Discovery

by Douglas E Roff

  “But Bitsie, this just sounds, I don’t know, farfetched? And impossible.”

  “So, did landing on the moon two years before the event. But it still happened, didn’t it? Look, Adam, just come down and see for yourself and then we can put all this to rest. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.”

  A colossal waste of time, Adam thought. But I better go down there and see what’s up with all this nonsense.

  Chapter 26

  Adam borrowed his brother’s car, boarded the ferry from Victoria to Tsawwassen, entered the US at the Blaine Peace Arch border crossing then took the I-5 straight down to Portland. It was an all-day trip from Barrows Bay but far from unpleasant in any way. He had done the shorter drive on his regular visits to Hannah in Seattle, so the route was almost second nature. He had an urge to stop and knock on Hannah’s door but knew how badly that would end. So, he drove past the I-405 turnoff East for Mercer Island and stuck to his plan to be in Portland later that day.

  He had eight hours to kill on his journey south, so he filled his time thinking, first, about Hannah, and, second, about what he had read in these fantastical books. He found it impossible to believe that Bitsie and Tony found any of it credible. But he found it equally impossible to believe that they would waste his time on pure fiction and drag him down to Portland on some wild goose chase. It simply wasn’t in their natures to be that irresponsible.

  So, he decided to do a mental review of what he had read and prepare himself for his meeting with his American colleagues.

  The Book of Gensarii, or simply the Book as Bitsie had called it, was well over a thousand pages long and appeared to be an abbreviated history of a people called the Gens. It was neatly divided into over one hundred chapters, each covering a different aspect of Thomas’ “people”, their history and their mythical nature. References were made to primary source materials, which Adam assumed were the manuscripts and written materials accompanying the Book. For a work of obvious fiction, Adam thought it read like a family history, one you would share with your children and grandchildren, so they would take pride in being a “Smith” or a “Jones”. Or a “Gens”. Maybe Gens was an old family name.

  ***

  But something was going on. Something odd and curiously exciting, yet at the same time it felt completely wrong. Adam was aware of the various methods his and the other DataLab Project teams used to obtain sensitive data. Although he sometimes questioned whether these methods were appropriate, legality being a whole separate notion, he didn’t question his fundamental understanding of the end game.

  Data is data, he reasoned, and the knowledge gained through these practices was important and sometimes vital. In his world view, data alone contained no intrinsic moral attributes one way or the other. It simply was. The use to which data could be put, and by whom, was an entirely different story. Data in the hands of bad people could lead to a bad result. At the age of twenty-six he was convinced that this Project, the DataLab Project, was on the side of the angels and could only pray that he and others with access had the wisdom to use this data only for the right reasons.

  Adam was aware of the great power he was creating for his governments, both American and Canadian, but he was highly confidant it would never be misused. The American President and the Canadian Prime Minister had both assured him, through appropriate legal and agency channels, that misuse would not now nor ever be an option. Though codified into law, it was still a fact of everyday life that Presidents and Prime Ministers change at the whim of the electorate. Their minions and operatives might not always tow the same moral and ethical line. Their successors might ignore or redraw the lines entirely.

  That was Edward’s view, anyway.

  Adam could envision good people, and bad people, and how they might use or misuse such a powerful tool. Where he lost sleep was contemplating the tweeners – fundamentally good people doing bad things for profit, patriotism or a whole host of other delusional justifications.

  What he hadn’t considered was the role of fortuity in the scheme of things.

  Chapter 27

  How and why Adam had gotten involved in this Gens Library situation was, in retrospect, pure accident. He had received a call from a contact and friend of his fathers at the FBI field office in Seattle asking for a huge favor. The FBI guy thought he had discovered a complete and veritable treasure trove of hard evidence of Mafia wrongdoing that had been compiled by a man the FBI had been watching for many years. They had information, but no real evidence, that the rumored financial “holy grail” of Mafia wrongdoing was real and about to be lost if action was not immediately taken. The FBI needed his services in locating this cache and securing it quietly without the direct intervention by the federal agency.

  Adam questioned his old family friend, Regional Director Peter Berg of the Seattle field office, as to why the FBI would need anyone outside the agency to secure this data for them. Berg simply replied that the security and significance of the materials was so important that no chances could be taken that word would leak out internally and the materials suddenly disappear. Besides, he noted, this wasn’t much more than a rumor and if he was wrong about it, he’d look like an idiot. Since the feds were footing the bill on the DataLab Project, and most of Adam’s other unrelated pet projects, would Adam mind doing him a solid and chasing this down for him? It wouldn’t take but a day or two, but he had to be physically present in Tucson, Arizona to accomplish this task. It was that important.

  Berg was persuasive about the need for secrecy and the overarching importance of this collection of financial data. Lives were potentially at stake and time was of the essence.

  Berg had proven himself to be a stand-up guy and had helped Adam’s father more than a few times on cases with a criminal bent. Beyond that, the request, according to Berg, had come from Assistant Director Joseph Martin in DC. No request from Joe was to be taken lightly, either by Edward or Adam. He said yes immediately and began his undertaking without thinking through other commitments. That it was imperative that he had to start right away and waste no time getting to work was made abundantly clear. Berg asked Adam to drop everything and do this little favor for him. How could he say no?

  A two or three day “task” turned into a month-long ordeal.

  The cock up began with a clerical error by a temp at the Seattle FBI field office and was compounded by the misspelling of a man’s name in the newspaper. This error, in turn, was passed on to an auction house that identified the assets being sold as belonging to a “Thomas Beneviste” and listed the inventory generically as “books and records; financial data”. The name was spotted by an informed citizen by accident, who then reported it to the local police. The police, in turn, pushed it up the chain of command at the FBI until it reached Martin’s desk, then Berg’s. Peter had worked on the Joint Organized Crime Task Force as a newly minted Special Agent and knew this could be a gift from God.

  Along the way, the story morphed quickly and imaginatively into something it wasn’t. Thomas Benevide was the brother-in-law of one of the major New York City crime bosses, recently retired to Tucson, Arizona.

  Adam did the job and then informed Regional Director Berg that there had been a colossal fuck up. There was no Mafia gold mine, just some dusty old fictional nonsense. It wasn’t the Estate of Thomas Benevide, but some other jamoke named Thomas Beneviste.

  Berg wasn’t laughing. “I hope this cock up didn’t screw up your vacation plans”, Martin said. “Looks like another dead end. Thanks though, the Bureau appreciates your help. And, please say hi to your Dad.”

  It had screwed everything up, Adam thought, but what was done was done. Hannah would understand his absence from the family get together, he told himself. She had many times before, and always understood. Besides, it was just dinner with her folks. One more time couldn’t matter much. They’d just reschedule.

  Hannah was good that way. Understanding.

  Chapter 28

  So, Adam t
hought, I’m on my way to Portland to talk to my mates about the possibility that we have discovered the answer to a mystery that no one knows anything about and is over one hundred thousand years in the making to boot. If he had read the Book and the Diary correctly, and they weren’t total pulp fiction, Adam and his team had uncovered the existence of real life vampires. No, really, he thought, friggin’ vampires.

  God help me, Adam thought, I’m probably going to have to fire Bitsie and Tony for doing acid on the job.

  ***

  Somewhere south of the Joint Base Lewis/McCord, along the I-5 corridor, Adam began to parse the first few pages of the Book, allowing his mind to posit, just for the next couple of hours, that it might possibly be true. Not vampires, of course, that was ridiculous. Ludicrous. But what if something else was at play, something truly sensational?

  The introductory pages of the Book read like fiction, and, truth be told, were very well written.

  “I have broken my solemn oath as the Chief Librarian of the Gens Collective to preserve the history of my people. I don’t expect the Council of Elders or the Great Council to understand why I do this; only that it is now done. A war is coming and that war we cannot win. That we have existed and presently thrive among mankind as neighbors and fellow citizens is of no import. When measured against the tidal forces arrayed against the only natural and effective defense we have ever known – secrecy - our time in the shadows may be drawing short. For millennia past, we have hidden in plain sight with little reason to fear discovery.

  “And we have been clever, and careful, in sowing the seeds of misinformation and disinformation so shrewdly and completely to protect our existence and our way of life. But our people are changing too and in ways I can no longer comprehend. We don’t speak with one voice anymore and the dissention among our people, thought impossible a mere 100 years ago, is more akin to human behavior than that of our Collective.

  How did this come to be, and why?

  I wish I felt something greater than despair, but I don’t. When all is said and done, and our history completely written, it is my hope that, should a few of our kind survive and persist, that they will take solace in what I have written and have a more complete understanding of their place in both history and the natural world.

  “TB – April 20, 2013”

  Chapter 29

  “OK, staff, what have you?” Adam asked his opening question, with suspicion and doubt, as soon as he settled in to the secure conference room at their facility overlooking the Willamette River and close to nearby Portland International Airport. He could see the river from the top floor of the space they rented and often wondered who owned a building with rents so incredibly low. He could have queried the DL Main, but having an answer would probably not, in fact, have helped clarify actual ownership.

  He put everything out of his mind as he readied himself for a conversation he didn’t think would end well.

  Bitsie began, “We took the most fragile docs and sent them out for document restoration at the facility in San Francisco. And we now have more data on the age of the paper, media, dyes and ink. So far, lab analysis confirms what we told you earlier: the dates on the documents are substantially confirmed by the C-14 testing.”

  “Substantially? Meaning what?” Asked Adam.

  “That the documents are old, the ink is old and, well, there you have it. I see no realistic possibility that these items could have been forged or counterfeited, at least not with the tech that forgers have today. We identified possible locations for the other library collections using the GPS coordinates we found in the book we sent you. We have verified that the coordinates generally correspond to cities or landmarks in seven different locations around the world.”

  “And? I’m still not making a concrete connection between anything you have discovered and the contents of the books you sent me. What am I missing and why the hell am I here? You could have told me all this on the phone.”

  Tony spoke up, “Boss, what Bitsie initially found and what we have since uncovered, confirms many of the details written in those books. Details meticulously derived from source materials we now have. And every single source document was, as far as we now know, written roughly in chronological order dating back at least several thousand years, probably longer.”

  “So, what are you telling me, guys? We have monsters in our midst? A new and terrifying species? Or maybe space aliens? C’mon, this is an elaborate hoax and you’re wasting my time. Surely you know this. I really expected more from you guys than this nonsense.”

  Tony continued, “Bitsie also found a connection to a company called BioGen International, PLC, which is headquartered in Zurich, but operates at least six research facilities in the US. The US head office is a research facility in Princeton, New Jersey. All facilities are engaged in scientific research related in some form or fashion to genetics, some even for the CDC. But here’s an odd piece: they have no patents, no known intellectual property of any sort and no contracts with any of the big biotech firms in the industry. Nuthin’.”

  “Get to the point before you’re both on permanent unpaid leave. This is trying my infinitely tiny patience.” Adam was annoyed – his colleagues were wasting his time on marginal speculation about documents and information that should already have been uploaded to the DL Main. The source documents should then have been released back to the family claiming them, if some degree of ownership could be established and the team then moved on to the next important task.

  “You don’t find any of this odd?” Bitsie asked. “And some guy calls you out of the blue, threatens you, lies to you and then we find all this? Adam, if these are forgeries, we need to alert the authorities that this quality and quantity of work is even possible.”

  “I’ll talk to my father; he can do the follow up.” Adam rose and as if starting for the door.

  “We already have, Adam. Your father told us that these documents cannot be forgeries. Given the condition and fragility of some of the manuscripts, the radiocarbon dating, chemical analysis of ink and dyes, and a few other details we don’t completely understand, he said it’s not possible for the immense volume of these things to have been faked.”

  “You did what?” Both Bitsie and Tony had heard the tone of that question from Adam before and steeled themselves for a tsunami sized temper tantrum.

  Bitsie spoke first, “Sorry, but we called Edward because we knew that this was how you were going to react. You can’t imagine anything that isn’t perfectly scientific, easily quantifiable and symmetrical. But that’s not my job, Adam. So, try not to create a shit storm here just because you can’t wrap your head around the possibility that something very odd, very strange is going on and we just may need to follow up on it. Hey, do what you gotta do when we’re finished but Edward says we need to check this all out first. Then we can do as you ask. That’s the protocol and you know it.”

  “Let me get this straight. You believe what’s in those books, do you? Enough to bet your jobs, ‘cause believe me, that is exactly what you’re doing. This is a waste of time for us. All of us. It’s not your job to follow up myths and legends, family histories and utter nonsense. Give it to someone else if you feel that strongly. Hell, give it to Edward if that floats your boat. But move on. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal”, said Bitsie. “And here’s a news flash for you, you arrogant little prick. I’m not afraid of you and your little temper tantrums and I’m not impressed with your obvious disregard for the protocols established by our employer, the federal DataLab Project and your father, Edward St. James, the actual project director. You manage this operation, but I don’t work for you. Neither does Tony. And you can thank your lucky fucking stars that you have us because without my expertise and Tony’s actual management skills, this place wouldn’t run at all. So, piss off Adam. You think you can fire us then do your best.”

  “You know Bitsie, for someone as smart as you, you can be pretty fucking stupid so
metimes. I can make one phone call, right now if you’d like, and you and Tony are both gone. Just like you were never here. Now I don’t really care if you like me or not, want to do this job or not, or have greater ambitions or not. None of that matters when you go off the fucking reservation like this. But I want this wrapped up pronto and I want you guys to get back to work on the things I tell you to work on.”

  “Not going to happen, Adam. Make your call.” Bitsie had no right to speak for Tony, but Tony didn’t mind in this instance. Tony could handle confrontation and a modicum of shouting. But he preferred to pick his spots and with Adam and his temper; there were simply too many spots. Bitsie, by contrast, never seemed to tire of confrontation with the boy king.

  While Tony was no stranger to confrontation and foul language, he had never heard Bitsie use foul language ever and he had never seen Adam lose his temper this quickly or this badly at her. True, Adam could be a little prick, just like Bitsie said. But Tony believed that Bitsie didn’t fully apprehend who Adam really was or that his was the only threat that mattered.

  Adam stepped out of the conference room, then reappeared moments later, cell phone in hand. “It’s for you, Bitsie.”, and handed his smart phone to her.

  Bitsie listened for a moment, then said, “Yes, Madam Secretary. No ma’am, I wasn’t aware of that. Yes, ma’am, I will do that. No, no you’ve been perfectly clear. Yes, ma’am, he is an abrasive prick, but I see your point. I’ll try to do better. Thank you. Goodbye.”

  Bitsie clicked off and tossed the phone back to Adam. “Keep your fucking job, asshole. I quit.” She started out of the conference room, but Adam stood in her way.

  “You have seventy-two hours to make your case about this complete and utter bullshit. Then get back to work.” Adam was furious, but he wasn’t a complete fool. He wanted Bitsie to do as he demanded, not leave. He detested almost everything about Bitsie and her attitude except her competence and professionalism. He couldn’t do without her. Having peed out his territory again, Adam would try to be more conciliatory.