door slamming behind her. The gunshots were so loud that Jack jumped up and out of the casket, naked. It all happened so quickly. Rachel saw the next two bullets explode from Richard’s torso and into the walls. She screamed as Jack reached to help Richard. But, he too stepped into an array of gunfire. He turned to Rachel, just as the men entered the room. There were loud sparks everywhere.

  “Rachel!” Jack yelled, as he fell.

  They had no mercy, pulling the triggers again, and again; spitting bullets into Richard, Jack; and then, they turned to Rachel. One black hooded man yelled, “Fuck you, fuck him, fuck all you assholes.”

  Rachel stood in terror. The last thing she heard were the shots of the automatic machine-guns, as she felt the bullets go through her chest. She fell down; her eyes in a glassy glaze; her mouth spitting blood, as she reached for Jack. Smoke and silence filled the morgue. Three bodies lay limp, with pools of red, spilling all over the floor. The gunmen looked; saw the vial under the casket and the manuscript that Angie dropped. One of them picked up the two; and then, they all left, out the Atrium window, onto ropes that took them up into the morning sky.

  Barb Sawyer heard the commotion and ran into the room. Rachel, Jack and Richard lay soaked in blood. She screamed and ran to the nurse’s station; but, before she could get to a phone, she literally ran into Dr. Mathew Bellos.

  “Barb, what is all the noise?”

  She was hysterical, shaking.

  “My God!” She pointed. “There; in there; they are all dead!”

  Bellos let her go and ran down the hall into the bloody scene. He stood, stunned at the horror.

  “Dad; no! My God; Rachel?”

  All three were riddled with bullets. Bellos ran to his father.

  “BARB SAWYER!” he yelled. “BARB, COME HERE!”

  In seconds, Sawyer appeared again with a crash cart.

  “Help me! Take his feet. We have to get him in the casket over there. Hurry!”

  Within a minute, they managed to lift Richard up and into the coffin bed. Bellos took his Knofer, waved it over the casket lid; and the bed slid back into the wall. Dr. B. looked down at Rachel; and then, up at Barb. He spoke quickly and succinctly into his Knofer, “Team red to floor two, Andrews morgue, immediately! Set up Unit-4 for gunshot victims. Notify Dr. Lu; two for ‘tran-stosis’.”