“Cindy and I just got back from our field trip to New Jersey. We got in. We got into the lab facility in Princeton. Data is streaming in and it’s unbelievable how much we got.”
“What lab? What’s in New Jersey anyway? What data?”
“Cone of silence, man, cone of silence. Not on the phone. But it’s way cool and seriously serious. Can you come over later today? Bring Misti – she needs an update too. We’re on our way.”
“Your place then?”
“No, Dad’s. In an hour – don’t be late!” Rod clicked off.
***
Adam and Misti started down the gravel road from their cabin to the highly manicured grounds of the Institute, veering to the left at the T intersection and following the ring road to the lovely Rancher Edward called home.
The road ringed the Institute grounds and the small but dense residential area that comprised the inner grounds of the Institute proper. Outside the ring road, where Adam and Misti lived, was the more newly developed and sparsely populated “New Territories”, so named by an Aussie Research Fellow who spent several years at the Institute but preferred living out among the pines and in seclusion.
Utilities had been extended out to meet the growing, yet still tiny demand for services outside the ring road as the population at the Institute was stable and accommodation normally adequate yet growing modestly nonetheless. About half of the Institute’s employees were more or less permanent, and half rotated from year to year, sometimes every two to three years. Housing was provided at no cost, but selection was limited to what was on hand. No prima donnas were allowed with giant opulent homes that couldn’t possibly be needed by a modest family of four or five. Conservation was key, and if that value was not shared, the Institute made clear that a prospective Fellow might not be happy in Barrows Bay. Only rarely did Fellows live off Institute and usually for personal and private reasons. While no egos were ever checked at the door, adherence to certain principles were mandatory.
After all, this was Canada where even Conservatives are nominally progressive.
Every service required from electricity to water and sewer to telecommunications was self-contained within the larger boundaries of the Institute, a fenced and monitored near rectangle of about one thousand five hundred acres. The western border of the Institute was the north south highway along the eastern coast of Vancouver Island and the eastern border was the Strait of Georgia. About five hundred acres of the grounds were in regular use; about a thousand acres were buffer and would never be developed.
The population of the Institute was around two thousand souls, of which approximately 80% were researchers, staff and family, and the balance service and support. The Institute had a small K through 12 primary school open only to Institute personnel and their families plus a few Island and scholarship residential boarding students. There were a few retail shops and only one member of law enforcement, Cindy’s father Mark Eagan. Cindy’s mom, Julia, was a volunteer for just about every activity in need of spare hands with free time, though most days she confined herself to perfecting her gardens and lawns while attending to the stress that was occasionally her husband and daughter.
***
Until Mark Eagan and his family arrived as the sole member of the RCMP stationed at the Institute, the RCMP had rotated personnel in and out on one or two-year tours of duty. The assignment was not considered beneficial for advancement, therefore was almost always considered too dead end for the young constables usually chosen to go there. Most were assigned, and the posting was only rarely requested. When their year was up, most young Constables couldn’t wait to pack up and leave – the place was dead, virtually alcohol free and chock full of eggheads.
That the RCMP would need to dedicate an officer to a remote rural research Institute was never fully understood by Mark’s fellow Constables but the reasons for it had been made crystal clear to him by his superiors. Details of the exact nature of his duties were sparse but certain of his reports were sent directly to Ottawa rather than the nearest regional headquarters in Victoria.
Mark’s goals and personal considerations were different though. Julia had heard about the assignment from a posting in the RCMP News many years earlier and after a lengthy discussion with Mark about his career, his family and his marriage, he agreed to the posting for two years. After that, they would see if it still seemed like heaven.
In Julia’s mind, it seemed a perfect way for her husband to have a career without the danger she perceived was inherent in his job. And it was a wonderful environment in which to raise their two-year old daughter Cindy. Julia was left of center in her politics and liberal in her personal beliefs; a centerpiece of those values was an unshakeable belief in non-violence. Julia loved Mark’s rugged Canadian values, commitment to family and community and his inner strength. But she also detested his chosen profession. It was not, however, a source of conflict in any way in their marriage. Julia, in all their years of life together in Barrows Bay, never once complained about Mark’s work or profession. Not everything, she reasoned, needed to be up for discussion until it needed to be brought up for discussion.
Mark was confident, tough minded and conservative. Police work was all he ever wanted to do, and his values reflected the seriousness with which he approached law enforcement. Though unaware of his wife’s views on so many things, his own views were both vocal and succinct. Mark was, quintessentially, the “what you see is what you get” guy he most often appeared to be. He didn’t mess with the locals and their odd predilections and left their minor transgressions to be sorted out by the Institute without his help.
Mark was an excellent example of ‘community policing’ and a generally acknowledged pillar of the community. He didn’t smoke, drink and use profane language. Though most wouldn’t want to “get into it with him”, he didn’t abuse his badge and authority with the locals. He had “the look” and that was generally sufficient. Most behavioral issues were referred to the Institute or the Prep for resolution.
Mark was a big man, a little over 6’6” but with little need to impose himself in any situation. He listened well, tolerated altered states appropriately and brought most situations under control quickly and peacefully. He rarely had any problems with any of the kids in town, of any age, and the adults were no different. Everyone tried hard to get along, but some conflict was inevitable.
Mark, however, didn’t like Edward and didn’t trust him. And he liked Edward’s Seattle friends even less. He had little regard for Adam, who he felt was a spoiled brat in need of urgent discipline. He loved Rod, who he thought of as the son he never had and could not have been more delighted to have his daughter marry into his favorite Barrows Bay family. Maria and Pops were odd, as he saw it, but warm and loving with proper values – even for Catholics.
Mark, though not particularly religious, was nonetheless a man of Faith who believed in an Almighty God who would bring judgement to the world one day. He still called Catholics “Papists” but truly meant nothing by it. There was no complexity and very little nuance to his life. Mark was happy with things just the way they were.
The one area that gave Mark great pride was his daughter, Cindy. Cindy was much more like her mother than him but not in any of the ways that truly mattered to Mark. From an early age, she was no girly girl.
To Mark, Cindy was the son he never had, making having an actual son completely unnecessary. Rough and tumble, not given to temper tantrums, grounded and clear in her values, Constable Mark romanticised in Cindy the values he believed informed his own youth and adulthood. It was total nonsense, of course, but a belief to which he clung firmly.
At an early age, in part because Cindy’s best buddy growing up was Rod, she formed a life-long interest in the martial arts, ju-jitsu specifically. As she grew older, Cindy’s martial interests broadened into other disciplines and her trophies from competitions grew too numerous to display at home. Though she often competed with Misti, Cindy was th
e star that everyone watched. Edward, Adam and Rod were excellent sparring partners, good workout companions and martial role models but Cindy could take them all. Lightening quick, strong and crafty, Cindy saw the discipline as much as a game of Chess rather than as a purely physical endeavor. Physical she was but controlled in every fiber of her being. Her mental toughness exceeded that of her father and served her well in every aspect of her life.
Cindy was magnificent in his eyes and she was his daughter. He couldn’t have hoped for more, been prouder nor been more blessed.
Cindy, at age twenty-six, was married to a wonderful man, the mother of two beautiful and precocious daughters and quite wealthy. The exact nature of Cindy and her husband’s work within the St. James family business was still a mystery to Mark. But he simply accepted, as did his own family, that some topics were better left alone. After all, the details of his own RCMP assignment were confidential and these were important matters of a nature about which it was improper to inquire. If it was necessary for him to know more, Cindy, or Rod, or both would surely tell him.
Chapter 2
Misti and Adam arrived at Edward’s home minutes ahead of Rod and Cindy, who were perennially tardy for almost everything.
Adam looked at Rod with his ‘where’s mom’ look, then asked the whereabouts of Mom and Pops. “They’re coming?”
“Nope. They’ve been briefed already and have zero interest in the details of how everything worked out, only that the technology did, in fact, work as designed.”
“OK,” Adam said. “What technology are we talking about? Mom had me write some code for something a while back, but the details were sparse. For that matter, what on earth is in New Jersey that attracts both of you?” Adam swivelled around and looked at his father, knowing that his father was probably at the bottom of this whole endeavor.
Rod spoke up, “Dad why don’t you and Misti fill Adam in on the background, then Cindy and I can explain what the field trip to New Jersey was all about. Then we can try to explain the technology that Mom and Pops have been developing for the CIA.”
“I thought we were phasing out the CIA work projects?” Adam then directed the question to no one but Cindy replied curtly.
“Not exactly. That’s more of a long-term goal than a priority at this point. Besides, they pay, they pay big and they like what we can deliver. And, on this one, we were lucky that Mom and Pops were already incubating this little idea with them for some time. When this technology is delivered to Langley, if we ever deliver it, we may need to bake in some safeguards. You’ll see why as we tell you more about the hardware’s functionality.”
Adam looked at Cindy like he was meeting her for the first time. “Jeez Cindy, you’re beginning to talk like them. Does your mother know what you’re doing?”
Cindy smiled blandly. If Julia knew half of what Cindy and her hubby did for a living she wouldn’t have approved. Ditto her father but for completely different reasons.
Adam then turned to Misti, and quietly said “Et tu, Misti? Why am I always the last to know?” Misti gave him an unapologetic look, held his gaze and averted her eyes only when the conversation continued.
Edward interposed, “We all had parts to play in this project and as far as I can see we all did our jobs as expected. We had many items on the list and few friendly and trustworthy hands to count on. It’s too much to ask for everyone to have all the details on what each of us is doing. It’s enough that we all trust each other to do what we know needs to be done. Besides, I specifically told Misti not to discuss this with anyone including you. As well, she understands the bigger picture more than you right now, Adam.”
Adam could’ve strangled his father at that point and then finished off Cindy to boot. “Are you hearing yourselves? Seriously? This is exactly how things get out of hand. And for ignorant reasons.”
He continued, after looking everyone directly in the eye, “What exactly do you think needs to be done, Dad? I mean, what needs to be done here exactly? And who put you in charge of this anyway? If you need or want my help, you will tell me what the purpose of my work is and how you intend to put it to use. I reserve this as a minimum of how I expect you to treat me. I hope everyone’s on board with this concept.”
“We are, Adam.” Rod said. “Anything you want to know, is yours. I promise. But you need to ask if you want to know more about what you are asked to work on. Dad is right that we all have a lot on our plates and not many reliable hands helping. And to calm your wild ass suspicions, the CIA, CSIS and none of the other alphabet agencies will get anything from us until we think it’s safe to do so. And yes, we will all have a say in this. That includes you and Misti, and Mom and Pops. We cool?”
Adam was hot. He had heard this all before from his Dad and it never set well. “I don’t know. I think I need to know a lot more before I can answer that.” Adam sat back in his overstuffed chair and glanced around the room. His displeasure was roiling just below the surface and he was tense from the direction of this conversation and all the apparent secrecy. So many secrets, so much deception. How could this happen? To us? Again?
Adam knew that his own father was at the epicenter of a tangle of secrecy, misinformation, misdirection and half-truths. Nothing had changed in one part of his life while everything had changed in another. It was way past the time for him to find out just how little he knew about the fabric of his own life and future.
Adam was decidedly unhappy that Misti was intimate with the project while he had been kept in the dark. He had bad emotional flashbacks to his teenage years when he felt like the whole world was aware of the decisions affecting his life, save he himself.
While Misti had done him worlds of good filling him in on the why and wherefore of so many things he otherwise felt powerless to entirely understand, the mere fact that she knew more than him about those intricacies left him feeling once again somehow betrayed and somewhat angry. He wasn’t angry with her; he still felt she was the only one who could ever provide him with the answers he sought, if in fact she knew anything more than him. And he felt his wife was infinitely more capable of getting information from the people who did know. So now was just not right time to press.
And he trusted Misti’s judgment that giving him everything she knew all at once right after their romance had begun would probably not have been the best way to go either. He understood his own tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, his issues with anger and resentment and a history of maturation that could charitably be referred to as ‘evolutionary’. Besides, there was no way in the world to press Misti St. James, nee Alarcon, if she was unwilling to talk. There was simply no point and he had to learn to accept this new reality. Which he did.
Nevertheless, he seethed.
Edward began, “The problem is actually easy to describe and is not an uncommon business situation. But the resolution of the associated task is far more complex. And let me state an obvious problem from the outset: some of our activities are most likely illegal and criminal but with virtually no chance of ever being brought to account.” Edward looked around and got no blowback.
Adam had no idea what he was talking about anyway.
“As we have continued our efforts with the data you collected, Adam, we have begun to explore exactly who these Gens folk really are, what they’re up to, where and what it means to the rest of us. We have had some very limited success with unpacking and unravelling the Library, which has given us some amount of background and some insight into what and how they think. But we still don’t understand the implications of what we know, only that we know it. Or that we know something, at least. Even that is somewhat up for discussion as we’re not completely sure we understand what their whole history is and what has led us to this moment.”
“And why exactly is that our business anyway, Dad?” Adam asked, not for the first time. “Maybe they just want to be left alone.”
“I don’t doubt that they do. And, in the end, we m
ay just leave them alone. But before we decide what this all means to us and to them, maybe we should try to determine their exact intentions. Right now, they control the agenda and I just want to have a little more info on precisely what that agenda is.”
Adam interrupted, “You mean if this is even something other than a huge practical joke on us all. How much progress have you made on that issue? What proof do we have about the actual existence of these … what, creatures, beings, vampires?”
“The only person in this room and the only person who consistently refuses to entertain the possibility that this is real – is you. I won’t speak for anyone else but everyone who has read the data you collected has had a ‘holy shit’ moment and the evidence is both mounting and convincing. Direct proof, no. But mountains of verifiable data, documents that are hard or virtually impossible to fabricate and other new research data has suggested strongly that this is no hoax. We are not alone at the top of the food chain, and I for one want to know what our chief top-o-the-food-chain competition is up to. Especially now.”
“New data? What new data?”
“We have field teams doing independent investigations into the most promising leads and verifying claims in the primary data you obtained. We have people looking for the Gens and have hopes of finding and verifying their physical existence.”
“Who?”
“For their safety, and yours, that remains confidential. That topic is closed.”
“So much for full disclosure. You know that I have the highest security clearances possible on the planet, but you still won’t share. This is just the same old standard BS, Dad.”
Edward said nothing. Adam continued, “But you are hunting them, right?”
“We’re not looking to ‘bag’ a Gens, Adam. We merely want physical proof that they do, in fact, exist. Finding them will not be easy. Hell, until only a few months ago, we didn’t have a clue they even existed. It remains a top priority for now. Clearly there is a point we cannot go beyond if we cannot even verify their existence. And numbers.”
Discovery Page 67
