The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1)

by Phillip William Sheppard

  “Why does he have so many books?” Jonathan asked. “Hasn’t he ever heard of an e-reader? They’ve been around for at least two hundred years.”

  “My grandfather hates virtual books. He says it’s not the same as holding the real thing, feeling the pages.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “I suppose—I’ve never really read out of them to know. I haven’t seen this many books all in one place though—how did he get them all? Do they have antique businesses that still print them?”

  “No. Most people don’t know it, but e-books come with a printing option. Usually only older people use it—and only the ones who have enough money to own a printing and book-binding machine.”

  “What’s a book-binding machine?” Eric asked. Everything that came out of his mouth, even the most innocent of words, sounded belligerent. Donovan tried not to let his dislike for the man show in his voice.

  “It binds the pages of the book to the cover.”

  “Ah.” Eric didn’t sound too impressed. In fact, he seemed somewhat amused by Tobias’s oddity.

  Donovan tried not to get angry. This was no time to go defending his grandfather over not liking the look on a man’s face. They already suspected Donovan of being a traitor. If General McGregor were there, Donovan knew what he’d say.

  Suck it up Knight. You’re a solider, not a boy scout.

  Instead of saying anything, he turned his back. He found Jonathan looking at him, almost knowingly—but when Donovan held his gaze Jonathan looked away.

  The search neared its conclusion, and Donovan was beginning to feel as if they had hit a dead end. There was nothing there. They would probably have to bring Tobias in for questioning. Donovan both feared and relished the chance to talk to his grandfather face to face. Maybe then he could get the truth about all this. He was still sure that there had to be some kind of explanation. His grandfather had to be innocent.

  As they were packing up their search technology and eliminating any DNA they left behind, Blaise climbed the ladder that allowed access to the upper shelves of the library. Out of all the crew, he had showed the most interest in the books, asking Donovan more detailed questions about how they were made. Donovan couldn’t answer most of them, but that didn’t stop Blaise from asking anyway.

  Blaise stretched for a book a foot above the reach of his arm. He leaned to the left, fingertips grasping, his right foot leaving the rung of the ladder. Suddenly, he lost his balance. Donovan watched, knowing even as he rushed across the room that Blaise would take a hard fall.

  The man tumbled to his left, arms flailing out madly in an attempt to grab onto something, anything. His fingers couldn’t find purchase on the shelves. Books came plummeting to the floor as he groped for something to save him.

  Unexpectedly, Blaise’s fall halted. He had managed to catch on to one of the lamps that protruded from the walls at regular intervals. It couldn’t hold his weight, however, and bent forward until it dangled upside down. The movement shook Blaise’s grip and he fell—a much shorter distance—to land solidly on the floor.

  The book shelves in front of Blaise began to shift. They slid to the side, revealing a dim passageway that turned sharply to the left.

  It had happened so quickly that the others hardly realized what was going on until Blaise landed. They turned from their various tasks to see the pile of man on the ground looking up at them, still startled from his accident, and an opening in the walls that had not been there before.

  Chapter 7

  “A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

  —Christopher Reeve

  May 5, 2176

  Atlanta, GA

  Donovan Knight

  “What the hell is that?” Paula asked.

  “A secret passage, clearly,” Tracee said, eyes trained on the spot. Donovan had not seen her remove her e-gun from the holster, but she now pointed it firmly in the direction of the opening, almond eyes wide as she concentrated on the spot. “Everyone stand back. Blaise get away from the door.”

  Blaise scrambled on hands a knees then stood up when he was a safe distance away. Tracee slowly approached the opening.

  “Wait,” Donovan said, reaching for her arm. “I’ll go first.”

  “Your life is more important than mine right now,” Tracee said without looking at him. “If there are any traps I’ll find them. I go first.”

  “But…”

  “That’s my assignment,” Tracee said. There was a little bit of anger in her voice. “I’m here to protect you at all costs. I go first.”

  Without waiting for an answer she walked purposefully forward and entered the darkness of the passage. The instant she stepped through, the corridor lit up. She approached the corner where it turned to the left and whipped around it, pointing her e-gun.

  “Clear.” She kept moving, disappearing behind the bend.

  Donovan quickly followed her, drawing his own e-gun. Paula came up behind him and the rest behind her.

  Around the corner was a long hall that sloped gently downwards and, at the end of it, a pair of doors. Tracee had already reached them, but she stood a couple of feet back.

  “Chaplain!” Tracee shouted, keeping her eyes locked on the door and e-gun at the ready.

  Jonathan rushed forward, the rest of them following closely.

  “Here, BG Parker.”

  “I need you to open this door.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jonathan pulled out his phone and went to work. They all stood there, each passing moment increasing the tension in their muscles.

  Finally, the double doors, which Donovan had presumed would swing open due to the fancy decorations carved into the wood and the shiny gold door hinges, slid to the side to disappear into the walls.

  “Looks like we’ve found Tobias’s lab,” Tracee said.

  “But how come my sensors didn’t find it?” Jonathan said. He looked frustrated and fascinated at the same time. “They should have sensed a security system.”

  Donovan laughed.

  “Don’t you get it?” he said. “There is no security system. He didn’t put one up because he knew that if anyone suspected him, they’d be looking for security systems to find hidden rooms.”

  Jonathan looked awestruck.

  “I bet there wasn’t even a lock on those doors. Tracee just assumed they were locked and you hacked into the sensor to force them open. But you didn’t have to break through any security system did you?”

  Jonathan’s eyes opened wider. “I didn’t…”

  “Watch,” Donovan said. “Close them again.”

  Jonathan did as he said. Donovan walked up to the closed doors. As soon as he was within a foot of them, they opened automatically.

  “See?” Donovan said. “No security whatsoever.”

  “Wow,” Jonathan said. “Never would have thought of that.”

  “Don’t feel too bad. My grandfather is a genius, after all.”

  Eric sneered. “I suppose that makes you proud doesn’t it? You sure you’re not on his side?”

  Donovan laughed again. “I’m not explaining myself again. Either you will follow me or you won’t. Or, if you prefer, I can speak with General Umar and have you removed from the team. I’m sure he can find you a mission that has a leader more to your liking.”

  Eric glared at him and stormed past, brushing Donovan’s shoulder.

  Tracee looked at Donovan and winked. Then she followed Eric into the lab.

  The entire room seemed to be made of metal. It was full of shiny, silver surfaces. There were multiple stainless steel refrigerators and tables. There was a deep sink and a long counter covered with test tubes, beakers, flasks, burettes, funnels, pipettes, and tons of other equipment Donovan didn’t recognize.

  It was clear that Tobias had cleaned the place meticulously—not a spill or a crumb anywhere, and every piece of equipment had its place.

  Paula opened up one of t
he refrigerators. “Tons of test tubes in here. May be the virus.”

  “Take pictures and record each sample,” Donovan said.

  Paula nodded and got to work. She pulled out a black device with a small hole at the bottom. She placed the device over a test tube and pressed a button. A needle eased out of the hole and into the contents of the test tube. The device recorded the properties of the sample and the needle withdrew. Paula moved on to the next one.

  The rest of them kept looking around, opening up cabinets and drawers. But there was nothing else interesting to be found. Tracee stood guard at the door, just in case they had unwittingly triggered some alarm that Tobias had hidden. Donovan doubted that there was any alarm system there, but Tracee insisted on being stationed at the door anyway.

  Jonathan, Blaise, and Eric joined Paula in recording the contents of the test tubes. There were more of them inside the other two refrigerators. At least twenty test tube racks were inside each fridge and about ten test tubes to each rack. Donovan waited patiently for them to finish.

  Just as they were wrapping up the last couple dozen test tubes, Donovan spotted a door in the corner, hidden behind a silver six-tier rolling cart. The shelves of the cart were packed with potted plants, which was why Donovan had not noticed the door behind it at first.

  Donovan rolled the cart gently to the right to reveal a plain white door. The way it was wedged into the corner made him think it was a broom closet. Maybe this was where Tobias kept extra cleaning supplies.

  Behind the door was not a closet but a whole other room, smaller than the first and filled with machines buzzing with advanced technology. Donovan checked on his team. Tracee was still just outside the front door—he could see the curve of her shoulder. The others had their backs to him, focused on the test tubes.

  Donovan stepped cautiously inside. The thing against the opposite wall immediately drew his attention. How could he not look at it?

  There was a wide counter and on top of it was what looked like a glass casket, like in that old Disney movie from the 2000s that his mother had made him watch. What was it called?

  Snow White.

  There was a body inside.

  Donovan approached cautiously, slowly. What kind of sick operation was his grandfather running down here? Whose body was it? Donovan’s breath came fast and he was afraid that the body inside the glass would move.

  Donovan had the silly, irrational thought that his grandfather was experimenting with bringing back the dead. That couldn’t be, because scientists had tried since the twenty-one hundreds and had reached a dead end in 2168.

  Donovan knew because he had spent months and months after his parents’ deaths studying the research, hoping against all logic that he could somehow spot a flaw in the experiments of the greatest minds in science.

  Even his grandfather had told him it was impossible. If Tobias couldn’t figure it out then no one would, but Donovan had tried anyway. He had only given up after an attempt to bring back a dead rabbit nearly killed him. Donovan had been surprised that he wasn’t punished when his grandfather found out about it.

  He’d never forgotten what his grandfather had said when he came to see Donovan in the hospital.

  “Aren’t I in trouble?” Donovan had asked when Tobias spent the whole visit without mentioning it. “I mean, I almost completely destroyed my room and I almost killed myself…”

  “Shush, boy,” Tobias had said gently. “There’s no punishment for missing your parents.”

  Donovan has nearly cried, so happy that someone understood.

  Knowing for certain that Tobias wasn’t attempting to resurrect corpses, Donovan wondered if it was his father’s body inside the casket. Looking intently at the figure from ten feet away—Donovan couldn’t bring himself to go any closer—it did sort of look like his father. It had the same skin tone, the same angle to its nose, the same hands clasped at the waist.

  Donovan took a deep breath.

  It’s just a dead body, Knight. Did I train you to be afraid of corpses? Get in there and investigate! Donovan wondered if General McGregor had implanted a device in his head to reprimand him whenever he messed up.

  He took a step, then another. As he moved closer he realized that the figure was not his father. It was someone far more disturbing and confusing.

  Inside the casket lay the body of world renowned scientific genius, Tobias Knight.

  Donovan stumbled as he backed away. He fell hard to the floor, hitting his tailbone. He rubbed his back, scrubbing away the pain. Gingerly, he rose to his feet.

  He heard General McGregor’s voice in his head…

  In 2241, we discovered Tobias’s secret lab. In it, we found documents that revealed that he experimented with cloning and the creation of human-friendly viruses, both of which activities are illegal.

  …and he realized that the body in the glass coffin—or not a coffin but a storage container—was a clone of his grandfather.

  Much less afraid now, Donovan walked up to the glass. It looked exactly like his grandfather, from the hairs in his nose to the small mole on the left side of his neck. His eyes were closed. The clone was dressed in a suit. It really did look like a dead body. Donovan wondered how it worked—was the clone alive but in an artificial coma? Was it a working body with pumping blood?

  As he thought the question, he noticed that the chest of the clone was rising and falling. So the thing was alive. But what was its purpose? Could it actually walk and talk or would it spend its life sleeping?

  Maybe his grandfather had only created it to use it for its organs. Donovan shuddered at the genius of the idea. If Tobias’s heart went bad, there was another, right there, working perfectly. All he had to do was take it. It was perfectly compatible. No rejection meds needed.

  But then again, what about the life of the clone? Did it have its own personality, separate from Tobias? Did it have feelings? Or was it just a hunk of flesh to be used as a commodity?

  Donovan stared into the familiar face, much younger than what he was accustomed to, but familiar nonetheless.

  The hairs on the back of Donovan’s neck stood up. He stiffened, certain that someone had snuck up on him and was standing right behind him. He listened closely.

  Donovan heard the voices of his team in the other room. They hadn’t noticed his absence—it had seemed like hours but he’d only been gone for a moment or two. They were talking about what they would do next. Donovan heard first Paula then Eric speak. Then he heard Jonathan. Where were Blaise and Tracee?

  Certainly Tracee had to still be keeping watch? And even if it were her or Blaise, wouldn’t they have said something by now?

  All of these thoughts flashed through Donovan’s head in a second. In one quick movement, he reached to his holster and drew his e-gun, spinning around at the same time.

  He didn’t even get to bring the e-gun up to eye level. A force like that of a charging bull knocked it out of his hand. He felt his bone crack as the gun went flying and fell to the floor.

  Donovan shouted as the pain lanced up him arm, but he couldn’t linger over it. He had to move or he would die. He was only aware of a hulking figure standing over him and the urgency of escape.

  Instinct took over. Donovan grabbed the nearest object and held it in front of his face to block the next blow. As the fist of his attacker dented it, he realized that it was a large metal bowl.

  The others had heard his shout and came rushing in. The man, distracted by the new arrivals, turned to defend himself. Donovan seized his chance. He grabbed his gun from the floor and stood up.

  Paula and Eric had both already shot the man with the electric shock settings on their e-guns, but he was impervious to them. He charged forward and grabbed Paula by the throat, slamming her into the wall.

  Donovan winced, knowing firsthand the strength of the enemy. A sickened feeling crept into his bowels as he saw Paula slide to the floor, blood trailing behind her head, eyes wide open. Donovan had seen that look in the eye
s of many soldiers and even more enemies. She was dead.

  The attacker had already moved on to Eric, who shot at the attacker over and over, fear making his hand shake. His volts missed every time.

  Before Eric could react, the man had punched him in the stomach, sending him flying. Eric landed and did not get up. Blood began to spread on the stomach area of his white t-shirt. He lay on his side, staring at Donovan as blood dripped out of his mouth.

  Donovan had never been this afraid in his life. There was no way anyone could be this powerful. Who the hell was this guy?

  Jonathan and Blaise had retreated at the display of strength. They turned over tables and used them as shields, firing their e-guns over the top, settings on kill mode. Donovan added to their attacks, shooting at the man from behind, terrified that he would turn back around at any second.

  Even the volts that landed did hardly anything to slow the man down. He shook momentarily each time he was hit but plunged forward relentlessly.

  He reached over the table and grabbed Blaise by the shoulders. There was a gurgling noise as Blaise relieved himself. Donovan and Jonathan kept shooting. Only when Blaise was thrown to the side like a rag doll, body dangling over one of the tables, did Donovan wonder where Tracee had gone.

  The man closed in on Jonathan. As if on cue, Tracee came running in from the main door.

  “What happened?” she shouted.

  “Where were you?” Donovan shouted at the same time.

  Tracee saw the threat and immediately began shooting. Donovan kept up his fire. It didn’t stop the man—or creature, Donovan was beginning to think—but it slowed him down enough for Jonathan to scramble backwards, out of its reach.

  Jonathan would die if Donovan didn’t do something.

  You’re going to die, a voice in his head said. You’re going to fail.

  Donovan leapt. He landed on the man’s back and pulled his arms around the thick neck. He flexed his muscles, putting as much pressure on the throat as he could. If Donovan could hold on long enough, the man would suffocate.