by Dane, Max
Also by Max Dane
Forever Lost
The Dane Commission
By
Max Dane
Rev3: The Dane Commission is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Jerry Cochran
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book and or portions thereof in any form.
Cover art Copyright 2013 by Jerry Cochran
Prologue
Two severely dressed young men carrying briefcases, waited outside the President’s office. Without realizing it, they had prepared for this moment for most of their lives.
“Well, Dr. Frances,” said Steve smiling broadly, “Are you ready to pitch your idea to the President of the United States?”
Sid grinned, “Look Steve it can’t be any harder than the time we had to speak to the programmers guild. They wouldn’t stop asking ridiculous technical questions. I don’t think I said two words the whole night.”
Steven laughed quietly, “I remember. I nearly lost my voice trying to keep up.”
“But we did it Steve, we won.”
Time slowed as Steven paused and looked on his friend. It was a moment that would stay in his mind for the rest of his life; the picture of his friend, his colleague, the man who was going to change the world, change mankind forever. His crazy college roommate and his vision for a better world had swayed believers and dissidents alike, gathering followers from universities and corporations around the world. And now they were here.
“Sid, you know he’ll be under pressure to help you.”
“Of course,” said Sid smiling, “This is really more of a formality than a meeting, it’s all part of the design. We did this, you and I.”
Steven understood the true depth of their proposal, of Sid’s mission. He felt the full weight of what they were about to do. Following this meeting everything would change, not just for them, but for everyone. Humanity would change.
“Steve, I swear you look nervous,” said Sid, “Are you afraid he’ll say no? We’ve already been through this-”
Steve shook his head, “No Sid, I’m afraid he’ll say yes.”
For just an instant Sid looked puzzled, Steven almost laughed out loud. It wasn’t often Sid looked confused.
“You’re afraid of all of the work that we’ll have to do next?”
“Maybe, I’ve enjoyed our time together and that will surely change.”
“But that’s not it,” said Sid still trying to understand.
“No.”
Steven considered, trying to explain the dangers of driving technology too quickly, pushing forward when the outcome was so unpredictable. But it was too late now, too much was in motion. Instead he smiled and reached up to center his friend’s tie.
”There, that’s better,” he said smiling again.
From across the room, a woman said, “Dr. Frances, Mr. Ranks, the President will see you now.”
CHAPTER 1
“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
- T. S. Eliot
He was late.
Ryan didn’t like to be late, and had that same sour feeling in his stomach he always got when things were starting to spin out of control. The border collie his wife had purchased less than a year ago was staring at him with a full-on expression of love and fealty, while it sat on the couch reeking of whatever dead thing it had rolled in outside.
There was no time for this.
The dog had already worn thin on Ryan, and this was another black ball in a growing jar. He opened the back door, and in his most commanding voice said, “Out.” The one word worked, rousing the dog and edging him out the door.
Pleased that the dog hadn’t jumped on him, he moved past the couch headed to the garage, pausing only briefly to note the lingering smell.
The day was not starting well.
Filled with a stubborn dose of anxiety mixed with adrenaline, Ryan was on his way to a job interview at the Sid Frances’ IntelliHealth Research Hospital. Out of work for more than six tortuous months, his path to redemption was this opportunity. Moving quickly through the morning hover traffic, he gripped the wheel tightly and pushed hard to make up the lost time. He would not be late, not today.
In the distance he could see the spire of the massive IntelliHealth facility, towering over the rooftops of the city. At more than two hundred and fifty stories, their research hospitals were hard to miss.
Following a white-knuckle ride around and through the morning the traffic, Ryan arrived at the facility and hurtled past the front gate into the parking lot. He looked up through his windshield, but was unable to see the top of the building. It wasn’t until he got out of the car and looked up, that the true size of the thing hit him. The top was actually hidden in the clouds overhead. Like a giant sundial, the shadow of the great thing lay across the city blotting out the sun every day for the people to the west.
Closing his door, he made way quickly through the cars to the front entrance and finally to the front desk. Everything was made of chrome and glass. The guards behind the front desk were friendly enough, but aggressively determined to know why he was here. Ryan handed them his identification chip carrying his invitation for the interview.
”Very good Mr. Dane,” said the first guard handing Ryan’s chip back.
“You are scheduled to report to room 75ConfB.” Nodding to the second guard, the man stepped out and led him to an open elevator.
”Mr. Dane, do you have any questions?”
“No thanks, I’m fine,” Ryan said as silvery, steel doors closed silently between them.
Ryan was alone in the elevator. The whole inside was mirrored, oversized and without any identifiable control panel.
‘Where are the damn buttons?’ he wondered looking everywhere. He lightly touched the wall thinking he could feel movement, a slight vibration maybe but so light that he wasn’t sure. After a few moments, he wondered if there had been some sort of mistake.
“Um, hello? Excuse me, I can’t seem to find the-” he said, cut off as the doors opened to reveal a large electronic display on the wall just outside. It read ‘Floor 75,’ in glowing red text.
Stepping out, he suddenly felt very comfortable.
In contrast to the stark techno image of the lobby and elevator, this floor was home to cubicles, offices and conference rooms. The temperature was warmer, and the background noise was considerable. Everywhere he saw crowded aisles with people talking, and walking about.
Moving forward, and looking down an aisle he could see papers on the floor, someone’s wastepaper basket filled with envelopes and binder wrappings. A pen hung from a piece of yarn next to a tablet displaying a list of names. Phones rang and copier machines were humming in the background. Artificial plants and missing light bulbs in the ceiling, all welcomed him.
Ryan smiled, this was home.
A youngish woman with black hair and bearing an unhurried demeanor approached Ryan.
“Are you here for the administrator position?”
“Yes, I’m Ryan Dane, and I‘m supposed to meet with-”
“Mr. James, and Ms. Allen?” said the girl, cutting him off.
“Yes, that’s right. Am I late?”
“No, not really. Besides we’re running a little late today, ourselves,” she said.
“Please have a seat in that conference room over there.” She pointed to a room across the foyer with a tag t
hat read 75ConfB over the door.
“I’ll let them know you’re here, and they’ll be with you shortly.”
He looked up to say thank you, but she was already gone; lost somewhere in the papers and cubicle walls.
Walking to the conference room, he stepped inside where a long table surrounded by a lot of empty chairs, waited. He had picked up a habit from years of meetings to look for the tallest chair in the room. On quick survey, he found what he was after, and took a seat. Smiling, he sorted through his things.
The room held the usual trappings; pictures of company people and places and plaques for nondescript awards adorned the walls. All very common.
And then there was a very large monitor.
These days it was common to see large view screens for nearly any application, but this was something different. It covered one wall and there seemed to be some sort of crystalline quality to a thick glass case that enclosed it. Obvious speaker plates were positioned at top and bottom.
‘Would someone answer if I said hello?’ he thought.
But before he could test that idea, a sharp dressed man and woman entered the room.
“Good morning Mr. Dane, Ryan isn’t it?”
The tall looking man stepped forward to shake Ryan’s hand.
“I’m Ben James, and this is Ms. Dorothy Allen,“ he said, “Dorothy represents the Hospital Patient Services Division, and I speak for the Information Services Department.”
After the usual light greetings, the pair got settled across the table from Ryan. Not hesitating at all, Ms. Allen began.
“Ryan, this position has become necessary because we find that we have a problem. You see our research data is constantly sorted alongside our patient data. It should always be perfectly correlated. It has always been this way,” she said, pausing only to look at Mr. James, with obvious disdain, “and yet now it is not.”
Looking back to Ryan, she continued, “We are currently experiencing points where the data doesn’t match up. I’m told that the cause is elusive. So much so, that we cannot find a reason for these errors. However, we are very concerned; while few in number, these mistakes could potentially alter a patient’s treatment and cause grievous harm.”
“Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. James, responding a little too quickly.
“Information Services wants to help, but from our perspective everything seems to be functioning as it should. We have made a thorough audit of the database ourselves and found nothing amiss.”
The obviously frustrated Ms. Allen responded, “Yes of course, but from our perspective the problem persists and is clearly in the purview of Information Services.” She paused, collected herself, and smiled at Ryan.
“So you see our dilemma.”
“How many years of data are you talking about?” Ryan asked.
Unexpectedly, the air was suddenly pierced with a new voice responding to their conversation. Startled, Ryan dropped his pen.
“Fifteen years, three months and seven days,” said a metallic voice at a volume slightly too high and a pitch slightly too low. It was not a copy of a human voice, not exactly. It reminded Ryan of a woman’s voice, perhaps one that had been reduced in pitch.
Ben James spoke up, “Sorry about that Ryan, I forgot to introduce Sid.”
Turning to the screen, Ben said, “Sid, please introduce yourself.”
“Of course,” said the invisible voice, and immediately the huge display came to life showing a black background, and presenting the IntelliHealth logo floating in the middle.
“Greetings Mr. Dane. I am SID, short for Scientific Intelligence Deployment. I cooperate with the greatest research scientists around the world to interpret biotechnological science and organize resources for best support of mankind.”
“Sid is here to represent the research component to our problem,” Mr. James added under his breath. Ryan thought he looked annoyed.
“At this moment I am simultaneously attending eleven meetings around the world,” said Sid in a booming voice, “My interest in this meeting is limited to a common understanding that the problem described by these two departments is local in proximity, and limited in scope. The underlying fault is assuredly with a failure in one data construct poorly designed to interact with another. I am confident the issue can be resolved quickly.”
Ryan addressed the disembodied voice, “So essentially you have a mismatch in two databases that needs to be worked out, and someone able to speak the language of both departments to identify it.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Mr. James, “Your background seems to indicate that you would be very well suited to work as liaison between our departments. Don’t you agree Dorothy?”
Looking at her electronic tablet, quickly pushing numerous virtual buttons, she paused and looked up.
“You do seem like a good fit Mr. Dane. Let's talk about some of the details specific to the software.”
The interview was uneventful with questions about experience, and hypothetical scenarios intended provoke insightful responses. But nothing more was heard from SID. Ryan carried on well enough, and thought the points he made were acceptable. But he couldn’t help drifting from the conversation occasionally to glance at the giant crystal screen. He wondered if the artificial voice was still listening.
’Would it speak again?’
Very shortly, it ended as they often do, somewhat anticlimactic. Ryan had known it would be unlikely to receive an offer today, but couldn’t help but feel a little dejected when he shook hands to leave.
“Thank you for coming Mr. Dane, you will hear from us regarding our decision soon. Ms. Holmes will see you out.” Ryan was ushered from the conference room by the same woman who had met him earlier.
Ms. Holmes led him through the front entry area to the elevators.
“It usually takes them about two weeks to settle on someone, but I know they are under a lot of pressure to get this position going.”
She smiled, and handed him a business card. “It was nice to meet you Ryan; I hope we will be seeing more of you around here.”
It was the usual exit talk, maybe a little nicer than some.
He turned to leave and found the elevator already open.
He stepped inside and as the doors closed, he found himself the only passenger again, and again wondered about the lack of buttons inside. And once more, as he was trying to figure out how to make it work, the doors abruptly opened on the lobby. Feeling relieved he stepped out, and exited the building to find his car. As he walked his thoughts turned back to the interview, the conversation and the questions, and his answers.
He paused just once to look back.
His eyes naturally followed the edges of the building up and up, and higher still.
The sun peeked around the top and blinded him momentarily.
He cupped his hands around his eyes.
’That’s a tall son-of-a-bitch.’
That night Ryan made dinner for Jean and Alex.
Jean was a scanner-processor for a local physicians’ outpatient facility not far from IntelliHealth. In the old days they would have called her an X-Ray technician. Now, with breakthroughs in human biology and fast particle arrays, you could scan a person while they sat and talked with you, yielding information about nearly every system and every state of the human body.
There were still flaws, though. Jean would say that the scans could reveal anything, but were useless without knowing where to look, and for what element.
Asking the right question was everything.
Jean knew friends and doctors that worked in the IntelliHealth Facility and thought they seemed happy enough there. Meanwhile, Alex was happy there would be a new episode of ‘Monsters Lost and Found’ on the vid later.
Afterwards, Ryan collected the dishes.
Jean asked what the smell on the couch was. Ryan smiled, and pretended not to hear her, as he rinsed the last of the dishes.
When they finally went to sleep, Ryan dreamed of gian
ts walking the earth.
CHAPTER 2
The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
- Robert Frost
It was nearly two weeks to the day, that Ryan got the call.
It was the IntelliHealth human resources office calling to speak with him regarding a new position. Mustering all of his reserves and doing his best not to sound too excited, he answered, “Hello, this is Ryan Dane.”
“Good morning Mr. Dane, we are pleased to say that you have been selected to join IntelliHealth as our new Information Strategist II, and would like to know if you have any questions.”
The rest of the phone call was a blur.
Following a very excited phone call to his wife, left to pick his son up from school. He was still slapping the dash and punching the air when he almost ran over a small woman crossing the street. Waving apologetically while smiling hugely, he realized he would need to set up after-school care for Alex. Aside from the near miss, things were definitely looking up.
