The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Yes Ma’am.” After another glare to Henry, Sarge, backed up, pivoted, and left the reception area.

  Still somewhat shaken, Henry sat up. “Who . . . who?”

  “I’ll give all the details of our find later. But . . . check this out, Henry. That’s one of Dean’s old friends from this base. Imagine that. Dean had a friend. Go back to sleep. Sarge is on detail. No one’s getting in here, that’s for sure.” She nodded. “Dean and I are in the thick of things.” She started to walk to the hall.

  “El?” Henry stood up. “What’s with Mrs. Hayes? General Slagel?”

  “Oh.” Ellen giggled. “That’s what I told him. He’s delusional, you know. Had to play along with it and build on it in order for him to agree to go.”

  “El, wait,” Henry called out as she tried to slip away. “Go where?”

  “Beginnings. Isn’t Frank gonna love him?” With one more smile, Ellen headed toward the lab.

  “Paperclips, staplers, notebooks, I understand,” Henry spoke to himself as he plopped on the couch, “but I wanna see her shove him into that damn knapsack.”

  Disappointment, loss, and anger were not the expressions on Dean’s face, but rather contemplation of what his next step would be. Before the one computer he sat, reading the results of the initial vial testing.

  “Tea?” Ellen said as she walked in the lab. “Henry was so funny with Sarge yelling at him. You should have seen his face.” She set down the mugs by Dean.

  “Tea?” Dean questioned and looked. “Hey, it’s brown, not green like the stuff Henry makes.”

  “I found a box.” Ellen said and lifted the mug and sipped. “Oh, Dean, wait until you taste this.”

  “Did you put the box of tea bags in that Ellen-sack?”

  “Without a doubt.” Ellen smiled then noticed Dean’s demeanor. “What’s happened?” She looked at the screen. “Are they all finished?”

  “Yep.” Dean took a deep breath. “Out of the forty-four unidentified vials, we identified seventeen.”

  “Oh, that’s excellent. Anything deadly?” Ellen asked.

  “Small pox,” Dean stated, “but we still have twenty-seven left. Of course, that’s less than we had before. And, actually, anything created I shouldn’t have expected the programs to recognize.”

  “What now?”

  “Now? Now, we run them again. Only this time we do breakdowns. I’ll have to see if I can recognize them by the ingredients or by looking at what they could be.”

  “Do we have the time?” Ellen asked.

  “Sure. Even if we don’t finish reviewing the breakdowns here, we can take the readouts home.”

  “What are your feelings about this?”

  “Honestly?” Dean’s head bobbed slowly from side to side as his hand played with the warm mug of tea. “I’m encouraged. But we have to remember, even if we find a virus, we can’t be certain that the case is the culprit for its release or . . .” He held up a finger and nodded.

  “It’s even our virus,” Ellen finished the sentiments. “Hopefully the antidote is in there. That would be a step.”

  “Yeah, it would be. Actually, El, having the virus of our future in our possession would be a favorable step.” He saw the questioning look in her eyes. “Having it means having a chance to get a jump on it. Fourteen months isn’t that long, but it’s fourteen months longer than we had last plague. And if I get that virus in my hands, I’m gonna beat it.” Dean paused. He softened his voice and gazed at Ellen with determination. “If it’s the last thing I do, I won’t fail again.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  November 21

  In a way it was what Frank expected, an early return of his scouting party. Deep inside of him he wished they were gone the projected three days. Being gone that long meant surveillance time they spent. The early return spelled either trouble on the road, or Frank’s fears . . . there was nothing to look at.

  The New Mexico site was mentioned in the Caceres Society reports. Frank knew they would have to take the validity of that information at face value. It was information that could have been misrepresented or fed to mislead them. Not that he would have dismissed the possibility, but Frank wouldn’t have put much stock into the New Mexico site had George not slipped up about it in his numerous taunts to Joe when Joe was under the Salicain. But if George spoke of it, its existence was real. And on that, more than anything else, Frank sent his scouting party.

  They had returned.

  Frank was working on what he was beginning to call ‘mystery reports’. Reports from his men from their rounds that listed sounds, sites, and other strange occurrences at perimeters and entrances that couldn’t be explained. Usually one guard saw them, and when a team went out to check the alleged sightings or sounds out, nothing was there. Frank had good men and they weren’t imagining things. There was an explanation. Frank’s gut told him it wasn’t one that was good, despite the dismal attitude Joe gave, or the ‘poltergeist in Beginnings’ theory Henry kept going back to.

  But puzzling and strange as the phenomenon reports were, Frank had to get to the front gate. Tower spotted the scouting party truck making its approach and Frank wanted to be the greeter.

  And he was. First one there. Frank didn’t have to hear the words. He saw the look on Cole’s face when the truck stopped.

  Frank leaned into the window. “Confirm or deny. Society site?”

  “Confirmed,” Cole said with little enthusiasm.

  “Give it to me.”

  After a blink and a slight hesitation, Cole shifted his eyes to Frank. “Empty.”

  Frank swallowed, nodded, and then tapped the door to the truck. “See ya in my office.” He stepped back to allow for Cole and the party to move on. He didn’t need to hear the report right then and there. He got the main answer he needed.

  ^^^^

  The unusual slamming of Dean’s hand, wrinkling of the papers he took from the printer, and the violent tossing of them into the trash, caused the ‘bang-crash-rattle’ that made Ellen jump from her skin and release the clipboard she held. A once silent lab, filled with frustrated noises. “Dean?” She turned to him.

  He leaned elbow forward on the counter, his hands holding up his hair. “Not now, El.” He took a long deep breath through his nostrils. “Not now.” He stared down at a sheet of paper, reading as if he was hoping it would be something different.

  “Dean.” She pulled at him to stand up. “Take a break. There aren’t that many vials left to do.”

  “I know. But by the time I test them then re-test them . . .”

  “And retest them and retest them? Come on Dean. You don’t make mistakes. Do your programs here make mistakes? No.”

  “No.” He answered solemnly then stood up, hip against the counter, facing Ellen. “But I have to be sure.”

  “And you are. Dean . . .” She lifted his chin with her finger. “We still have twelve vials left. Twelve. It still can be in there.”

  “But El, we’ve come across only five vials that were of unknown origin. One of them was an antagonist, our Salicain. The others were synthetic, no threatening agents. Where is it?”

  “It’s in there. And staring at these,” She lifted the sheets of results, are not helping you any, are they? Take a break.”

  “And do what? No matter what I do, my mind will be seeing the formulas and going over the breakdowns. I won’t be able to step mentally away, so why step physically.”

  “Well can you let me try?” Ellen leaned into him. “I have an idea. It’s something Henry and I were talking about.”

  Shifting his eyes, Dean looked at her. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Don’t be.” She stepped back and showed him her hand. “Take a walk with me.” She waited. “Dean? Hold my hand.” She wiggled her fingers.

  “All right.”

  With a smile, Ellen felt his hand meet hers. She slipped her fingers in between his and began to lead him from the lab.

  “El, where are you taking me?”

/>   “To take your mind off this work.” She moved quickly. “We’re gonna have some fun.”

  Dean stopped walking, a smile finally hit him.

  “Keep moving, Dr. Hayes.” She tugged at him. “And get your mind out of the gutter.”

  ^^^^

  Former Quantico Marine Headquarters

  “Hate to lose you.” George said in a semi-pleasant manner to Steward.

  Steward, wearing a leather jacket, slowed down as they approached a truck. “Douglass is ill. It’s only a few days.”

  “You’re heading north, correct?” George said. “Scouts estimate that least hostile.”

  “My territory. Reading Pennsylvania. Small town. At the very least they have a spectacular greenhouse set up. That’s what the scouts reported.”

  George laughed, “They used the word spectacular.”

  Corner of his mouth raising, Steward shook his head. “No, my added touch.”

  “Well, good luck on this one.”

  “I’m optimistic.” Steward nodded. “Ambassador Lyons is expected back. He can handle any link to our person in Beginnings.”

  “Excellent.” George watched Steward reach for the truck door. “Oh, one more thing. Briefly, what happened last night? I heard we lost a few.”

  “First mutiny. Have to say we didn’t see it coming,” Steward answered. “Short, sweet., and went down quietly.”

  “Who was it?” George asked.

  “Disappointingly, it was a group of men we picked up last week. Twenty-four of them. They were together for a while before we gathered them. Willing joiners.” Steward shrugged. “Actually some of them were quite promising. Strong military backgrounds. Pre-screening showed possibilities of advancement within the society without cyborg enhancement.”

  “Did they willingly join to infiltrate and get information?” George asked.

  “Highly unlikely. Remember, I’ve been part of the sweeps. I know survivor reaction. I know what’s going on in this country. Or what’s left of it. No, these men were good. They were just beginning training and now . . . gone.” Steward raised and lifted his hands. “No one heard them planning. No one expected them to book. They took nothing with them but the clothes they brought and, well, the life of one of our guards when they left. But we expect defectors. And . . .” Steward opened his door. “I must be heading off if I want to make Reading for a strong afternoon entrance.”

  “Good luck.” George moved back from the truck. It dejected George some because he was still ignorant to the goings on in the ‘gathering and building’ phase of the plan. That phase had begun while he was tucked away in Beginnings. He felt isolated, removed a bit as well. George hated the fact that he had to ask questions. But he supposed before long, he would be given the answers. And like Steward, he too would carry a nonchalant attitude about defectors instead of the worrisome feeling he carried about the group that had left them the night before.

  ^^^^

  “Empty.” Frank dropped a folder before Joe then sat down in a chair opposite his father’s desk.

  Joe opened the folder. “So they were there.”

  “Absolutely,” Frank nodded, long enough to defrost more of their buddies and move on. Like I had said before, body count in Colorado was too low. Some of our batch probably went to the New Mexico site right away.”

  Joe sifted through the papers. He whistled and leaned back.

  “Looking at counts?” Frank asked. “My reaction was ‘fuck’.”

  “Well I’m a bit more reserved.” Joe shook his head, still reading. “Big facility. Five hundred?”

  “That’s what the evidence points to and . . . you know they had to recreate Dean’s antiserum. Him and El didn’t make enough for that many. What concerns me is, if we believe those Society reports, they state twenty-five hundred soldiers cryogenically frozen to help implement the rebuilding phase.”

  “So with these five hundred and the three from Colorado that’s eight down.” Joe saw Frank shake his head. “Five plus three equals eight.”

  “Yeah. I know that. I am the basic math king. But . . . are they all soldiers?” Frank stated his question of the situation. “We don’t know that. How many are scientists, workers, and stuff. And trust me there are more than eight now. My opinion, they hit each site, did their work, branched off, and moved on. They’ve had months. They’re done. Cryogenics phase is over with. We’re behind the game.”

  “They’ve moved on with the plan,” Joe said.

  “And I’d say they’re on the thick of their building phase now.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “No hits.” Frank tossed up his hand. “They’re too busy to bother with us now. But they’ll be back. George worked too hard to keep control of this place for there not to be something of value here.”

  “Have we any idea what that is?”

  “Nope, or where.” Frank tossed his hands up.

  “O.K. Assuming that your theory is righ, and they’re coming back . . .” Joe leaned back in the chair. “And knowing the virus date on that letter, our time is minimal. We have to hit it both ways. Eliminate the threat of the virus and the threat of the Society.”

  “Correct. Me and my men work on a search and hunt for the society camps . . .” Frank nodded. “…Dean and Ellen on the virus angle. Virus in the vials or not, I believe them two can beat it. I’m confident in that half of the battle. However, my job, finding and taking the society out is going to be more difficult because we have to find them first. And looking for their camps without any technology, in a country this big will be . . .”

  “ . . . Like searching for a needle in a haystack,” Joe finished Frank’s thoughts.

  With an outward breath of thought, both Slagel men became silent.

  ^^^^

  With the clicking of her tongue, Ellen imitated the sound of a clock. “Come on Dean, time is running out.”

  “El, I’m thinking. Shh.” He held his hand over his eyebrows in thought, looking down. “How am I doing?”

  “You’re five for seven, better than me and Henry thought you’d do.” She smiled at him. “You’re stalling.”

  “No I’m not.” He looked at her. “Thanks. You know in a demented way, this is sort of fun and it is taking my mind off of things.”

  “Sure, I knew it would. It’s the big Dean test of memory. And it can’t be easy for you, especially with the way they look. Now come on, guess.”

  “Um . . .” Dean snapped his finger after looking down once more. “Thomas Morrow.”

  Ellen bent down and looked at the name tag on the decomposed body. She made a loud buzzing sound. “Wrong. Daniel Thomas. You had one of the names right.”

  Dean peered at the man who lay on his side in the hall, a man who would have been a mere skeleton if not for the elements of the outside world being kept locked away. “I remember him now.”

  “Next one.” Ellen pulled on his hand. “Oh, hint. I think, no I know, this is a female.”

  “Not that she looks like herself, but by guessing where she is laying, I’m saying Caroline Smith.”

  Ellen looked at her name tag. “My goodness Dean, you are right.”

  “I went out with her once,” Dean pointed out.

  Ellen giggled. “And you’re admitting to this. She isn’t very attractive. Did you date her long?” Ellen asked.

  “Once.”

  “Once as in you dated for a while? Or once as in one date?”

  “One date,” Dean answered.

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  “No Ellen, it was one date. One very bad date. And what’s with the twenty-questions?” Dean stopped walking. “No. I was the one who was the bad date. Not that I really think she liked me all that much, but back then, my mind was continuously on my work.”

  “Really?” Ellen spoke sarcastically. “I can’t believe that.”

  “It’s true. I really did think about . . .” Dean saw her smile. “You’re being facetious. But I’ll let that go because you
took my mind off of things. However . . .”

  “I know, back to work.” Ellen said and they began to walk again.

  “El.” Dean stopped moving. “Before we head back, we didn’t talk or bring up what happened last night. What . . . what happened, El?”

  Ellen took a breath. “What happened was the beginning of the realization that Frank and I really have to talk.”

  Nodding calmly and hiding any gloating, hopeful smile that crossed his face, Dean kissed Ellen on the cheek and headed back to the lab to work.

  ^^^^

  “Joe?” Jason had knocked only once on Joe’s office door before stepping in. “I was wondering if I could talk to you.”

  “Sure. Come on in.” Joe pointed to the stock visitor chair. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Frank.”

  “Heavy subject,” Joe smiled.

  Jason sort of chuckled. “He’s a big individual, but it’s not Frank in general. John Matoose was fixing that window on my lab and I overheard Frank telling him about what happened with the scouting party.”

  “We were gonna have a community meeting about that when Dean and Ellen get back. But if you’re concerned . . .”

  “I am.” Jason held up his hand. “But not in the way you think. I’m concerned that we aren’t using our most valuable weapon.”

  “The hidden asset Frank has been talking about?”

  “No, the one that isn’t hidden. That one that clued us in already about our pending virus, and as history disks proved, diverting Dr. Hayes’ death.”

  Joe leaned back far. “I’m listening.”

  “What about Joe . . . what about using it now. Right now with the society.” Jason asked.

  “It can’t help us now, Jason. We can’t take out the scientists by going back in time. Eliminating them too early could cause one of those ripple things.”

  “No Joe, listen to me. You still have to eliminate them now in this time.”