The Hidden Truth: A Science Fiction Techno-Thriller

by Hans G. Schantz

  There wasn’t much empty space in the bathroom by the time we were done. Uncle Rob left to go to his trailer “for the benefit of anyone watching.” I waited for him in the living room. A couple of minutes later he popped up from under a sofa cushion. “Tunnel,” he explained.

  Then we crowded into the little bit of open space left in the bathroom. He closed the door, and he flicked the lights on and off a few times. The walls and counters appeared to start rising before I realized that the floor was actually sinking. We came to rest about a dozen feet down. The toilet was still attached to the floor, but the bathtub now dangled up above us, along with the counter and sink.

  “Does that toilet actually work?” I asked.

  “Yup,” he confirmed, proudly. “Flexible coupling.”

  We unloaded the boxes and Uncle Rob sent the bathroom back up on its hydraulic lift. The ingenious bathroom was the highlight of the refuge. The rest of the place was under construction and clearly needed lots of work to complete the build out. Uncle Rob set me up with a cot in one of the unfinished cargo containers. My new room had steel walls and a plywood floor. It was spacious, but long and skinny – not a very efficient layout for a room.

  * * *

  Friday morning, I got up early and worked on my scholarship essays, and on applications for a few schools with later deadlines. Maybe I was a sure thing to get into whatever school I wanted, with a little bit of help from Uncle Larry. Best not to take any chances, though. I had excellent test scores, but many of the top universities claimed not to weight them very heavily. They used “holistic” admissions criteria designed to yield “better-rounded candidates” and a “more diverse student body.” Dad said admissions deans wouldn’t want to unfairly deny the academically unqualified, but financially well-off, future alums a shot at filling the tuition coffers. He could be awfully sarcastic sometimes.

  Uncle Rob gave me a tour of the refuge when he woke up. “Your mother will not want to share a bathroom with me,” he said with a smile, “so our priority will be to finish the second bathroom for you and your folks.” First, however, he had an errand he had to run. I’d been planning on hanging out with Amit this weekend, so Uncle Rob agreed to pass the word on to Amit that I’d be unavailable.

  I stayed in the refuge working on my essays. It was almost spooky being by myself. The refuge was absolutely silent except for the occasional sound of the ventilation running. I turned on my music to mask the eerie silence. Clack click clack click. Clack clack click clack. Clack click clack click. Clack clack click clack. The static burst through the music in an insistent, rhythmic staccato pattern out of time with my music. Must have been noise on the electrical system. I gave up and turned it off.

  Saturday, Rob and I worked on finishing the bathroom. I’d never done much plumbing, so it was interesting to see how it was done and to do some of it myself. Just after lunch, however, Rob’s ham radio burst out into Morse code. I still hadn’t learned Morse, but the real message lay in the time and the frequency. Uncle Rob checked against the code sheet. It was a message from Amit. “Imminent danger. Stay put. On the way.” Great. Now what?

  “Get ready to go,” Uncle Rob told me. He dashed out of the room.

  I grabbed my go-bag – a small duffle bag that Uncle Rob had insisted I have ready at all times. It had some essential outdoors gear, a change of clothes, some water, and a couple days of food. I heard the distinctive sound of a magazine being loaded into a pistol as I was lacing my hiking boots. He came back a minute later carrying the case for his AR-15 rifle and a black messenger bag. “Should I bring my pistol?” I asked.

  “Bring it topside, just in case. If you haven’t been directly implicated, though,” Uncle Rob explained, “that pistol will only get you into more trouble, if not killed. Your best bet if you run into those EVIL feds is to keep quiet and play dumb, not try to fight it out.

  “In any event, you’re not coming with me,” Uncle Rob insisted. “I promised your folks I’d keep you safe. You’ll either stay here, or if this place has been compromised, I might send you with Amit to hide out at his hotel or take you someplace else myself.”

  “Your folks are probably in danger, and I may have to go get them from Nashville, or arrange a safe place for them to hide out there, until I can bring them back here. Let’s see what Amit has to say.”

  We rode the bathroom elevator up to the barn. I followed Uncle Rob through the tunnel from the barn to the trailer where we waited for Amit. Uncle Rob didn’t want Amit or anyone else to know about the refuge unless absolutely necessary.

  Amit arrived. “Tolliver Library is sealed off. I passed by on my way here,” he explained. “The sheriff and the state troopers have a perimeter around it already. On the radio, they’re saying it’s a chemical spill of some kind.” He passed several sheets of paper to Uncle Rob and me.

  “The EVIL minions in Houston,” Amit explained. “They had a breakthrough, they’re heading this way, and they’re after your dad and Mr. Burleson.” He passed Uncle Rob and me his intercept.

  FLASH – CRITICAL REPORT:

  Sherman Nexus (Category V)

  Sherman, TN

  Summary: Category V Repeat Category V Nexus. Tolliver Library associated with supercritical outbreak of proscribed knowledge. We are securing Tolliver Library using local law enforcement. Technology Containment team dispatched to Tolliver Library, will arrive Sunday morning. Primary and Secondary Targets identified - vector between Xueshu Quan and Tolliver Library. Strike team dispatched to apprehend and interrogate targets.

  Details: Tolliver Library in Sherman, TN, contains multiple examples of proscribed knowledge. See attached list.

  “I got their book list, too.” Amit said quietly. “It’s incredible. The physics books are only the tip of the iceberg.” I continued reading. The report identified Mr. Burleson as the “Primary Target” and Dad as the “Secondary Target.”

  Primary Target purchased credit card associated with VOIP call to Xueshu Quan leak vector. Identification confirmed from sales clerk.

  “It was the VOIP call,” Amit explained. “That’s how they got us. They traced the phone number to the credit card Mr. Burleson bought and gave to your dad. He paid cash, but they traced the credit card to the store, and someone remembered Mr. Burleson.” Amit looked grim. “He must have been a regular customer.”

  IP address associated with Primary Target linked to online searches related to Heaviside suppression effort. Primary Target confirmed to be present in Houston at time of Xueshu Quan leak.

  “Dad was planning on meeting Mr. Burleson at some big trade show there in Houston,” I explained. “That’s why they think Mr. Burleson must be the one who got the list from Nicole.”

  It was my fault. I may have killed Dad and Mr. Burleson. Because I didn’t want to be rude to a girl, I inadvertently betrayed them both.

  Secondary Target is owner of private residence at which a Nexus was previously identified. Secondary Target is a business associate of Primary Target.

  Recommendations:

  Arrest and Interrogate Targets Immediately: the severity of the Nexus demands that the targets be arrested, interrogated, and terminated immediately to avoid any further risk or damage.

  Send Technology Containment Team to Tolliver Library: Library should be secured immediately by local authorities until our Technology Containment Team can arrive Sunday morning to secure the Tolliver Library collection and assess the extent of the potential leak of proscribed knowledge.

  “We have to warn Mom and Dad and Mr. Burleson,” I insisted.

  “If we do it directly,” Uncle Rob cautioned, “it will lead right back to us. Observe, orient, decide, and then act. Let’s finish with observing and orienting, then we’ll decide and act.”

  I looked over his shoulder as Rob scanned the list Amit had printed out of all the proscribed books from the Tolliver Library. It was nearly two pages long. A half dozen or so of the entries were the physics books with the anomalous edits Amit and I had
already found. But the rest were a diverse lot of books from a seemingly random and unconnected set of subjects – like Spring Heeled Jack: The Devil of Devonshire. Another was Suan Ming or the Art of Chinese Fortune Telling by Angus McGuffin. There was Mystery Airships of the Gilded Age, and A History of China from the Earliest Days to the Present by John Macgowan. What possible connection could there be between all these books and bouncing waves? Tip of the iceberg, indeed. Amit and I had spent half a year working on physics books and missed ninety-five percent or more of the secrets hidden in the library. It was about way more than just physics.

  Amit interrupted my train of thought. “EVIL got their panties in a wad about that “Xueshu Quan” list of physics books. This is easily twenty times more secrets,” he said, grappling with the enormity of it. “They’d go nuclear over this, if they realized we had their list.”

  “Not only do we have the list, we have all those books, right there in town,” Uncle Rob noted ruefully. “Only, the sheriff and the state troopers have them all locked up in the library behind a police barricade. We can’t get through. And tomorrow morning, EVIL’s going to grab all the secrets and make off with them.”

  “Maybe,” I said thoughtfully. “Maybe not.” I explained how the shop rats had shown me how to get into the steam tunnels under the campus, and how to avoid the alarms and sensors. “We went right past the library on one of our trips.”

  “You got in?” asked Uncle Rob, with a gleam in his eye.

  “No, but there’s a door labelled ‘Library Building.’ I didn’t try it. It’s probably locked, but if we got past the door, we’d be in the basement of the library. The first floor is likely where they’d have any motion sensors or security sensors. It’s just the circulations desk, periodicals, journals, and some reading rooms. We could go up the stairs from the basement to the second and third floors and scan all these books. If they aren’t going to be there until Sunday noon, we have plenty of time. We can get in on the far side of the quad behind the Physical Science Building. Even if they set up a perimeter, I bet that’s far enough away that we can get in unseen.”

  “I can get us through a locked door,” Rob assured us. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then gave us our orders. “Here’s what we’re going to do. First, I have to take care of getting your folks and Jim Burleson to safety. I’ll have to run off, and make some calls and arrangements on a burner phone.”

  “A what?” I asked.

  “A phone I purchased anonymously, so it can’t be traced back to me,” Uncle Rob explained. “You know where your scanner gear is in the barn?”

  He meant in the refuge. “Yes,” I said.

  He looked as though he were weighing a decision. “Run on over there,” he said, gesturing to the door. Ah! He didn’t want Amit to know about the tunnel or the refuge. “Get your book scanner gear together,” he directed me. “Amit, brew a pot of coffee and fill a thermos.” He reached into a cupboard and pulled out a thermos for Amit. “Bring extra batteries for the laptop and flashlights – there might not be power. You two meet me by the science building near the Tolliver Library in about an hour.” He looked at me again. “You’ll need to ride on the passenger floorboard again, I’m afraid. I don’t want anyone seeing you.” I nodded in agreement.

  “Plan A – we take our time, scan all the books on EVIL’s list and replace them, with none the wiser,” Uncle Rob explained. “It will be a late night, but we can be long gone before morning, with none the wiser. Plan B – if we don’t have time for Plan A, we grab the books and run. Saddle up, boys; we’re going on a raid.”

  Uncle Rob headed out the door and roared off in his truck. I left Amit brewing coffee in the trailer, grabbed the book scanner and my laptop from the refuge, and rejoined Amit in the trailer just as he was filling the thermos.

  We made sure we had everything we would need. In my backpack, I had a laptop, batteries, the book scanner, and the wireless motion sensor. In addition to Amit’s thermos of coffee, we filled a canteen of water, and gathered up some snacks. We were ready to pull an all-nighter to get the books all scanned before EVIL’s “Technology Containment Team” could sweep in tomorrow and collect them all.

  The science building was comfortably outside the perimeter the sheriff had set up. We met Uncle Rob parked around back of the science building. “Your folks are OK,” he reassured me. “They’ve got Kira with them, and they’re going to stay with a buddy of mine in Nashville. I’ll figure out how to get them back in a couple of days.” He paused, a cold, hard, look on his face. “But, Mr. Burleson is dead.”

  I froze. Amit and I took in the news. “How’d it happen?” I finally asked.

  “It was all over the news on the radio,” Uncle Rob explained. “’Cyber-terrorist shot while resisting arrest.’”

  “They just shot him?” Amit looked horrified. “I thought they wanted to interrogate him first.”

  “Tough to say,” Uncle Rob replied in a solemn, level voice. “Something like that goes down, adrenalin’s running high, the suspect twitches or dodges in surprise, and it’s interpreted as an attempt to draw a gun. Might never know exactly.” He shouldered his messenger bag. “One thing’s for sure – these books of yours better be worth the death toll they’re leaving in their wake.”

  “My folks, and Kira? Are they going…” I began.

  “They’re safe,” Uncle Rob assured me, “and if you want to keep the rest of us safe, you’ll need to stay focused on getting us in, getting the job done, and getting out.”

  The three of us walked over to a metal panel on the sidewalk. Uncle Rob casually surveyed our surroundings. “We’re clear,” he pronounced. “Go!”

  The shop rats had shown me how to construct a custom tool that grabbed on to the corner of the metal plate. The plates were supposed to be latched shut, but many of the access plates had latches – like this one – that were old and no longer worked properly. We’d used this particular entrance before, so I knew it was loose.

  I slid my tool under the corner, pulled it up, and grabbed the sharp corner with my gloved hand. I gently opened the hatch on the sidewalk and climbed down the ladder into the dark tunnel. Amit handed the backpacks down to me, then crawled down the ladder, followed by Uncle Rob. Uncle Rob carefully shut the hatch behind us with a muted clank.

  We switched on dim red LED lights to preserve our night vision, and we surveyed our surroundings. The low, distant hum of the ventilation gently pushed warm musty air past us. The ceiling of the concrete tunnel formed a familiar sidewalk on the surface. If you noticed the characteristic look of the steam tunnel sidewalks, it was easy to spot them from above ground. Many of the characteristic ventilation openings were disguised as brick benches alongside the sidewalk. The periodic metal access hatches in the middle of the sidewalks were dead giveaways. Once the shop rats had pointed it out to me, it was easy to see the pattern and the logic of the tunnel layout around campus. The tunnels converged at the steam plant, which sent steam coursing through the pipes and into radiators all over campus during the winter months. The tunnels also carried electrical, phone, and data lines throughout campus. One branch of the tunnel system next to the Administration Building had some kind of alarm sensor. If we blundered through the area, we’d set it off and have a couple of the sheriff’s deputies converging on us. We’d be avoiding that branch today.

  “Follow me,” I said softly. I led Uncle Rob and Amit slowly, quietly, through the tunnel. At each intersection, Uncle Rob took the lead and peered around the corner with a small mirror. Once he confirmed it was clear, he’d motion me to take the lead again. A few twists and turns and the equivalent of several blocks later, I guided Amit and Uncle Rob to a yellow door labelled “Tolliver Library,” secured by a deadbolt. Uncle Rob smiled. He snaked a fiber optic borescope under the door. “Room’s clear,” he pronounced. He pulled a string to bend the borescope back toward the door, and examined it carefully from the other side. “Sloppy,” was his verdict. “No sensors on the door. They’
re not worried about anyone getting in this way. I think I can open it without setting off any alarms. It’s looking like Plan A – we should have time to do the scanning and get everything back in place before EVIL arrives.

  “Your dad told me all about your book scanner skills,” Uncle Rob told us. “You guys gather up the books from EVIL’s list on the second floor, and then get the rest of the books from the third floor. Set up on the third floor to scan them. They’ll likely be coming up the elevators to check out the second floor first. Working on the third floor will give you the maximum time to escape. ” He handed me a radio. “If you hear two clicks, the bad guys are coming. Signal back with two clicks to let me know you got my message. Then get your stuff together and haul ass down the stairs to the basement. Take as many books as you can, particularly the unscanned ones, but don’t delay – take only what you can carry quickly. I’ll meet you here at the door to the steam tunnel. If you hear one click, all is well. Wait a minute and signal back with one click to let me know you are OK. I’m going to set up that wireless motion sensor, scout around the perimeter, and confirm we didn’t set off any alarms. The deputies are right outside, so if they come in, we won’t have much time. I also want to bypass the security system so we don’t inadvertently trigger an alarm. When I’m done, I’ll send you a single click on the radio, and I’ll come check in to see how you’re doing on the third floor.”

  Amit held a light in his gloved hand to illuminate the lock. Uncle Rob pulled out a set of fine picks and began to deftly manipulate the lock. I could read his progress and setbacks in his expressions as he dropped his poker face in complete concentration on his work. In just a couple of minutes, the deadbolt turned. “You really have to teach me how to do that,” Amit said, the awe evident in his voice.

  “Some other time,” Uncle Rob acknowledged with a grin. “For now, we have work to do.” He carefully examined the door to confirm no sensors were hiding in the frame. We were in. We navigated our way across an unfamiliar utility room. Emergency lights were on, so the sheriff and the state troopers must have disconnected the power because of the “chemical spill.” Uncle Rob opened a utility box and unplugged a battery. “The security system is disabled,” Uncle Rob said softly. “Everything looks clear. Plan A. Get going.”