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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “I will,” Greg said and then he coughed.

  The cough made Robbie stop walking. When did that start? He was so in tune with what was happening to his men. The cough didn’t sound like the typical summer cough people get. It was deep, rumbling and thick, and lasted longer than it should have. Catching himself looking back at Greg, who was red from his coughing spell, Robbie gave Greg one more smile and moved more away.

  He took a seat on the grass, leaning against what used to be a park bench but now was turned on its side, completely grown over and part of the ground itself. He leaned against its firmness and opened the envelope. Reaching into his pocket, Robbie grabbed a cigarette and lit it. Taking in a long first hit, Robbie read Ellen’s letter. ‘Robbie, I just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you. I’m always thinking of you. Please be careful out there and come home to us. I need you. I know right now you’re probably scared. So am I. But know something, no matter what, no matter what you think, you will not be alone. I will not let you be alone out there. I promise you with everything I am. My little mind is already working. Take care of yourself. I will see you soon. I miss you and I love you. Ellen.’

  Robbie lowered the letter then he lowered his head letting her words sink in, believing her when she said he wouldn’t be alone. Even if that was an impossibility, Robbie believed her, because at that moment, it gave him something to believe in. Flicking the ash from his burning cigarette, Robbie brought the letter back up and he read it again.

  ROBBIE’S REPORT

  Date: JULY 7

  Patients Name: GREG HENSON

  Date of first symptoms: July 2nd Time of Onset: 12:15 p.m.

  Body Temp: 98 Headache: No Swollen Glands: No

  Appearance of skin: norm Touch of skin: Norm

  Is patient conscious? Yes Is patient alert? Yes

  Any discoloring of skin? None Describe: Na

  Blistering of skin? No Body cavity bleeding: No

  Convulsions: No Nausea: No Congestion: None

  Vomiting: No Dizziness: No Can patient talk: yes

  NOTES:

  Dean, what were you thinking? I can’t write it all here. See attached.

  ROBBIE’S LETTER

  July 7

  Dean,

  Greg and the other first wave two seem as if they are getting better. Is this the remission you mentioned in the last letter? Yesterday they felt better while seven others fell sick. There are four of us who aren’t sick but I watched everyone and it won’t be long before the other three go. They are showing signs of fatigue. (You might want to write that down.) The other seven were like that the day before they became fevered. I’ve been careful, almost too careful. But I guess that can’t happen in a situation like this. These guys are suffering Dean. Is there anything you can do?

  Thanks,

  Robbie

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  George’s face was pressed so firmly to the thick plastic wall, it was deformed and he looked like a child peering through window. “Where the hell is he? I don’t see him?” He looked into the observing room.

  “Please.” Dr. Colter Stevens pulled George back. “You’re smudging.” He reached to the table by the window, picked up a spray bottle, damped the area George pressed against, and then wiped it clean with a rag. “Now we can talk. He’ll be out shortly.”

  “Will he be safe to talk to?”

  “Now, yes, seven days ago. No.”

  “So the new program was a success?”

  “Yes.” Colter nodded. “Speaking of programs, I’m going to assume, because I have heard, that you did too, about the Seattle lab.”

  “I know, I know we lost it.”

  “Our scouting crews didn’t find it.”

  “I know, I know. That arrogant Slagel probably has it.” George folded his arms. “No threat. Why are you worried about it? Which cyborg-genic program did they get? Obviously not the new one. You just created it. Seattle was creating old CMEs. You, Dr. Stevens, are creating the better ones. So what if Beginnings gets their hands on the program? What are they gonna do about it? They only have two microchips. The best they can do is reprogram the CME they have. That CME will still be an idiot. Though Henry is a smart man, he’s not smart enough to rebuild another microchip and recreate the same program. He’s not you. Christ I hope not. If Henry does do it, I’ll be pissed.” George’s expression changed. “Is that him? What’s he got? A book?”

  “Yes, he still reads. He probably was using the restroom. Anyhow, Evan, as he likes to call himself, was a strong willed survivor we picked up in Tucson. He ran with the savages, as you call them. We brought Evan in and operated on him, tampering with the section of the brain that controls mobility. We hindered the signals, so to speak, so his brain couldn’t tell his arms and legs to move, similar to a stroke victim. I have to tell you, Evan was not happy. He had a fit. Fortunately for us, he couldn’t move. The only thing he could do was complain loudly and toss his head back and forth.”

  George began to laugh. “When are you people reinventing video? Now that I would have liked to see.”

  “I don't want to ask why so I’ll continue,” Dr. Stevens went on. “After allowing him to heal for two weeks, we went in yesterday with the new chip and new program. Not only is Evan moving now, but he’s happy as well. Through the program we increased the pounds per pressure his grip delivers.”

  “Can you do that?” George asked. “Isn’t strength contingent on the person?”

  “Ever hear the phrase, mind over matter. We have a female we’re going to implant next.”

  “Whoa, wait a second. A female? They are few and far between. You can’t waste a female.”

  “She’s far surpassed the fertile years and she is frail and unattractive. We can spare her.”

  “Oh. All right,” George shrugged.

  Dr. Stevens opened the observation room door. “This way, President Hadley.”

  “Thank you.” George walked in and stood back some from Evan.

  “Evan.” Dr. Stevens called him forward. “Evan, pick up a demonstration brick and show President Hadley what you can do.”

  Evan smiled and walked over to a table where a stack of red bricks lay. Some of them were broken, all of them dirty. He picked one up, clenched it in the palm of his hand, and flashed his broken and missing tooth smile at George. Evan squeezed the brick causing it to shatter, crumble, and fall to the floor like dust.

  “Holy shit,” George said with enthusiasm. “That’s . . . wait a second.” He walked over to Evan and reached for his hand. “Give me your hand.”

  Evan handed it out.

  “Dr. Stevens, this man is bleeding.” George held onto the hand. “Badly too. What good is the strength if it hurts the CME in the process? Truthful, Evan, does it hurt?”

  “Yes,” Evan said but didn’t show pain.

  George released the hand. “Problem with the program. You can’t have an indestructible army if they are as easy to destroy as the average man.”

  “Biology is working on that,” Dr. Stevens explained. “They’re coming up with a protein that Evan has agreed to try. What they hope to accomplish with treatment is to get the same skin effect as we get with the accelerated creations.”

  “I see.” George backed up. “Get this man a towel or something.” He walked to the door and left the observation room. He stood outside, watching for a while, and feeling pretty good about what he just saw. The experiments are not only working but getting better as time went on. George was confident that no matter what Beginnings got their hands on, he was one step ahead of them. He knew this for sure. He knew Beginnings wasn’t as bright as they thought they were because they had inadvertently helped George to get where he was at that point in his technology. According to his inside source, John, Beginnings had yet to ponder the question on where all the scientists were coming from, an important question they should have been asking.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Frank’s mood certainly wasn’t up after seeing his
brother Robbie. He wanted so badly to step off that helicopter and stand with him, yet he knew he couldn’t do that. He dropped off the box Robbie sent at the mobile, leaving it with Johnny. He returned his bike to the garage then trudged into town, speaking really to no one. Frank wasn’t really in the mood to talk, let alone face who he was going into to town to face. John Matoose.

  Grateful that he didn’t have to chase him down, his timing was perfect as he spotted John stepping from the clinic the moment he rounded the bend. Silently, Frank approached him.

  It was awkward as expected it would be. Tension surrounded them both and ahead of time they knew not too many words would be spoken. It would be awhile before Frank would feel comfortable pretending to be John’s friend again. John wasn’t that stupid and if Frank tried too soon, he would know Frank was doing just that...pretending.

  “John.” Frank raised his head in a hello gesture.

  “Frank.”

  “Ready?”

  “I’m behind you.”

  Leading the way and dreading what he led John into, Frank brought him to containment. They went through the small office, past Dan--they didn’t say much to him--and into the hallway. As they passed Ellen’s office, Frank saw her door was closed. Knowing that never meant anything, he decided to try there instead of looking in the skills room first and having to be exposed to the survivors who lingered there. He told John to wait, knocked once, and opened the door and stepped in. Ellen was sitting at her desk as she worked on her reports. “You have company. Try to control yourself right now.”

  He took a step back and opened the door wider. Frank lowered his head, running his hand down his goatee and staring at Ellen through the tops of his eyes when John walked in. He watched her try to be serious but he saw that top lip of hers twitch. “El., John has something to say to you.”

  “Ellen.” John stepped before her with folded hands “First, I want you to know that this is sincere. The other day when we had our confrontation, I did something . . .”

  Seeming a little despondent, John continued on, “Anyhow, some things were said, and some things were done. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  Ellen was quiet, shifting her eyes from John who awaited something from her, to Frank who shook his head at her. “Oh.” Ellen let out a breath. “O.K. Thanks.”

  “Then we can put this behind us?” John extended out his hand.

  Ellen waited for the ‘O.K.’ nod from Frank and she shook his hand. “It's behind us.” She raised her eyebrows.

  “All right.” John stepped back. “Thanks. Bye Ellen.” He walked to the door. “Frank.”

  “John.” Frank held the door opened for him, the whole time biting his lip in disgust. When John was through, he closed it and turned to Ellen. “Quiet.”

  “But Frank I have to . . .”

  “Quiet.” He walked up to her and placed one hand behind her head and the other over her mouth, whispering to her, “He could be waiting in the hall.” Frank felt the slight shaking of her body. “Quit it.”

  Ellen tried not to laugh.

  Frank held her like that until he heard the buzz of the containment door. “Now you can laugh.” He took his hand from her and saw the perplexed look on her face. “What’s wrong?

  “It’s gone. The laughing moment is gone. Thanks Frank.” She folded her arms and leaned against her desk.

  “Sorry.” He pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. “Good job.”

  “See Frank see. I can act really well. Wait until I get a hold of Jenny today.”

  “Today?”

  “Yep.”

  “You don’t think it’s too soon.”

  “Now I’ve thought about this, when will it ever be the right time for Jenny’s mortal enemy to want to be friends? Never. So I might as well start this thing right?”

  “I guess you’re right,” Frank said. “I should be going.”

  “Did you see Robbie? How was he? How did he look?”

  Frank raised his eyebrows and hesitated, his entire mood dropped. “He tried to hide it but I know my brother.” He exhaled. “He’s scared.”

  <><><><>

  The three of them stood in Andrea’s small office at the clinic. Joe was behind Andrea’s desk, Andrea in a chair next to him, and Dean standing before them like an attorney pleading his case.

  Dean looked upset. He was holding onto a letter he had just received from Robbie. His usually messy hair was even more messy from running his fingers through it so many times. He argued with one hand on his hip, holding back his lab coat. “Joe, listen to me.”

  “Dean. I’ve listened. What do you want me to do? They can’t come in. If I put it to a community vote, you know how it will get out. Rumors are flying about anyhow. I didn’t want general population to know our men were sick, but somehow a lot of people do. Tell him Andrea, what you’ve been hearing.”

  Andrea crossed her legs as she went into the explanation. “Dean, people are worried. They’re worried we’re gonna let this in. I have assured them, as a council member, we are not.”

  “Fine.” Dean slammed the letter onto the desk. “Read your son’s words. Your son, Joe. He needs help. I don’t see why we can’t try to accommodate them.”

  “Listen to you for Christ’s sake.” Joe shoved the letter back. “Try to accommodate them? What, do they have a cold or something? No. They have a highly deadly virus that you have confirmed as the same on that wipes us out in the future. Accommodate them.” Joe shook his head. “There is nothing more I would want than to have my son in here with me. I can’t. You know that. Robbie knows that.”

  “Then let me go out there, Joe.”

  “No.” Joe shook his head.

  “I’ll go.”

  “You won’t get back in,” Joe stated strongly. “You won’t until you know the danger has passed.

  “I’m immune. Ellen is immune. Henry, Frank, and Johnny are too. Let two of us go out there. Me and Ellen. Let us try to give them medical attention.”

  “What are you nuts?” Joe’s face turned a shade of red. “First, as a leader of this community, I say no. Second, you think as a father I am going to not fight you tooth and nail about wanting to take my daughter with you. I have one kid out there. I will not let another one go.”

  “Joe.” Dean took a second to calm himself down. “We are immune. Maybe you aren’t grasping what I mean by that. That means we can’t catch it. I have confirmed that we can’t carry it. What residue of it that remains on our clothes will be dead and non-viable in twelve hours. Whoever would go out there with me, and I prefer that be Ellen because she knows this better than anyone, would stay in isolation for a day. We will not be a threat. Don’t you understand that?”

  “Don’t talk down to me like I’m an idiot,” Joe scolded.

  “Then don’t treat what I’m saying to you as if I am guessing. This is fact, Joe. I know what I do. This is what I do. I will give you the fact that bringing them in here can be a risk, a minimum risk but sending me out there will not be. I know this. I will stake my life on it.”

  “I can’t allow it, Dean. I can’t take a chance of any contact whatsoever. Please understand that. Please see my point. We don’t know if they are the start of it all in the future we were warned about. We don’t.”

  “You’re scared,” Dean stared coldly at Joe.

  “Hell yeah I’m scared. I have a hundred and twenty-six people in here. Twenty-nine are children. Twenty-nine. That’s one quarter of our population Dean. I can’t take a chance no matter how small. We knew this going in. We have to prevent that future from happening and we will. I realize you have run your tests on the samples Robbie sent.”

  “I have to get out there, Joe.”

  “Tell me why,” Joe asked. “Tell me what you can do out there that Robbie isn’t doing now. What will it do?”

  Ellen's voice was not one they expected to enter into the conversation. “It will show them we haven’t forgotten about them, Joe.” Ellen entered Andrea’s offi
ce. “It’ll show them we care. I care. I worry about Robbie. If he sees Dean, and maybe me, he’ll see we haven’t left them out in the cold and that is so important.”

  Dean swung his head around to her with a closed mouth and a ‘thank you’ nod. He reached out his hand and pulled her in, whispering to her, “Where did you come from?”

  “I heard you in the hall.” She faced Joe. “Joe, listen, if you send Dean and me out there, or even Johnny and Dean, we won’t be a threat to anyone when we come back in. We won’t carry it and to ensure it, put us in isolation for a day or so.”

  “Ellen.” Joe stood up. “I listened to this argument from Dean. I understand all that. I do.”

  “Then understand this.” Ellen walked to him. “I heard you say we have a hundred and twenty-six lives in here. How many of them are your family? You don’t want to see them at risk? I know what your argument is for keeping Robbie and them away and any of us far away from them, but here’s some food for thought for you. If Robbie and his men aren’t the ones who brought this into our home in that future, then it’s still coming.” Ellen softened her voice. She spoke in a hypnotizing passion with her fist clenched tightly to her chest as she nearly stood toe to toe with Joe. “We aren’t ready for it. Let Dean and I go out there and just check them and see it face to face so we can know exactly what we’re really up against. Letting us do that and giving them some of the prototypes we have, is another way you can protect the people of this community. Joe, we are making progress, but if we were put up against the real thing right now, all the practice in the lab may just mean shit. Like Robbie and his men and Beginnings are at war with George and whatever he has running around out there, Dean and I are at war with this virus. Take us out of the simulator, Joe. Let us go up against it and see what we really can do. We want to be ready. We need to be ready when and if it comes.”

  Joe stared at his daughter’s face, so close, and her eyes that never left his. He took a breath through his nostrils and shifted his eyes to Dean. “You said twelve hours and anything you have left on your clothes will be non-viable?”