The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1)

by Potts, Allie

  Juliane had never been on the lowest levels of the building. The space was filled with a raised platform and a series of thick cables and insulated piping. Damien and Eithan stood on the platform in front of the white and chrome tube. The video feed upstairs had only captured the single tube, but in this larger space, Juliane saw that there were several identical components scattered around the dais.

  Conference chairs had been positioned on the ground level and were filled with the various board members. They must have made their way down during her unsuccessful escape attempt. Alan and Sarah flanked Durham, who was seated upright, his eyes glazed and unseeing. Juliane overheard Sarah tell Camille, "It was lucky we found him when we did. Something must have hit him during the initial panic."

  Juliane rushed over to the stage’s edge in front of Damien. She tried to keep panic from flavoring her voice as she gestured for him to come closer. "The world has gone mad," she whispered. "You have to get everyone out of here before it is too late.”

  Damien leaned down and whispered back, “Louis might have disrupted the video, but Eithan and I were able to hear everything. The situation will be under control in no time. Just don’t make any more sudden moves, and let this next part play itself out. We’ll be okay.”

  Alan gestured to the other board members. “Why don’t you share with the group? You’ve got yourself a captive audience.”

  “We had a deal, Alan,” Louis said with the monotone voice of a man defeated.

  “That we did, and I am more than happy to complete my part, but why don’t we first allow Eithan to finish the presentation you so rudely interrupted?"

  Juliane glanced back toward the elevator door. Sarah sneered at her; blue-white light danced along her arm as she brought a single finger up to her lips.

  Eithan turned toward Damien, who shrugged and nodded toward the seated board.

  “Er . . . Ah, well, yes, um, where was I?”

  “You were in the process of telling us all about how you’ve found a way for us all to live forever,” Sarah said as she examined the nails on one hand.

  “Right. Well, yes, I mean in theory. I still have some work to do, but it is promising.”

  “And you need more volunteers for the next round of testing,” suggested Sarah.

  “Precisely.” Eithan seemed much more at ease. Juliane glanced about. Everyone did. How could they possibly think this was business as usual? It was like watching drones.

  “Assuming you are released for additional human testing,” supplied Camille.

  “Of course,” Eithan responded.

  “Isn’t that going to be somewhat of a more difficult problem for you now?” Sarah asked.

  Snippets of forgotten conversation flashed in Juliane's memory like puzzle pieces. Juliane suddenly recalled the scratches on the floor in the room behind the wrecked electronics and pet boutique. “Your lab. It was bombed,” stated Juliane.

  “You and Damien keep saying how smart that woman is, yet she is always the last to figure anything out,” laughed Sarah to a scowling Alan.

  The smile slipped from Eithan’s face. “Yes, yes it was. It was one of a few sites. Luckily, I caught wind of a rumor that activists were targeting my work. I was able to get most of the critical projects out of harm's way, but even so, I have had to deal with significant setbacks.” Eithan glared at Louis. “All thanks to you I presume.”

  Louis shrugged. “You were trying to play God. There were bound to be consequences." Eithan’s eyes bulged, and he scurried toward the steps, only to be held back by Damien.

  “You aren’t above the law, Evans.”

  “Nor are you.” Louis scanned the room, resting his gaze on Alan. “Nor is anyone in this room. I’ve had enough. Tell me why I came down here.”

  “Whatever you say.” Alan laughed. "Where to being, where to being?" Alan said in a singsong voice. “You may want to have a seat.” Alan gestured toward an available chair. Sarah rolled it over, forcing her down into the cushion.

  “I guess we should start back on the day of our first upgrade. You probably remember it as the day you and Juliane first . . . blacked out.

  “I remember that day somewhat differently. Shortly after the procedure, Juliane here started mumbling about connecting with a bird, and the next thing we knew she was running out of the office talking about flying.”

  Juliane felt heat rise on her cheeks. She remembered that initial disorientation combined with an exhilarating sense of freedom.

  “Luckily, I was able to catch her and bring her back to the lab just before she was about to attack a random passerby.”

  Alan began to pace around the room, before stopping to address Juliane directly. “I'll admit it. I began to worry. I grabbed you in a last-ditch effort to capture your attention, and you were back, only you didn’t seem to have any awareness of what you had just done. I realized later that when I reached for you, I did so with more than just my hands. I could sense your mind working. I could feel what you felt. I tried to pull back but was afraid I would only do more damage. Until that moment, I had no idea how fragile you were back then. You were desperate to connect with anything or anyone. But I also understood that I had seen only a fraction of your potential. You just needed a gentle hand to guide you.”

  Juliane didn’t know what to make of Alan’s words. He had to be lying. She would never have lost control like that. She certainly wouldn't have forgotten about it.

  “I worried that you might break if you knew what I had done. All that potential might be wasted, so I figured out how to wipe the memory away. It was surprisingly easy to do. Your subconscious must have wanted the memories gone as much as I did. I knew then what I had previously only suspected. We were destined to be together." Alan grinned, reaching out his hand. "I could have claimed you then," he said, dropping his arm back to his side. "Perhaps I should have, but there were other experiments needing my attention.”

  "And the fact that I was with Louis at the time wasn't at all an issue," said Juliane.

  "Of course it wasn't." Alan gestured toward Louis. “He never saw you as anything more than a casual distraction. Everyone could see that.”

  “Louis loved me,” Juliane responded.

  “You keep saying that, but did you ever hear those words from Louis? Even once? Did you ever ask his friends what he said to them about you?” Alan swung his arm toward Durham. "Because I did." Durham seemed to be frozen in place, oblivious to the exchange. A bead of drool began to descend from the corner of his mouth.

  Juliane glanced at Louis. Alan's a liar, she wanted to scream. It hadn't been like that.

  Louis remained silent. Sarah threw back her head and cackled. Juliane wished she could blast them all away. A machine hummed over in the corner of the room, and she felt a surge of energy.

  “You’ve still not been able to get a hold of that temper of yours. Sarah? Would you mind?”

  Sarah walked over to the machine, which had to be a generator of some sort, and punched a button. The humming ceased, and Juliane felt her energy drain from her body as if her body were a sieve.

  Juliane felt sickened to her stomach. The person prancing about the room was some twisted caricature of her former colleague. It had to be the madness Camille warned them about. She attempted to meet Damien’s gaze; whatever Damien was planning, she wished he would get on with it.

  “So where were we?” Alan glanced at Sarah, who rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes. The factory.” Alan strolled over to Juliane.

  Juliane felt her blood crystallize. She was so tired of whatever game Alan was playing. All she wanted was to leave this room and continue the work that had been so promising an hour ago. She looked longingly toward the elevator door.

  The humor left Alan’s voice. “For this next part, Juliane, I am sorry. I preferred you never knew.”

  He left her side, returning to the center of the room. “As many of you know, Juliane here chose to set up her center of operations in
a region of the world that had less than ideal working conditions.” He paused, and several of the other board members bobbed their heads like marionettes.

  “Recently, she was notified of the tragic ending of a simple line worker. A day after this tragic event, she came to me looking for a confident. A shoulder to cry on.“ Alan paused.

  Juliane imagined that she possessed a quiver of poisoned darts. That wasn't how it happened. How could anyone believe any of this? The panic she felt earlier paled against her desire to find a way remove that smug expression from his face.

  “There had been other messes, but this one felt different.”

  Juliane fantasized about tying Alan to a post and burying him in the ground up to his neck only after dribbling honey all over his body.

  “It didn’t take much convincing on her part before I was booked on the next flight out.” Juliane glanced toward the door. Death by ants was not nearly enough for a liar like him. Perhaps she would need to slice him up with a million paper cuts and then dose him with a spray of lemon juice.

  “I arrived at dawn and met with the inspection committee. I originally had signed on for the trip, only in the role of a concerned friend, but within the first few minutes, it became clear that Juliane was not going to be satisfied with a few signatures on a report. She had made it clear that heads should roll.”

  Juliane decided that being eaten alive by ants was too easy. No, Alan needed to truly wish for death before she was done with him. Perhaps it would be better to tie him to a post and remove each lung individually like the Vikings had done centuries before.

  “As I was in discussions with the welcoming committee, I caught sight of a man scribbling on a notepad. I knew what would happen if the story got out, but I must not have been the only one to notice. Another team showed up. I assumed they were third-party inspectors. They told me to wait outside while they took care of the matter per Juliane's wishes.”

  Even though Alan was twisting events, his words cut close to her darkest fear. Could the threats she made in the virtual world actually been the cause behind the massacre at the factory? The audio from the recording came tumbling back in her mind.

  “Oh please God! Help me! There are bodies everywhere. Help me! Please!” She listened again to the popping sound in between the whispers. “ . . . to find me. You’ve got to do something. I can hear”—more pops and screams—“getting closer! Do something! Do something! Oh God! No!”

  When she had listened to it the first time, she had thought the sounds of the screams would be permanently lodged in her brain. Could it be possible that she was in some way responsible for pulling the trigger?

  No, Alan had to still be lying about everything. The Viking death would be too quick. The Persians had it right. She would lock him in a box and cover him with a combination of milk and honey. Flies would then visit, depositing their eggs. The larvae would then begin to devour him days later.

  “An hour later, they brought me down to the factory floor. Her entire staff was there, and the people with me opened fire on them. It only took a few seconds to decimate the first rows. What could I do?" Alan shrugged.

  "It was one of those moments where you have to decide whether you want to do the wrong thing and live or the right thing and die. I’ll have to live with my decision for the remainder of life, but up until today, thanks to my kindness, Juliane wasn't going to have to."

  “Enough,” shouted Juliane. “This entire story is ridiculous. The fire at the factory was an accident. It had to be just a terrible accident.”

  "An accident. Just like when the generator exploded and just happened to burn Louis's wife, and only Louis's wife." Alan shrugged. “I am not surprised that you don’t want to accept these events, but it doesn't make them any less true.”

  Juliane glanced around the room for support and once again found none. Those in chairs nervously fidgeted as if afraid to make eye contact.

  Juliane turned toward Louis. He recoiled.

  She pulled her hand back instantly. “You can’t possibly believe him.” Juliane reduced her voice to a whisper. “You know me. You know I’m not capable of something like that. Anything like that.”

  Louis met her gaze. “When we first met, nothing was going to stand in your way. Why should I think that you would be any different now?”

  “But he’s describing a brutal massacre of hundreds,” she shouted.

  “Hundreds that you probably considered beneath your notice, or worse, a threat to the idea of your legacy.” Louis’s eyes tightened. “I’ve seen firsthand how you respond to those who threaten you.”

  Juliane stared into his eyes, urging him to take back his words. Instead, Louis turned toward Alan, showing her his back.

  Alan laughed. "So, Juliane, still convinced you two were meant to be together?"

  “It doesn’t matter what she thinks," Louis said. "None of this does." A small beeping sound emitted from Louis's pocket. He smiled as he unfastened the buttons of his shirt. A large belt fitted with wires was exposed as he pulled back one side of the garment. Louis pulled another device from his pocket and held it out for everyone to see.

  “It seems your time is up, Alan," Louis said with a smile. "That sound tells me that my associates have now placed devices similar to the one I am wearing near key structural positions throughout the building. I will only have to press this button to bring this entire building down."

  Louis nodded toward the other members of the board who were looking around as if wondering how they had gotten into the room. “I wasn't originally going to target all of you, at least not at the same time, but when Alan invited me down here, it was just too tempting of an offer. However, I am not the monster some of your associates are. I'm willing to make a deal. If Alan tells me what happened the night of Elena's death to my satisfaction, I'll give the rest of you a sporting chance at survival."

  “Tell him what he wants to know!” screeched Camille. She ran up to Alan, pulling him by his sleeve.

  As if Camille can force Alan to do anything he doesn't already want to do, Juliane thought. Camille would have had more luck convincing a shark that tofu was the better option for dinner.

  Others in the room began pressing their backs against their chairs as if a few inches of distance could help save them. Juliane's stomach twisted. Damien, however, remained on the dais, looking as confident as he had from the time she entered the room. "Anytime you want to take charge, Damien," she muttered.

  Juliane glanced at Alan. Alan appeared to be leaning toward Louis and the device. The smile plastered on his face was one of satisfaction, not madness. Alan wasn't acting surprised. He met her gaze, and his smile deepened. No, if anything, Alan had anticipated this development. For all she knew, he had orchestrated all the events leading up to this moment. But why? Why would he want to put them all in a position to be blown to bits?

  Sarah equally looked nonplussed, although paler than usual. She must have had some inclination of what could potentially occur today.

  “Now, Alan, I’ve been more than patient with you. Tell me what I want to know . . . now.”

  “First, send Juliane over. She’s proven to have more than a few tricks up her sleeves, and I would hate for her to miss the rest of the show."

  “You two really were made for each other.” The disgust rolling off Louis’s tongue was palatable. “You want her so badly even after all you say she’s done? Fine. She’s yours.” Louis shoved Juliane painfully toward Alan’s outstretched arms.

  Alan whispered into her ear as he claimed her abused wrist, “You have always been mine.”

  Thirty Nine

  “Now that is settled, where were we? Oh yes, you want to know about the night of your unfortunate accident.” He nodded to Sarah, who proceeded to adjust the controls on the video monitor. “You’ve already been told what happened, but as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.”

  Still pulling painfully on Juliane’s wrist, he dragge
d them both over to an open chair and forced her down into its seat.

  “You should know that Damien is very invested in the Sharks organization and takes the security and safety of his players extremely seriously. And, as any responsible owner, he had positioned several security cameras throughout the facility. Some of these cameras are fairly obvious, and that public footage he freely shared with the police. However, there are other cameras that are more innocuous.”

  Alan paused as the image on the screen transitioned to a playback. The time and date stamp was clearly visible to all. Louis and Elena could be seen sashaying down the corridor, their arms interlocked. Louis stumbled and Elena pulled him back upright. Louis could be seen throwing his head back in laughter as the two stumbled out of the camera’s field of vision.

  “Just what are you trying to prove with these? I freely admit that I was at the game and that I had enjoyed myself, but I know how to pace myself otherwise everyone would have heard a different story when the toxicology report was published.”

  The video flashed, and the time stamp showed the image to be only a few minutes from the first scene. This time, Louis and Elena were one of the several couples loitering in the concession lobby. It had to be halftime and the moment of their confrontation. Juliane had no sooner placed the scene when the crowds parted and she could see Alan and herself.

  There was no sound, but their body language spoke volumes. A security guard entered the shot several feet away. Juliane hadn’t realized that their conversation had been noticed, but it must have raised at least one person’s concern.

  Juliane watched as Louis fell on her with Alan pushing him back toward Elena. It was just a moment, but in that moment, Alan’s body flickered and the video feed was temporarily disrupted by static. Louis and Elena were already on their way when the static cleared.

  There was something different about Louis though. His steps, as they moved back toward the concession line, were straight and sure. Elena, on the other hand, appeared even more intoxicated. It was Louis’s turn to provide additional support.