AMPED w-2

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AMPED w-2 Page 5

by Douglas E. Richards


  “Yes. You were the one who contacted me by phone. Devon, I believe.”

  She winced in such a way that it was both devilish and apologetic at the same time. “Well, yes. But I have to say I mislead you about my name. Just in case you weren’t interested, I thought it better to go by Devon. Sorry about that. But no need for any subterfuge now. My name is really Kira. Kira Miller.”

  He was already suspicious of this outfit, and this revelation only made him more so. He almost wanted to flee back home now, but a sinking feeling in his gut told him he was past the point of no return. And this woman, who had unabashedly admitted to giving him a false name, wore an expression so open and sincere, and was so clearly enthusiastic about meeting him, that he found himself strangely at ease.

  His eyes refused to leave her face until he felt a gentle nudge from behind. The man who had driven him here was still present, and now his hand was outstretched. “I’m part of CREX as well,” he said. “I thought I’d wait until you met the others and then introduce myself properly.”

  Van Hutten took the offered hand. He had suspected there was more to this man than met the eye.

  “David Desh,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you, David.”

  Matt Griffin could barely contain his excitement. “You’re undoubtedly wondering why you’re here,” he said.

  Van Hutten stifled a smile. For some reason he wanted to say, “undoubtedly,” in reply, but resisted the urge. “No question about it,” he replied instead.

  “Good. We’ll get right to it then,” said Griffin, leading van Hutten and the others toward a conference room at the center of the building.

  Kira Miller strode beside the physicist and said, “Just to warn you, some of what we’ll be telling you will seem a little outrageous. We fully expect you to be skeptical at first. All we ask is that you keep an open mind and give us the chance to convince you.”

  The queasy feeling in the pit of van Hutten’s stomach returned with a vengeance. “You’ll have my full attention,” he replied.

  He had no idea what he was getting into, but if worst came to worst, if they revealed themselves as some kind of quasi-scientific cult—the church of the quantum cosmological spirit or something equally lunatic—he was prepared to humor them: at least until he could remove himself from their company.

  “You have me intrigued,” he said, deciding to begin humoring them now, just in case. “It sounds as if today may be more interesting than I thought.”

  Kira glanced up at him without replying, but an amused bearing came over the affable giant lumbering next to her. “You have no idea,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “You really have no idea.”

  5

  Colonel Morris “Jake” Jacobson exited the F14 Tomcat that had rocketed him to Peterson Air Force Base in Colorado Springs, and boarded a car that was waiting to take him to a civilian helicopter waiting nearby. Landing a civilian helicopter on a street or field in Denver would attract far more attention than he would like, but not nearly as much as a military chopper would attract. The night sky was crystal clear and dense with stars, but this was the last thing on Jake’s mind.

  “Give me a situation report, Captain,” he said into his cell phone.

  “We found the glass building precisely where you told us it would be, Colonel,” said the special forces captain who had been on scene for some time now. “And the warehouse eighty yards to the east as well. Our teams have established a hundred-yard perimeter around them both. We arrived in civilian vehicles and used maximum discretion during our deployment. We have twenty-four men who are dug in, including four snipers. We’re in an industrial area, poorly lighted, and it’s well after work hours, so our confidence is high we weren’t observed by anyone in the vicinity.”

  “And you can confirm that Kira Miller and David Desh are in the building?”

  “Yes, sir. I saw them enter with my own eyes. They matched the photos you provided exactly. There’s always the chance one or more of them has a body double, or has altered their appearance as a decoy. But if so, they did a masterful job.”

  Jake considered. While masterful was well within the capabilities of these two, he believed the chance they were not who they seemed to be was virtually zero in this case. He had broken Rosenblatt, of that he was certain. The physicist had given Jake this location less than seven hours earlier, breaking into tears periodically as he did so and begging him not to hurt his remaining children.

  It had been heart wrenching, but Rosenblatt had been beyond the possibility of deceit. And if the captain had seen only one of them, perhaps it was a case of mistaken identity, but both Desh and Miller together entering the building Rosenblatt insisted was their working headquarters was too much of a stretch.

  “You’re certain no one has left since they entered?”

  “Positive. They’re still in the center of the glass building. Judging from the spacing, it may be a kitchen area, but we believe it’s a conference room. We’ve been reading the heat signatures of five humans for hours.”

  Jake searched his mind for anything he might be missing, but came up empty.

  He had them, he thought triumphantly, but the sober part of his nature returned almost immediately to restrain his enthusiasm. From what he understood, they had been in situations just as hopeless before and had slipped the noose. He couldn’t allow himself to be overconfident.

  “Thank you Captain Ruiz. I’ll be coming in by civilian helo, with an ETA of about twenty minutes. I’m going to have the pilot land in as secluded a spot as possible about three miles out, just to be certain the sound of the chopper blades doesn’t alert them.”

  “Three miles, Colonel? Civilian helos are quieter than military ones.”

  Ruiz was correct, but he hadn’t been briefed on the exact nature of what they were dealing with. Who knew what kind of technology Miller and Desh had up their sleeves? Who knew what kind of automated listening devices they might have invented for sniffing out incoming choppers? The more he thought about the capabilities of a group who could amplify their intelligence to levels that made the brightest humans seem like gorillas, the more nervous he became.

  “Very true, Captain, but I’d like you to spread the word to the team. While on this op, assume we’re facing hostiles with capabilities and skills even greater than our own. It’s critical that they not be underestimated.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Jake inhaled deeply. It was time. He needed to make several critical decisions, and he needed to make them quickly. The current tactical situation could not be more ideal. But if Miller and the others entered the tunnel to their warehouse the situation would grow more complex and uncertainties would make the op more difficult.

  He vowed that whatever it took, he would see to it that Miller and Desh would not slip the noose again.

  6

  Van Hutten and his four escorts arrived at the conference room, which was large and bright and packed with life. Kira loved plants, believing they were both good for the human soul as well as the quality of indoor air, and there were more plants within the facility than could be found in many outdoor gardens. The conference room itself was home to three Chinese fan palms, each of which reached the ceiling, and two amstel-king-braid ficus trees, all potted in round, one-hundred-gallon brushed silver containers that fit with the conference room’s theme of contemporary simplicity.

  They took seats around an elegant glass conference table that was shaped like a giant’s surfboard, pointed at a fifty inch monitor on the wall.

  Kira studied van Hutten with barely concealed enthusiasm. A physicist of his caliber who had made it through all of their screens was potentially huge for the project. They had told Seth Rosenblatt that van Hutten wasn’t acceptable, but this was part of their security plan to compartmentalize information, especially personnel information, whenever possible. What Rosenblatt didn’t know couldn’t hurt him—or others.

  “Anton,” she began. “We really are honored tha
t you could join us. But I’d like to get right to the point. And once again, I’ll ask for your patience and open mindedness. I promise you everything we tell you is completely accurate. And we’ll prove it to you before we’re through.”

  Van Hutten’s face tightened, and he looked understandably uneasy, but he just nodded and said nothing.

  Kira had always been the type who liked to tear band-aids off swiftly. “I’m a molecular biologist,” she said. “Several years ago I developed a gene therapy. For about an hour at a time, this therapy can boost human intelligence to . . . well, there’s no other way to say it: to immeasurable levels.”

  Van Hutten blinked several times as if he had no idea what these words meant. A quizzical expression came over his face. “Immeasurable levels?” he repeated, as if his ears hadn’t been working properly.

  Kira nodded. “That’s right.”

  She could tell van Hutten was trying hard to remain expressionless, but even so the slightest sneer of disbelief flashed over his face. He glanced at the three men at the table, as if looking for an expression that would confirm that this was an elaborate joke, that he was being put on. She could only imagine what must be going through his head. Was he wondering if this was an initiation rite? If he was being tested to see how he would react? More likely, Kira knew, he probably thought he was in the company of a group of dangerous, delusional zealots.

  “The human brain has nearly unlimited potential,” she continued. “But it’s wired for survival rather than pure intelligence. Autistic savants give us a small window into the possibilities. There are autistic savants who can memorize entire phone books in one reading and can multiply ten digit numbers faster than a calculator. What if you could unleash capabilities even greater than these across all areas of thought and creativity?”

  Van Hutten’s eyes narrowed as he considered this argument. He tilted his head and his expression became slightly less skeptical; slightly more thoughtful. “Go on,” he said.

  Connelly and Desh excused themselves from the room as Kira forged ahead. She described how she had experimented on animals before eventually turning herself into a human guinea pig. She described the enormous plasticity of the human brain, which allowed for a ten-fold range of human intelligence, from an IQ of twenty-five to above two hundred, even without being engineered to optimize the potential of what was basically an infinite number of neuronal connections. She explained how she had ultimately developed a cocktail of engineered viruses contained within gellcaps, which delivered a genetic payload that rewired the brain in minutes—in a chain reaction that ordered neurons in a way that random evolution never could. And she explained that they were telling him all this because they wanted to recruit him to their cause, which they would elaborate upon later.

  Along the way van Hutten began asking questions and making comments, seemingly unable to avoid becoming intellectually engaged by the discussion, despite himself.

  Finally, Kira presented video footage of early experiments she had done on lab rats, who unlike the repulsive sewer rats of horror movie fame, were gray faced and had pink, Mickey Mouse ears that made them look almost cute and cuddly. The footage showed the rodents learning a classical water maze, swimming in a panic inside what looked like a rat hot tub, the water made opaque with powdered milk, until they found the quadrant with a submerged platform. While natural swimmers, the rats always looked to be on the verge of drowning. Many repetitions were required before the test subjects spent most of their time searching for the platform in the correct quadrant.

  The video then showed a rat that had just arrived at the facility, one that had never been trained. This rat was injected with Kira’s virus cocktail and twenty minutes later placed in a cage overlooking the water maze, able to observe an untreated cousin flail around in the water until it finally, randomly, found the platform.

  The moment the cocktail treated rat was placed in the water maze it swam straight as an arrow for the platform.

  Kira explained how stunned she had been the first time this had happened. The rat had learned how to beat the test just by watching a single one of its brethren. A single time. It was unheard of.

  Toward the middle of the video, Desh and Connelly had returned to the meeting carrying water, soft drinks, and a tray of heaping roast beef, chicken club, and tuna salad sandwiches, which had undoubtedly been prepared ahead of time and stored in a nearby refrigerator. By the time the video ended and Kira had finished her narration, the men had eaten their fill.

  Kira clicked off the screen with a small black remote and turned her attention to van Hutten. He was deep in thought. She sensed from his questions and reactions that he wanted to believe, but her claims were so fantastic, so audacious, that he couldn’t get beyond his last shred of skepticism. She was no stranger to this reaction.

  “Now we all know that everything I just told you could be an elaborate hoax,” said Kira. “And the rat footage could have been faked.” She paused. “I could also go on to show you discoveries and inventions that are clearly beyond the current state of the art. We’ve done this before as well, with mixed results. Some who’ve been where you are, Anton, believe us and let down their guard, while some continue to be skeptical. Once you’ve seen a few Vegas magic acts, you believe that anything can be faked in close quarters. Inventions, videos, what have you.”

  Van Hutten allowed himself a shallow smile. “True. But at least I’m convinced you’re a molecular biologist. Your knowledge of the brain and genetic engineering is impressive. And I have to say your arguments make the impossible seem almost reasonable.” He paused. “But you’re right. I still can’t help but think this might be nothing more than a magic act—although admittedly a dazzling one.”

  The room was totally silent for several long seconds. Kira removed a roast beef sandwich from the tray and caught Griffin’s eye, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. Her part of the show was now over. Desh had insisted long before that she not be involved in the part of the discussion that could often get unpleasant. Not because she was a woman and they were men, but because she was the unanimously acknowledged leader of the group and they all thought it important that she stay above the fray.

  The giant blew out a long breath. “The only way you’ll believe us the proverbial one hundred and ten percent,” he said, “Is if you take a gellcap and see for yourself.” He paused to give van Hutten time to digest this statement. “I promise you that the effects are not dangerous. And they only last for about an hour. You’ll be famished afterwards, but we’ll supply you with plenty of high-glycemic-index food.” Griffin smiled. “For those of us who experimented a little in college with cannabis sativa,” he added, “these are better known as munchies.”

  Desh fixed an intense gaze on van Hutten. “Are you willing to try it?” he asked.

  The physicist removed his black framed glasses, rubbed his eyes, and placed them back on his face. “And if I’m not?” he said finally.

  “We can respect that,” replied Desh. “I was reluctant myself. It’s as if you’re being pushed to take LSD. We’re telling you it’s harmless, and there are no after effects, but this requires you to trust us implicitly. And it is mind altering. No one could blame you for not wanting to rush into something like this.”

  “Then you’re okay if I pass?”

  Desh grimaced. “Actually no,” he said. “I’m afraid we’d have to insist. We know that forcing this on you couldn’t be more unethical. We try to make ourselves feel better by using the ends justify the means argument, but we know this argument is the last refuge of the incompetent. But I also know you’ll be thanking me when this is all over.”

  “For forcing me into something I don’t want to do?”

  Desh nodded. “Unlike you, we know it won’t have after effects.” He tilted his head. “Suppose you come across a man from a primitive culture dying from a bacterial infection and you have penicillin. Suppose this person believes he can get better and refuses to take the penicillin, know
ing nothing about it and not certain he can trust you. But you know this antibiotic will cure him, and he’ll die otherwise. Do you force him to take it?”

  “Yes,” replied van Hutten with only a moment of thought. “Some wouldn’t, I suppose, but I would.” He shook his head. “But this is the most strained analogy I’ve ever heard. I’m not a primitive dying of a bacterial infection. This is far from life and death. The comparison you’re trying to draw couldn’t be more flawed.”

  Desh grinned. “Quit beating around the bush, Professor, and tell me what you really think.”

  Griffin smiled as well. “Can’t say you don’t have a point, Dr van Hut . . . um, Anton,” he added. “The problem with recruiting brilliant people is that they’re so damn . . . well, brilliant. Not easy to persuade.”

  “Look,” said Desh, “we’re asking you to do this voluntarily. But again, we’re prepared to make this happen by force if necessary. Even knowing we have no ethical ground to stand on. We’re not proud of it. But we can’t let you leave until you’ve been what we call enhanced.”

  “Why? Why is this so important?”

  “Because no one who has been enhanced even a single time has not joined our efforts,” said Connelly, who had remained largely quiet throughout the proceedings. “If you don’t experience this for yourself, realize that everything we’ve told you is true, the security risk is too high. You know too much about us.”

  “Will you volunteer?” pressed Desh.

  “I’m not sure we have the same definition of volunteer,” responded van Hutten. “Basically, my voluntary choices are to take the gellcap myself, or be manhandled and have the pill forced down my throat. Is that about right?”

  Desh frowned. “I’m really very sorry about this. You’re a good man and a brilliant scientist. We’ve studied you closely, and we’ve all come to admire you. The thing is, I’m certain you’ll forgive me once you’ve experienced what we’ve all experienced. And you’ll understand the tradeoffs we felt we were forced to make.”

 

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