The Eternity Project

by Dean Crawford

  ‘And there can be no mistake?’ he asked Karina. ‘That you have all seen this anomaly, this spirit, and that it has killed?’

  ‘You had to be there, Thomas,’ Karina replied. ‘There’s no doubt about it, no trickery. This thing tears people apart as though they’re made of paper, crushes hearts inside people’s chests. I’d say that us being mistaken is now less likely than this thing being real.’

  Monsignor Thomas nodded slowly and then took a deep breath.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked her.

  ‘We need a way of stopping it,’ Ethan replied for Karina. ‘While there may be a reason that it’s killing people, we need to let the law handle it. A vigilante poltergeist isn’t what this case needs right now. We need answers, not corpses.’

  Monsignor Thomas slowly stood from his seat, his hands clasped before him as he glanced across at the choir gallery glowing in the candle light and a huge golden crucifix suspended above it.

  ‘There is so much that we do not know about our existence,’ he said finally. ‘Science has answered so much and will continue to do so, but there are some things that it is not equipped to measure. I fear that a phenomenon such as a wraith loose in New York City is one such event. You cannot defeat such a force of nature by strength, only by guile.’

  ‘Force of nature?’ Karina gasped. ‘There’s nothing natural about it!’

  Monsignor Thomas smiled and shook his head. ‘Isn’t there? We call such entities supernatural, but only because our senses are not equipped to detect them easily and because they do not frequently interact with our world.’

  ‘We need to stay in the here and now,’ Ethan cautioned the monsignor, ‘not get caught up in speculation about the afterlife.’

  ‘I’m not talking about the afterlife, as you call it,’ the monsignor replied easily, not taking offence. ‘I’m talking about what we can detect, and how you might be able to use it to control this wraith.’

  ‘Control it?’ Lopez asked.

  ‘Contain it, then,’ the monsignor corrected himself. ‘Put simply, our universe, whether you believe it was created by God or that it simply exists, is a universe of energy. That energy takes different forms such as heat, light, objects, gases and so on, but all of it is energy nonetheless. You have heard of Albert Einstein’s Special and General Relativity, yes?’

  Ethan blinked and almost laughed. ‘You’ve studied them?’

  ‘My PhD was in theoretical physics,’ Monsignor Thomas replied without taking offence. ‘As a scientist and a believer, I see no conflict between science and faith. For me, the one leads to the other.’

  ‘So what does this wraith have to do with Einstein?’ Jarvis asked.

  Monsignor Thomas gestured to the candles near the choir gallery. ‘Einstein worked out that everything is energy by asking questions about and studying the properties of light. One of the conclusions that he drew and that is little known is that, for his equations to work, he had to create an energy field that exists across space and time. It was once referred to, in ancient times, as the “ether”, a field which would carry the passage of light. Einstein didn’t believe in its existence or in the consequences of it being there: that the universe must be expanding due to this mysterious field of energy, so he fudged his equations to cover the gap. He later called it “the greatest blunder of his life”.’

  ‘So there is an energy field, all around the universe?’ Karina asked, and was rewarded with a nod.

  ‘It goes by many names, many of them associated with the strange world of quantum mechanics,’ Monsignor Thomas replied. ‘But essentially, it is the seething energy field of all atomic particles, invisible but constantly buzzing. There are particles popping into and out of existence in every square inch of our universe.’

  Ethan realized where the monsignor was coming from.

  ‘You think that’s the fuel that the wraith uses to do what it does?’

  ‘To a certain extent, yes,’ Monsignor Thomas replied. ‘But it will also be drawing energy from our everyday technology. Investigations into paranormal events around the world have documented many hundreds of times the draining of batteries in cameras or the fading of lights in the presence of paranormal activity, as though something is drawing energy from its surroundings to manifest itself.’

  ‘The lights,’ Lopez said, turning to Ethan, ‘the lights are always out when the wraith is present.’

  ‘Cellphones and radios fail, too,’ Ethan agreed. ‘But surely, there isn’t enough energy in a cell battery or light bulbs to crush a half-tonne elevator car?’

  ‘No,’ Monsignor Thomas agreed, ‘not nearly, but these devices are not the source of the energy, only a path to it, a conduit, if you will. The amount of energy in any atom, Einstein proved, is tremendous. If you doubt this then think about the power of our sun or a nuclear bomb. A single nuclear device can level cities and lay waste to entire regions.’ He raised a clenched fist. ‘Yet the bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima at the end of the Second World War each contained a fuel cell for their destructive power no bigger than my fist.’

  Karina glanced at his fist. ‘That much power in that small a space?’

  Monsignor Thomas nodded, lowering his fist and pointing at a small brass button on his robes. ‘This button maybe weighs a couple of ounces,’ he said. ‘But if I took it and turned it into pure energy right now, it would vaporize this entire cathedral in a spherical explosion that would radiate in all directions at once, including straight up and straight down. The resulting shockwave would level the rest of the block, because the amount of energy in any object of mass is found by multiplying that object’s mass by the speed of light, squared.’

  Lopez blinked. ‘That’s a big number.’

  ‘Big enough,’ Monsignor Thomas replied, ‘to crush an elevator car. I take it that it gets rather cold when the wraith is present?’

  ‘Bitterly,’ Karina confirmed.

  ‘It is drawing from its surroundings,’ Monsignor Thomas said. ‘The latent heat energy lost from the atmosphere creates the chill that people often feel when in the presence of what we call ghosts. But a wraith’s power would virtually freeze air if it lingered in one spot for long enough.’

  Ethan looked around the cathedral for a moment and then was hit by inspiration.

  ‘If we could take potential victims to a place where there were no electrical items, it would diminish the wraith’s ability to attack them.’

  Monsignor Thomas nodded. ‘It’s possible. Without a means to channel energy efficiently, the wraith’s power would be greatly reduced, although it would still no doubt be able to manifest itself. And that’s what bothers me the most about this case.’

  ‘Why?’ Karina asked.

  Monsignor Thomas frowned thoughtfully. ‘You say that you believe that this wraith is the spirit of a woman, or child, who died recently on Williamsburg Bridge?’

  ‘My colleague’s family,’ Karina confirmed. ‘Nobody else connected to this case has died, so we figure it must be one of them.’

  Monsignor Thomas sat back down on a pew, his features now deeply concerned.

  ‘What is it?’ Ethan asked.

  ‘I believe,’ the monsignor replied, ‘that you have made an error of judgment.’

  ‘How?’ Lopez asked.

  ‘Well, I’m no expert on these phenomena, so rarely do they occur,’ the monsignor replied, ‘but I understood that crisis-apparitions only appeared to other people at the moment of death.’

  ‘That’s what we learned a while back,’ Ethan confirmed. ‘They were documented in detail during the First World War.’

  ‘That’s right,’ the monsignor said. ‘But if this was a haunting, then the wraith, or ghost, would be present on the bridge only. There are literally thousands of cases worldwide of roads haunted by automobile-wreck victims that periodically appear to drivers. Yet you say the wraith is moving freely, almost as if it is intelligent?’

  ‘It seems to know where people are,’ Lope
z replied, ‘if that’s what you mean.’

  The monsignor appeared to come to a conclusion, and he stood.

  ‘Then you’re looking in the wrong place,’ he said. ‘The source of this wraith must still be alive.’

  47

  The wintry morning air outside the cathedral seemed colder as Ethan jogged down the steps, with Lopez and Karina close behind.

  ‘We should have thought of that,’ Lopez said. ‘Professor Bowen told us about that poltergeist case in Rosenheim, Germany, where the source was a girl who was alive.’

  ‘I think we’re out of our depth here,’ Ethan replied.

  ‘These crisis-apparitions appear when people have just died,’ Karina said. ‘Maybe somebody injured in the accident is in intensive care, slipping in and out of consciousness?’

  Ethan looked at Karina. ‘I think that you know more than that about what’s happening.’

  Lopez glared at Ethan angrily but he ignored her, staring at Karina until she let out a frustrated sigh and swiped a strand of hair from her face. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘It was just a gut instinct after what happened in my apartment the other night.’

  ‘In the kitchen?’ Lopez asked. ‘What did you see?’

  ‘I didn’t exactly see anything,’ Karina replied. ‘I thought I saw a man standing there in the shadows, watching me, but it wasn’t what I saw that mattered. It was a feeling.’

  ‘You recognized the person,’ Ethan said with a clairvoyant flash.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Karina said, ‘but it just felt like Tom was there. After what had happened that day, I got paranoid and decided to check him out. You know the rest.’

  Lopez looked up at Ethan. ‘He died on the floor of his apartment.’

  ‘And then got resuscitated,’ Ethan said. ‘You think it’s worth checking out the times of his cardiac arrest and the murders of the two guys out on Hell Gate Field, see if they match?’

  Lopez nodded immediately, but Karina shook her head.

  ‘Even if they do match, what the hell do we do then? We can hardly arrest Tom for the murders, he was dead on his goddamned couch! And what about the rest of the team? If it’s Tom who’s somehow behind all of this, then he’s hunting them down, too.’

  ‘For which there must be a reason,’ Ethan said. ‘Karina, we can’t afford to just dismiss this, however crazy it might seem. If we can’t rule out the possibility that Tom is somehow conjuring this wraith up, then we have to assume that, whether he knows it or not, Tom’s our killer. He can’t be prosecuted and the case would be thrown out by any self-respecting judge, so we have to deal with this ourselves. Where has he been the last two days?’

  ‘Alone at home,’ Karina admitted. ‘But I’ve called him at least twice every day and he’s always picked up. It’s not like he’s tearing around the city killing people. Christ, he’s so depressed he can barely walk most of the time.’

  ‘Check the times,’ Ethan insisted, ‘and then go and visit Tom, okay? I’ll catch up with you in a while.’

  ‘Why, where are you going?’ Karina demanded.

  ‘It’s important,’ Ethan replied. ‘I won’t be long.’

  He turned and zipped up his jacket against the cold as he started walking down the sidewalk. He got ten paces when he heard Lopez jog after him and felt her hand on his shoulder.

  Lopez looked at him. ‘You want some back-up?’

  Ethan shook his head. ‘Probably better if I do this alone. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she replied, ‘that’s what bothers me. It’s been five years, so you don’t know anything about Joanna now, Ethan. She said it herself. Maybe you should take this a bit slower, a bit more cautiously.’

  ‘Like you would?’ Ethan asked with a smile.

  ‘Your safety is paramount to me,’ Lopez replied tartly, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. ‘Most all times.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Ethan said. ‘Just find out what you can about Tom Ross, and get Doug in on this. He might be able to match the name to our list.’

  Lopez’s eyes widened. ‘You think?’

  ‘It’s exactly the kind of thing MK-ULTRA will be looking for. If there’s a history of this in Tom’s family, he might be more than just our killer. He might be a target, too. If the assassin that Joanna claims is following her identifies Tom, he’ll be killed. We need Joanna on our side and Tom safe before we can finish this, okay?’

  Ethan turned away. He could feel Lopez watching him as he walked, and wondered just what he was doing. Sure, he could hardly avoid meeting with Joanna: he’d been searching for her for five years. But so much had happened in between that maybe Lopez was right and there was nothing left for him to find.

  The Metro took him south into downtown. He hopped off on Broadway and walked onto Fulton, the street lined with diners and pizza houses, small businesses tucked out of sight from the main streets. Truth was that in New York City there weren’t very many places that a person could hide for long. Cameras were everywhere, many of them used by law enforcement to track vehicles and people, if the need arose. Joanna would be keeping her face out of sight, probably using a baseball cap and shades or a hood, maybe even a headscarf. Both he and Lopez had become fairly adept at avoiding cameras, using simple disguises over the past six months. Joanna would by now have perfected the technique.

  As he walked he saw roadworks cordoning off part of Fulton, builders and street technicians digging holes and fiddling with scaffolding equipment. The large metal storage containers, each as big as an SUV, provided excellent shielding from the shops, bars and cameras on the opposite side of the street.

  Ethan took the sidewalk behind the works, and soon found the diner that Joanna had mentioned, a small affair with maybe a dozen tables. This early in the morning, it wasn’t easy to get a space, but he saw Joanna the moment he walked in. She was sitting facing the door deep inside the diner, far enough to avoid detection by any cameras outside, and to her back was the counter entry hatch: a quick escape route through the kitchen if anybody unfriendly tried to corner her inside.

  Ethan unzipped his jacket and shouldered his way past truck drivers and construction workers tucking into breakfast, finally sitting down opposite her. She smiled and pushed a coffee toward him.

  ‘Still two up and white?’ she asked.

  Ethan nodded, feeling a strange pang of nostalgia seep through his veins as he sipped from the cup.

  He was seeing Joanna properly for the first time in five years, and he realized that the previous night had revealed only her identity and not her condition. While he could not doubt that she was superbly physical fit, her face now bore the weight of her years of incarceration. Gone was her smooth complexion. Her skin was creased around her lips and at the corners of her eyes, their once clear green appearance tinged with shadows. She was thinner than he remembered, the line of her lips harder and her cheekbones sharper. Her hair seemed more wiry than he remembered.

  ‘You’re staring at me,’ she said.

  Ethan blinked. ‘Sorry, it’s been a long time.’

  ‘For me, too,’ she replied. ‘You’re looking good, Ethan.’

  He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. ‘You, too.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ she replied. ‘I’ve aged ten years in five and it’s not all down to bad coffee.’

  There was a ghost of a smile on her lips as she replied, but it was muted by a flinty light of radicalism that glittered like distant lightning in her eyes. Whatever was going on behind them was vastly different to what Ethan remembered, and he chose his words with care.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Just tell me from the beginning what happened. I nearly drove myself into an early grave searching for you, Jo – it was like you disappeared into thin air.’

  Joanna nodded slowly and set her cup down.

  ‘I got jumped outside the hotel we were staying at in Gaza,’ she began, ‘if you could call it a hotel, what with the bare walls and that damned donkey outside
.’

  Ethan smiled involuntarily. ‘The one owned by the guy hawking the mugs?’

  ‘I heart Gaza City.’ Joanna nodded, a smile breaking through like a ray of sunlight on a bleak winter’s day. ‘Never did ask him which part of that open prison he hearted. Anyway, four guys, real fast. I didn’t even have chance to put up a fight before I was bundled into a blue sedan and whisked away.’

  ‘Away where?’ Ethan pressed.

  ‘Not far,’ she replied, and her features became sympathetic. ‘It took a couple of hours to get there but they were just driving around in circles, and I was only ever moved once or twice in the whole three years, always ending up back in the same building. Truth is, I don’t think I was ever more than a couple of miles from the hotel.’

  Ethan felt tears pinch at his eyes but he refused to let her see them. ‘I left you behind.’

  ‘You did all that you could,’ Joanna assured him. Her hand reached out and touched his, squeezed it briefly. Her skin was cool and dry, not soft and warm as it had once been. ‘After I got away I started looking for you. It didn’t take long to find the articles you’d written, the money you’d spent, everything. I know how hard you tried, Ethan.’

  Ethan blinked hard, fighting off the grief that was swelling like a storm inside him.

  ‘Then for Christ’s sakes, why didn’t you contact me?’

  Joanna’s expression changed to one of determination. The hand retreated back across the table.

  ‘A lot happened, Ethan. There’s still a lot that I don’t understand, don’t know. I couldn’t trust anybody.’

  ‘Anybody?’ Ethan echoed in amazement. ‘You couldn’t trust me, even after all I’d done?’

  ‘It wasn’t you,’ she insisted. ‘It was everything, everyone, people connected to other people and on and on. By the time I actually tracked you down, I knew you were working for the enemy.’

  Ethan frowned. ‘The enemy? What are you talking about?’

  ‘You’re contracted to the Defense Intelligence Agency, right?’ she asked, and, when Ethan nodded, she raised her hands palms up from the table. ‘It was the CIA that pulled me off the street, Ethan. They’ve been looking for me ever since.’