CHAPTER FOUR
Collins tried to regulate his breathing. It would not do to let the General know how much he resented losing control over the investigation. He would be the ultimate colleague, helpful to a fault. And when the General failed, which was inevitable, he would take it all back. It was all a matter of patience and a straight face. There was no way in hell that the military would take the credit for the project, not after all he had invested in this undertaking.
Rounding the corner to his office, the doctor was instantly taken aback by the presence of the military force. He had expected a small contingent of maybe two or three scientists and the General with maybe one or two additional soldiers. More than twenty people filled the hallway. The majority of them were soldiers in full battle gear. One even had a vicious looking dog straining at the leash. Heavily armed, they all turned to glare at him as he approached. The canine growled. Hanging on to the barest threads of his composure, Collins opened the door and entered his own outer office.
Sally, his assistant, immediately clamped a hand around his arm to stop him from moving on to the inner office. ‘He’s on the secure line and can’t be disturbed’ she whispered. Taking one more step towards the door, but reluctantly recognising the urgency in her voice, he stopped and turned. The arrogance of the man—locking him out of his own office. Looking around the small anteroom, he forced himself to calm down. He was in his own territory now. There were much bigger windows here than in the cells, with a view of the park-like grounds around the institute. The walls were painted in a soft apricot, to mimic the adobe style that was so popular in this area. In the cells the impression was of a clinical institution, far away from the inhabited world. Maybe even on an island somewhere. The truth was that the institute was hidden in a beauty spa in a residential part of the suburbs; a hide-a-way for the rich. The grounds were reasonably secure. The laboratory was impenetrable but in a non-imposing way. The paying residents were unaware of the tests performed in this part of the clinic; unbeknownst they were acting as the blissfully innocent front to it all. That of course would all change now that the military had arrived in such ridiculous numbers. What was the use of all this force? They were not even attempting to disguise their arrival, hadn’t they been briefed? There would be hell to pay.
Through the window Collins could see that the military vehicles and even more guards outside had already attracted a small group of nosy residents. The phone rang. Sally ran to her desk and pressed the button on the receiver next to her ear. ‘Heaven Valley spa, Sally speaking,’ she answered in a clear and composed voice. ‘How can I help you?’ Even from where he was standing, Collins could hear the agitated voice on the other end of the line.
‘Please calm down, Mr. Stark.’ Susan managed to get a word in. ‘The military are only here with regard to an investigation that we are helping them with.’ She looked at Collins helplessly—an unspoken plea in her eyes—how could she explain the presence of such an excess of military force? As paying customers, the residents expected to be pampered and kept away from all the disquieting realities of the outside world—not to be confronted with violence and the ugly real world on their doorstep. Collins shrugged and turned away from his assistant, leaving her to think up an acceptable story. His thoughts once again turned to the specimen, how would he be able to keep the General from knowing all there was to know about the creature? How would he keep on top of it all?
He wandered over to the door of his inner office, trying to hear what was being said on the other side. But the doors and walls were soundproofed. At his request, to offer absolute privacy when he had visitors or was entertaining. He heard nothing. Just as he turned to walk back to the water cooler, the door opened suddenly. He was startled, and it showed.
The doorway was filled with the presence of the General.
‘Ah Collins, just the man I wanted to see.’ His manner was pleasant, almost friendly. But Collins had heard stories about this man and was not about to let his defences down.
Walking past the General, he entered his own office. He hesitated for a moment. Where was he supposed to sit? The General solved the problem for him by closing the door and sitting in the leather seat behind the desk, forcing Collins to sit in the chair in front of his own desk. Both were equally aware that this was the first clash in the power struggle and the General was now ahead by one point.
‘Thank you so much for the use of your office.’ He said sweetly. ‘As of now these are the headquarters for the military side of the operation.’
An agitated Collins muttered ‘You’re welcome’ neither of them giving any credit to the statement. Collins was surprised at the distance the desk and the elevated seat created, making him actually feel small. Insignificant. The General was observing him intently. This unsettled him even more and he felt compelled to speak.
‘We weren’t expecting you until next week’ he attempted feebly. ‘Then we could have readied everything for you and your staff.’ He refused to call them soldiers.
‘No worries.’ The General smiled at his discomfort. ‘My men and I will feel at home here before the end of the day.’ His hard stare unnerved Collins. Silence was a mighty weapon when used correctly. And sure enough, the doctor’s insecurity increased, and he flustered to take control.
‘Why are all these soldiers with you?’ he demanded in what he hoped was an authoritative tone. ‘Our residents will need an explanation’.
The General dismissed the demand with a wave of his hand. ‘I’m sure that you will think of something, you can always blame the revolutionaries.’ He shuffled the papers on the desk. Collins saw that many of them were test reports, MRI- and brain scans from the specimen.
‘Bring me up to speed.’ The General ordered. ‘The results that I have here are depressing, what is the status?’ The ground opened up beneath Collins. Depressing was an understatement. In the more than four years that she had been here, no real advancement had been made.
‘The specimen arrived here some four years ago, we commenced the tests…’ The General stopped him in full sentence.
‘The abbreviated version please doctor, I’ve read her file. What have you actually achieved in those years.’ His tone was accusative.
Visibly rattled, Collins stammered. ‘We have tested everything we could. We have a very competent staff, but she won’t cooperate.’ When cornered blame someone—or in this case—something else.
The General softened his approach. ‘My dear doctor Collins, I have no doubts that you and your staff did all you could. But you must agree that the results have been painfully absent, the powers are getting nervous, they want results for their investments.’
His tactics worked, the doctor was lulled into compliance. The real enemies were the specimen and the powers. The man was so easily manipulated it was pathetic. What a schmuck.
‘She thwarts all our tests’ the fatigue was back again. ‘No matter what we try, we don’t get any nearer to the workings of her healing abilities, or to her longevity. She is now almost one hundred years old but looks barely thirty-five. Though we are certain that the two things are related. We’ve found out that the healing capabilities are intensifying.’ This caught the Generals attention. Collins continued, glad that he had something positive to say. ‘When she came here the healing procedure took much longer than it does now. Any wounds that we administer heal within twelve hours now, scars are gone within twenty-four hours.’
‘Any Wounds?’ The General raised an eyebrow. ‘Describe the extent of the injuries.’
‘We tested her with inch deep scalpel cuts on her torso and her extremities—length up to ten inches. We taped the healing process, I can show you the streams if you want?’ When the General didn’t react, he continued. ‘We also observed that her strength is increasing dramatically. She is much too strong for a female, no matter what age.’
The General was quiet throughout the rest of the narrative. He was becoming more and more interested in the side effects of what the
Doctor called “the major question”. The doctor and the pharmaceutical companies were only interested in marketing eternal youth. They had pumped millions into research in the last two centuries with no obvious results, and then to everyone’s surprise, this creature crossed their path—an unexpected break.
What he saw was the full potential for her—unbeatable soldiers, an immortal army that could heal itself. The opposition, any opposition, would be stamped out. Whoever controlled her talents controlled the world. He had always scoffed at the thought of world domination. But the idea was getting comfortably more realistic the deeper he was involved in this project. The powers-that-be had no idea what treasure they held here. All he had to do was succeed where this annoying overbearing scientist had failed.
But he was walking a tightrope.
Though still formally in service to the government, he had transferred his allegiance to the pharmaceutical companies. As so many military personnel did these days, he moonlighted. And, due to the pathetic incompetence of the government, moonlighting took up more of his time than his official duties. Sometimes the two goals coincided, and he served both his employers with one action. Fighting the rebels for instance. This was in the best interests of both of them. But in the end his main allegiance was to himself. To his own ideals and objectives in life.
The bitter war between rich and poor was a godsend for him, and he once again thanked his diligence and eye for a good money-making deal. Even the rich were now anxious about the shortage of energy. Their lifestyle was on the line, and they paid him to make a difference. It had been this way for the past decade. It was time to restore order, crush the incompetents and give the power back to the strong, the responsible politicians and most of all—to him.
This was the situation when Gareth Bremmer, CEO and founder of GB Inc, the largest pharmaceutical company in America, contacted the General.
‘My major concern is for the continuance of the company.’ Bremmer said in their first face-to-face interview. ‘I look further to the future. Once this unpleasant situation has been resolved, and believe me it will be, we will need a new focus for the majorities.’ He was a silver haired man, with an almost military bearing. A strong man, the General recognised— a dangerous man, with more than one agenda.
‘The decimation of the undesirables in this world will open more opportunities and resources for the rest of us. The war and LKX will do that for us. As long as we make sure that the power stays where it belongs, in the hands of the capable.’
He sat behind a magnificent oak desk bigger that the General had ever seen. The whole encourage was designed to impress the visitor. To show how immensely important the owner of this office was and how reverent the visitor should be. The General understood the first but refused the last. Bremmer needed him, so the distance in stature was smaller than the CEO would like it to be. He detested speaking to this obnoxious bully in a uniform. It was necessary, but he flatly refused to hide his distaste for the General, who in turn welcomed the sentiment. It was mutual.
‘There will be a shortage of competent men in the new situation. That means that we must make sure that the good genes that are available will be able to propagate long enough to repopulate the world as we see it.’ Bremmer continued his high and mighty speech. ‘For this we must elongate the life span. We need the ultimate cure.’ He stared the General in the eye. ‘We are quite frankly in the process of developing a cure for death.’ He paused for drama. Reluctantly he added, ‘the project is however encountering some problems and will miss its deadlines. Mutual acquaintances suggested I put you in change. I want you to take over and make sure that it delivers on time.’
The General saw the potential for the specimen at that precise moment. During the rest of the meeting he listened intently. Looking for Brenner’s hidden agenda and slowly constructing his own. That had brought him here—to the spa—to deal with such incompetents as Collins. He let the man rattle on a bit longer. He had heard all there was to know. The scientist was an idiot, as expected.
‘This resulted in the brain scan that you have in front of you.’ Collins babbled on. ‘The initial analysis indicated the...’
‘Where is the subject now?’ The General rudely interrupted Collins who was immediately silenced, stung by the unbelievable lack of manners.
‘She is in the interrogation room—a small cell in the basement.’ The doctor stammered.
‘In what state?’ The General asked.
‘She was cut, has been up for more than fifty hours and is exhausted. We are trying to break her.’
The General looked up from the papers. ‘Let her get some rest and heal, I will speak with her tomorrow or the day after.’ The meeting was over, the dismissal clear. The General pressed the intercom button. ‘Susan, will you ask Major Dimage to come in please?’ The General stood up and walked out from behind the desk. The door opened, and a military man entered. He saluted the General and stood to attention, ignoring the scientist.
‘Ah Major, this is Dr Collins. He will be assisting you in your tests.’
‘I’ll be Assisting?’ Collins blustered standing up. ‘This is my project. Surly he will be assisting me?’
‘You have proven yourself incapable of leading this project Dr Collins, so the Major will take over. I am sure that you have no problem with that, otherwise I suggest you explain to Mr. Bremmer why there is such a distinct absence of results.’ The gloves were off. The General moved the scientist towards the door. ‘I demand result. Get them.’ The “or else” silent, but clearly implied. The Major saluted once again and strode through the opening after the confused doctor, closing the door behind them.
CHAPTER FIVE
She was standing in the dimly lit cell. Trying to sleep on her feet without anyone noticing. The young doctor came into the room again and moved the chair around the table to her side.
‘You can sit down’ he said softly ‘have something to eat and then we will bring you back to your room where you can sleep.’ Silence followed. ‘The military have arrived. The General wants to speak with you tomorrow.’
The door opened, and a white clad assistant entered the room with a tray of sandwiches and some water. She looked at the plate of food, not trusting the scientists. He placed the tray on the table, turned around and walked out of the door. She expected something to happen. This had to be another game they were playing with her. But the young doctor motioned her to sit and eat.
Slowly she lowered herself into the seat and let the smell of the food waft into her sensitive nose. She could not detect any strange smells, just the bread and cheese. With the dramatic improvement in her senses in the last few years, she could detect acidic elements quite easily. They had tried to drug her before, so she was careful. But she was also weary and extremely hungry. She started out with small bites and then wolfed down the food. The water was hardly enough to quench her thirst.
‘There will be more in your room’ the doctor offered. He knocked on the door and two assistants entered to escort her to her cell.
CHAPTER SIX
I lay down on the cot in my cell and tried to figure out what they were playing at.
Why had they stopped now?
In earlier sessions they had kept me on my feet for more than sixty-five hours. Must have something to do with the military.
I tried to think about the new situation and how I would be able to steel myself for what was to come. But I was too tired and besides I really didn't have a clue.
I closed my eyes and slept.
All too soon the lights came back on in the cell and the door opened. Once again, a tray with food was offered and placed on the small table to the right of the cot. No utensils, they had stopped that when I tried to escape.
I got up off the cot and moved to the back of the cell where there was a small lavatory and sink, still expecting some kind of betrayal. But it didn’t come, and all remained quiet. I returned to the tray, ate my breakfast and waited.
About thirt
y minutes later the door opened again and one of the assistants motioned me to follow him. There were two soldiers standing outside the door, one took the point and the other followed our little procession. The assistant took me to the shower room, handed me soft white towels and left. One of the soldiers remained. I hadn’t expected all of them to leave. Privacy was not something I had enjoyed in the past years.
He sneered as I undressed and unabashedly scanned my body. I resolved to ignore him and enjoy the hot water as it cascaded down my back. The heat invigorated me and almost made me feel whole again. The food, sleep and now the water did wonders for me. My strength was coming back. I flexed the muscles in my arms and back, much to the amusement of the soldier.
After my shower I dressed in the new shifts the assistant had left. No shoes, but well, I hadn't expected them. I had been barefoot so long that my feet had calluses and I could walk without footwear on any surface. The assistant returned, and we made our way through the labyrinth to the interrogation cells. Home sweet home.
The door opened to the first room on the right. This was the most comfortable of the interrogation rooms. I had spent a lot of time here during the first weeks of my stay. The room was high ceilinged, light, with big windows and colourful semi-transparent sunshades that let in the soft sunlight. The windows were too high to look through comfortably, but never-the-less welcome because of the abundance of natural light.
The Military man behind the desk swivelled his chair when I entered the room, observing me with a smile on his thin lips.
He motioned me to sit down opposite him in the chair on the far side of the bolted down desk. I pulled the chair away and sat down. Letting the silence continue. Silence doesn’t bother me. Obviously, it didn't bother the soldier either.
Primal Nature Page 2
