by Ryan Rinsler
“What? That’s it?”
“He did say it was buried, bro.”
Connor rubbed his eyes. “Well, I guess he never planned on using it again.”
“What do we need, like a pneumatic drill?”
“No, no,” said Nolan, “Just a pick axe. Use a pick axe.”
The two of them scrambled around in the junk until eventually Matt found what they were looking for. He climbed clumsily over the mountain of boxes and stood proudly, waiting for instructions. To his dismay Nolan stepped over and took the pick axe from him, and with it sketched an outline of a square on the floor, not more than two feet wide. He handed the pick axe back to Matt and stood back.
Matt readied himself, shaking his arms dramatically and throwing his head from side to side in an attempt to crack it.
“Just get on with it.”
He raised the axe and brought it down heavily, sending sparks and concrete shards flying in all direction, causing all three of them to duck in defense. The thud reverberated around the large building and the tinkling of falling chips followed shortly after.
“It’s a good job no-one’s home,” he said, before striking once more. After three more hits, this time with Connor and Nolan taking shelter behind some shelves, a large chunk of concrete gave way. Matt lodged the pickaxe underneath the lip and levered another large chunk upward, which Connor grabbed and dragged to one side. They stooped and cleared the rubble, revealing a square trapdoor with a gloss black plate in the middle. Nolan walked over and brushed the dust from the plate, then place his hand firmly on it, spreading his fingers. With a hiss the seal broke and the door slid horizontally under the floor, firing a cloud of dust upward. He took no time in climbing into the hole before quickly disappearing down into the darkness. Connor jumped in after him without hesitation.
“Oh, you’re off then,” said Matt.
“Wait there,” called Connor as he descended.
As his foot jarred against the floor he stopped and turned around. It was so dark he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, but he could hear Nolan rooting around somewhere in the blackness. Then there was light. It began in a small spot in the center of the room and grew outward gradually, until it revealed Nolan stood holding a small device which glowed like nothing he had ever seen before. It hurt his eyes to even look at it.
“What the hell is that?” he asked, shielding himself from the glare. Nolan stood on a nearby table and hooked the device into pipe running across the ceiling, which lit up the basement like a thousand watt bulb. Connor surveyed the room. It wasn’t particularly spacious, and the dirty brick walls were lined with dusty, untidy shelves, electronic equipment and pipes hanging from plastic boxes. In the center there were two flat beds, with electronic machinery next to them, the kind you’d find next to a hospital bed. In the middle of the two was a tall, white, pill-shaped tube which stretched up taller than Nolan, with wires connecting it to what Connor assumed to be the ‘brain caps’ he used in Pure Reality.
He took a second to learn Nolan’s features, noticing immediately the troubled years that showed themselves in the contours of his face. His eyes were deep, his skin rough. Veins protruded from his thin skin, his unkempt nails long and yellow.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing to the pill-shaped machine.
Nolan stopped rummaging and looked at it. He put his hand on it and stared at it like a person would look at a photo of a lost lover. He suddenly turned to Connor with a puzzled expression.
“I told you, I’m new to all of this,” he continued.
He received a suspicious stare. “A seeker device.”
“And what’s it for?”
“It connects. It seeks and connects.”
“To what?”
“To hosts. It finds hosts.”
Hosts. He remembered that word from the time he was held hostage in his last Pure Reality session. “They’re people, right? From other universes?”
Nolan frowned with a sigh.
“Are you guys coming back or what?” shouted Matt from above.
“Yeah, we need to get outta here. Nolan are you able to grab everything you need?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go. Tell me what to take.”
Piece by piece they handed electronic equipment, including the heavy Seeker, up to Matt, until Nolan simply began climbing back up the ladder. Connor jumped on the ladder and ascended quickly, to find Nolan had already walked off with half of the gear.
“It’s gonna take both of us to carry this thing, bro.”
Connor grabbed a nearby sack, emptied it of a few old cloths and filled it with the remaining equipment. He grabbed a handle on the Seeker and they made their way clumsily through the darkness.
“Think we should call the cops?” asked Matt as they passed the dead body, both of them avoiding looking at it.
“I’d rather just get outta here. We had nothing to do with it so let’s just leave it.”
“Yeah but if the cops come around and they find our DNA or whatever then they’re gonna come knocking on our door.”
Connor stopped walking and dropped his side of the Seeker on the dusty ground. “We’ve done nothing wrong,” he said. “If they do come around then we’ll tell them what happened.”
“I hit him over the head bro, with a piece of wood. Now he’s dead.”
“Look man, you had nothing to do with him being dead now, so you can tell them the truth. Anyway, you don’t even know if anything will happen yet.”
“Should we see what the cause of death is at least?”
“So you know you didn’t kill him?”
“Well, no, but, yeah it would be nice to know it wasn’t me.”
“It wasn’t. Anyway, what do you want to do? An autopsy?”
“Duh, I dunno bro, look at him?”
“We’re wasting time,” said Connor, grabbing the Seeker again. “It wasn’t you and right now we have plausible deniability, so let’s go.”
They stumbled the remaining distance to the car and lifted the unit onto the pickup bed. Nolan was already sat inside.
“OK let’s get this back to the ranch.”
14
“Now I probably won’t see you before you leave,” said Stanley. “Is there anything you want to ask me or go through before your psycho-evaluation? Anything at all.”
He had to gauge Connor’s reaction, and immediately cut him off if he said anything that may arouse suspicion from anyone who might be watching.
“No, I don’t think so. Thanks Stanley, it’s been great meeting you.”
Shit, they didn’t get to him. What now? I can’t say anything to him, I’m drawing too much heat as it is. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they told him not to say anything, then get in touch with someone else. Or me. Maybe he needs to speak to me but doesn’t want to here.
Realizing there was an awkward silence between them he hurriedly spoke. “Yes you too Mr. Cooper, I’m glad you enjoyed your experience,” he said, handing Connor a business card. “I’d like you to have this in case you have any questions in the future, or have anything you’d like to chat about.”
As he shook his hand he willed his thoughts through his eyes. Call me, Connor. Call anyone.
“Yes of course, thanks,” he replied. His expression of slight confusion as he looked at the card made it clear. They didn’t get to him.
Stanley released his handshake and left the room as calmly as possible, his mind racing and adrenaline pumping. He dove into an empty office and pulled out the BlackBook in his pocket. He had no idea who the owner of the BlackBook was, but it had Ella in as a contact, and that was all that was needed. As he pressed the dial button he looked up and noticed Connor signing out at reception. He stared at him, not knowing what to do, other than will him to keep his head down and stay anonymous. He could feel the sand pouring through his fingers, the last hope drifting away as Connor stepped into the elevator. He had to find a way.
Ella answered. “Yes?”
“Ella it’s Stanley, meet me.” He hung up abruptly and left the room. As he walked, everywhere he turned it felt like someone was looking for him, a thousand eyes following him. Every step he took felt like one step closer to being accosted by a scout and taken downstairs. He walked quickly, flinching with every sound, cautiously glancing into rooms and windows as he made his way out to meet Ella in the bunker. It took no time at all for him to reach Daisy’s Deli, where Ella was waiting for him in the room above the bunker.
“What’s all this?” she asked as they descended the ladder.
“We’ve got problems. It feels like we’re chasing our tails and one step away from being rumbled.”
“You’re just lucky they’re so inept,” she said, taking a seat. “They mustn’t have anything on you or you’d be downstairs by now.”
“Any news on Neil?”
“Nobody’s seen or heard from him since you saw him.”
“You think… you know, you think he’s...?”
“It’s hard to say. If so, then why him and not you? You were there too, and it was your BlackBook.”
He flapped his arms against his side and shuffled around with worry.
Ella sighed and leaned back against the wall. “You never know, it might be unrelated. He’s always been a bit loose in the way he does things. Always a bit ragged. Having the pair of you trying to sort this out was bound to end in at least one of you being taken downstairs.”
Stanley’s cheeks flushed with anger. Forget it, she’s just an asshole. “In the interview the Scout said he had one more thing that he wanted to talk to me about, but changed his mind. Then he said not to leave the center.”
“You think they’d just let you walk around here if they knew what was happening?” Despite her condescending tone, this calmed his nerves. She was right. “I was hoping you’d bring me better news, Stanley. Right now our key to unlocking this thing is about to get on a train home.”
“They might have got to him, we don’t know that.”
“Oh, and we can rely on a guess? What if they didn't? What if you put a three instead of a four and they tried to contact some bus driver from Venezuela? Or worse?”
“I was very careful.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time you screwed up.”
He could feel rage boiling inside him, her disapproving expression prodding his nerves with every roll of her eyes.
“You know what? I’m risking my life here and putting my family in danger. I put the right numbers in.” His words were coming out so fast he barely had time to consider what he was saying. “You’re lucky I even got you involved with this. I could’ve gone to Bob or Alison Chandy but I thought you’d be someone who could help me. Now if you’re gonna just sit there being an asshole then you can stick it up your ass. You’re out of it.”
He caught his breath.
“Wow,” she said. “That was some speech.”
“I mean it, Ella.” He wasn’t letting her off the hook. “I always thought it was something I’d done, you know? Your sighing and… and displeasure at everything. Well, it’s time to start showing some respect,” he said firmly, pointing to the floor.
She didn’t seem to take this too well. Normally at this point he would have folded, but he knew he was right. “Down here I’m the level eight,” he said, tapping sharply on his chest with his finger. “Right now, with this, what I’m doing, I’m in charge.”
Ella sighed, appearing more despondent than annoyed. “It matters that much to you, huh?”
Damn it, I’m being petty, he thought, but he wasn’t backing down now. “What matters to me is that we come up with a way of getting to him without jeopardizing the whole thing, so cut the personal attacks and start thinking about how we do that.”
She smiled slightly. “OK, boss, what are our options?”
“He’s in is post-evaluation at the moment, which means we have about six hours to come up with a plan.”
“First, tell me you haven’t pulled his address.”
“Of course not.”
“Tell me you’ve definitely not pulled his address. You know it flags it and we don’t want anything drawing attention to this guy. It’ll be game over.”
“This isn’t getting us nearer to a plan.”
She smiled again. “OK, wise guy, the only real option we’ve got is to get someone to tail him and try and make contact.”
“That’s way too obvious.”
“You think of any other ideas?”
“If someone buys a ticket for the same train that he’s on, it’ll be flagged,” said Stanley. “They’ll then pull their details and get them in for questioning.”
“Yes, and if there isn’t a legitimate reason for them doing it then it’ll flag the target as well. Game over.”
“Well, I know he’s from Philadelphia.”
“Oh yeah? And how do you know that?”
“I can tell a Philly accent when I hear one,” replied Stanley.
“So we need someone on the books from Philadelphia.”
“Do you know anyone?”
“I know a few,” she replied. “What’s his profile?”
“Single, late thirties.”
“Good, that I can work with. I’ll do some digging. For now just keep out of the Scouts’ way.” Stanley began climbing the ladders. “Oh, and one more thing, did you fix him with Medi’s before he left?”
“Of course,” he groaned, his voice echoing down the shaft.
He walked with a renewed vigor back to the center, buoyed by his firmness with Ella. Long had he been in the shadow of everyone else in the organization, but this was his time to shine. His time to put his head up and be counted.
Lisa was alone in the lab as he cautiously opened the door. She turned around immediately. “Dr. Chen, two men were here again looking for you.”
He tiptoed over to her. “Really? What did they say?”
“They said your location device was still showing as being in your office, and they needed to speak with you. I had to let them in there.”
“Did they take anything?”
“I don’t think so but they wouldn’t let me stay in there while they were in there.”
He marched to his office and swung open the door. Nothing was out of place, not even a pen.
“Also, Dr. Chen, Dr. Letterman came in here.”
“Neil?”
“Yeah, he didn’t say anything. He just came into the lab, looked around and left.”
He burst from the room and jumped in the empty elevator, jabbing the button for the thirteenth floor.
As he reached the level and the doors opened, he stood to one side, peering out carefully. Empty corridors. He stepped out quietly and walked as light and quickly as possible, making barely any noise on the slippery marble tiles. The light was on in Neil’s lab, and Stanley held his breath as he cautiously glimpsed through the window. Neil was in there alone, working on some samples. With a sigh of relief he opened the door.
“Neil!” he whispered loudly, closing the door softly behind him. “Where the hell have you been?”
He didn’t look up.
“Neil!” he repeated, walking up to him quickly. Suddenly he raised his head and glared directly into Stanley’s eyes, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. “Neil?”
“Your presence is required by the agency.”
“What?”
He reached into his pocket and took out his BlackBook.
“Neil, what are you doing?”
He lifted the BlackBook to his ear. “I’m in lab 1304 and have Doct—”
Stanley smashed the BlackBook from his grasp and ran to pick it up. Neil turned around slowly.
“What the hell is wro—” Stanley stopped. It’s begun. Oh my god. It’s started.
Neil began walking toward the lab door, the path to which Stanley quickly blocked.
“Step aside please, Dr. Chen.”
What am I gonna do, what am I gonna do. He looked aroun
d frantically, and with nothing to hand he had no other choice but to swing for him with a punch to the jaw. With a crack Neil staggered to his right and clutched at the side of his face. Stanley panicked having realized what he just did, but had no choice but to hit him again. This time he crashed into a collection of lab stools and sent them flying as he landed on the floor. Stanley glanced around the room. CCTV. Shit. With him being much larger than Stanley he wasn’t about to drag Neil anywhere, so, leaving him lying dazed in a pile of stools he left the room.
I’m digging this hole deeper and deeper, he thought as he raced through the corridors. I need to get out of here. Instead of hitting the button for his own floor, he headed straight for the lobby. He couldn’t stay there any longer. He’d done his part by securing Connor and passing over the next steps to Ella.
The elevator doors opened and he was immediately greeted by a tubby man in a shirt and tie. “Stanley!” he said enthusiastically, putting his arm across his shoulders and forcing him from the elevator. Stanley pushed back and squirmed slightly in defense, but this man was much stronger than he, and without creating a commotion there was no way for him to escape.
“How you doin’ buddy?” he asked loudly. He looked around quickly then lowered his voice. “Come with me, I’m on your team.”
They marched through the lobby and stopped outside the door to a janitor’s office, Stanley glancing around nervously, unsure of whether to trust him. The man feigned the tying of his shoelace and at the same time broke a small electric box from its placement on the wall, then quickly stood up and ushered Stanley into the room.
“You don’t know me but I’m with surveillance,” he whispered, his onion-breath making Stanley almost gag. “I was in the surveillance room when you punched Neil in that lab. You can’t leave the compound, they’ll grab you.”
“You know Neil?”
“I told you,” he said, “I’m on your team. I’ve seen what they’ve done to him as well. Not good”
“And they saw me punch him?”
“They saw something, but didn’t speak much about it. Maybe they thought it was an accident or something, but you can’t take any chances.”
