He kept a close eye on her as she started to walk down the hallway. She swayed her hips with purpose, walking with a distinct bounce in her step, as if she were strutting down the runway at some New York fashion show. He listened to the rhythmic clatter of her six-inch heels smacking the cement floor, which, when combined with the metronome-like stride of her tan legs, was almost hypnotizing. He’d gladly follow her anywhere.
* * *
Drew waited to let Lucas file in behind Dr. Kleezebee’s assistant, Mary, knowing his brother would appreciate the priority view of her figure. His assumption proved correct when Lucas flared his eyebrows and gave him a quick thank you nod.
Before Drew followed his brother and Mary down the corridor, he took a look back at the MPs waiting inside the elevator for the doors to close. The sharply dressed men were standing in the rear of the car with their keen, hawk-like eyes trained on him. But there were fewer men in the lift than he remembered. Somehow his earlier head count had been off by one.
He wasn’t sure how he’d made such a simple mistake, but figured it must’ve had something to do with his mind being too preoccupied with other matters. It was obvious his focus was slipping and he needed to better his concentration since this might be his one and only visit inside NASA’s underground complex.
As they moved deeper into the facility, Drew micro-focused on the details around him, wanting to remember everything until the end of time. He tried to peek inside the various labs along the way, but couldn’t because most of their doors were closed. Fortunately, on two occasions, he was able to catch a glimpse inside an open door when a person in a white lab coat just so happened to be entering or exiting as he cruised by.
Inside the first room was an elderly woman sitting behind a desk. She was stirring the contents of a black coffee mug while leaning forward with her face unusually close to the computer screen. A row of five-drawer filing cabinets stood watch behind her, and there were hundreds of shoebox-sized boxes stacked up all around the room. Each brown box had a red, white, and blue priority mail sticker on the side. Before the door swung closed, she turned to gaze at Drew, slipping on a pair of glasses that had been hanging on a chain in front of her chest.
The second room featured two heavyset men—maybe Native Americans, judging by their long black hair and dark skin. They were standing in front of a transparent grease board, scribbling equations in red and blue marker ink. The board was at least a foot taller than they were, and framed in wood, with a set of casters for mobility.
Drew could only see a portion of their work, but recognized it. They were attempting to control virtual protons in a quantized field—not an easy feat given the infinite number of excitation waves that could be produced or annihilated. If he wasn’t expected elsewhere, he would’ve stopped to inform them their energy absorption rates were off.
He brought his eyes forward and noticed an abundance of Marine personnel roaming the halls. He hadn’t expected such a strong military presence inside a scientific facility. Granted, both the military and NASA were funded by the Congress, and NASA was nominally considered a defense agency, but it didn’t explain why there appeared to be more Marines than scientists.
The journey continued, with his hands gripping and releasing to push his wheelchair forward one thrust at a time. Out of habit and to maintain his bearings, Drew kept track of their location as they moved deeper into the facility. He thought it prudent to calculate where they were in relation to their own lab on the ground floor, and to memorize the path back to the elevator. Just in case it was needed later.
* * *
Lucas led his brother into the waiting area outside the conference room. The seating area was just to the left of the conference room’s double doors. The space had been adorned with eight fabric-covered chairs and a glass coffee table sitting between them. Two stacks of magazines were lying on the table, the top of which was lying open with a photograph of a man standing in an aluminum boat on a lake, fishing.
“Go ahead and take a seat,” Mary said, pointing. “They’ll call for you when they’re ready.”
The three scientists followed Mary’s instructions and found seats in the waiting area along the wall. Lucas and Drew were next to each other, with Trevor on Lucas’ left. Mary was now seated in the chair directly across from Lucas with her legs crossed lady-like.
Lucas locked his eyes on Mary’s chest, studying the official NASA ID badge she was wearing. Since the ID had her name on it and included her photo, it meant she wasn’t simply a visitor. She’d been granted specific security clearance, and by extension, Kleezebee must possess it as well.
Obviously, there was a lot Lucas didn’t know, and it was starting to make him question everything. The nagging feeling in his gut was telling him that what he didn’t know about his mentor and his job at the university was more important than what he did know. The whole experience of being Kleezebee’s hired assistant was starting to feel like an exercise in humility, or futility, depending on how he wanted to look at it. Working in the dark, especially for a cryptic, emotionally detached man like the professor, is never easy.
Lucas’ planned recap of what had happened in the lab with the E-121 experiment was starting to rattle apart in his memory. It all sounded good when he rehearsed it earlier in his head, but now the words seemed meaningless and insignificant, sending his confidence running for the shadows. He needed to know a lot more about the nature of this meeting and who was attending. It was the only way to know for sure if he should change any of the details in his planned explanation or not.
“Excuse me, Mary,” he said, waiting for her eyes to meet his before continuing. “I was wondering who we are meeting with besides Dr. Kleezebee?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to say,” she answered in a sharp, deliberate tone, almost as if she’d been expecting the question.
“Okay, but can you at least tell me how many people are inside? Are they from NASA, the university, or from someplace else?”
“Sorry, can’t say. It would mean my job. I hope you understand.”
“I do. Just trying to get a feel for what to expect. Please don’t take offense.”
A weak grin grew on her lips. “I don’t. In fact, if I were in your shoes, I’d want to know as well.”
“Yeah, this waiting around and not knowing ain’t gonna be easy, that’s for sure.”
Mary nodded, her face indicating she was deep in thought. “Well, there is one thing I can tell you. The group inside has been in conference for well over an hour. It probably won’t be long now.”
Lucas nodded, feeling his worry level skyrocket. “So we need to be ready, for whatever this is.”
“That would be my suggestion.”
Drew tapped Lucas on the arm, then leaned over and spoke in a whisper, “Did you see all the soldiers on the way here?”
“You mean the Marines?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“No, you said soldiers. Marines aren’t soldiers. Calling them that is fightin’ words.”
“How do you know?”
“I read. Remember? They prefer to call each other jarhead or grunt or something along those lines. Just not soldier,” Lucas answered.
“Sorry.”
“Easy mistake. I catch myself doing it all the time. Yeah, but you’re right. It does seem a bit odd. Why so many?” Lucas angled his head in Mary’s direction. “Did you notice her ID badge?”
“Sure did. This whole thing makes me nervous.”
“Maybe the Marines have some joint venture project with NASA? After all, they’re all part of our government. It’s probably not the first time they’ve pooled their resources.”
Drew looked down at his lap and began to rock back and forth, clutching the leather pouch hanging from his neck.
Lucas recognized his brother’s familiar response. Drew was slipping away into his secret, dark place, trying to conceal himself from reality. He gave his brother a small hug. “It’s going to b
e all right, little brother. I’ll take care of it. I always do.”
“Drew okay? Need help?” Trevor asked Lucas, finally breaking his customary silence.
“He’ll be fine. Just give him a few minutes,” Lucas said. “But thanks for asking, and for being here. You’re a good friend.”
Lucas turned to face his brother. He hoped that by interrupting his brother’s ritual, Drew would snap out of his funk. He nudged him on the shoulder. “Can you hand me the notebook?”
Drew stopped rocking, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out the multi-colored notebook they’d brought from the apartment. He gave it to Lucas. There was a faded purple stain on the lower half of its cover, next to the torn right edge.
Lucas and Drew had exhausted the previous evening formulating a number of unorthodox theories regarding the nature of the energy fields the day before. They knew conventional thinking wasn’t going to provide them with answers, let alone a solution. They’d considered every conceivable possibility, no matter how irrational or preposterous.
They’d discussed cascading reactions, antimatter annihilation, subspace fractures, micro singularities, quantum rifts, subatomic space-time turbulence, and even the possibility of third-party sabotage. They developed multiple theory paths and mapped them to an elaborate decision tree, which they could implement depending on how future events unfolded.
At the time, Lucas thought it was an ingenious, well-conceived plan that would impress Kleezebee. Now he wasn’t so sure. Especially since neither of them could explain the massive energy spike that triggered the E-121 incident. The energy levels were off the charts and he knew mentioning it would make them sound like incompetent amateurs.
“Would you mind if I ran through some of these theories with you, Trevor?” Lucas said, turning to the third page. “We need a fresh pair of eyes to help us check their accuracy and make sure our assumptions are valid. You can be our sounding board.”
“Go ahead. I help.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Mary’s digital pager began to beep. She reached for the unit and disabled its alarm.
Lucas wondered why she was using such an antiquated device. Perhaps a dampening field was in place to block cell phone reception for security reasons. On the other hand, it may have been due to heavy terrestrial interference. A digital signal would degrade significantly having to penetrate twenty floors of thick cement and rebar. A second later, Lucas heard at least two other pagers going off, though they sounded distant, possibly down the hall.
“Are they ready for us?” Lucas asked her.
She shook her head with a concerned look on her face. “That wasn’t them.”
“Is something wrong?”
“NASA just ordered everyone to evacuate the building.”
Lucas put his hands on the chair’s armrests. “Do we need to leave?”
“Not sure. Let me check,” she replied before standing up, adjusting her blouse, and walking to the conference room door. She knocked twice, then leaned through the doorframe, as if she were waiting for permission to enter. She stepped inside and was gone less than a minute before returning with a folded piece of white paper. She handed it to Trevor. “This is from Dr. Kleezebee. He says it’s for your eyes only.”
Trevor stood up and moved away before unfolding the paper and reading the note.
Mary told Lucas, “They’re almost ready for you. Should only be a few more minutes.”
“Then I take it we’re not evacuating with everyone else?”
“No, you’re to remain here until they call for you.”
“What is taking so long?” Drew asked. “They’re wasting time. We really need to be in the lab, finding answers.”
“It takes time to set up an execution,” Lucas mumbled before he could stop his lips from muttering the words. He looked at Drew, but it didn’t appear his brother heard his accidental comment.
Trevor walked back and whispered something into Mary’s ear, after which the two of them hurried down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
“What was that all about?” Drew asked.
“Who knows? This just keeps getting stranger by the minute. All we need now is for your friend Griffith to show up with one of his toxic chemical experiments,” Lucas said, sitting back in his chair, thinking about the energy dome chasing them on campus. He was happy to be deep inside a hardened military-style shelter with thick, reinforced walls, far below ground where it couldn’t reach them. But he worried for everyone else across the planet who was stuck on the surface with nowhere to hide.
Drew clutched his leather pouch again and resumed rocking.
Lucas expected the next hour of his life to be one he’d always remember. It was either going to be a career-making meeting—if one of their notebook theories proved to be the solution to the energy fields—or career-ending. Prison could be the result, too. He didn’t know how this was all going to unfold, but it was clear the gut-wrenching stress was going to be his companion for a while.
Just then the conference room doors swung open and Dr. Kleezebee poked his head out. His face looked numb and pale, like he’d just seen a ghost. “Guys, it’s time. Come on in.”
Lucas took a deep breath and steeled himself.
TWELVE
The windowless conference room was encased with gray padded fabric along the interior of its walls. Lucas presumed it was some form of soundproof material, which was understandable given NASA’s secret activities. More than likely, NASA was employing several layers of security countermeasures to safeguard today’s meeting.
In the center of the room was an oval mahogany table, featuring a four-sided television platform built into its center. A 3D NASA logo was spinning on the screen facing him, acting like a bouncing screen saver.
Lucas waited for Drew to select a spot at the table and roll into position, then he took the open seat next to him. He took a deep breath, then let his eyes wander around the table to greet the faces staring back at him. He recognized everyone.
Directly across from him was Dr. Kai Suki, an undersized Korean fellow. Suki was the chairman of the university’s Advisory Committee and Kleezebee’s immediate boss. Two years earlier, Lucas had dropped Dr. Suki’s advanced calculus class when he discovered that Suki barely spoke English. The man was brilliant, but good luck understanding what he was saying with his back turned to the class while his hand was cranking out complex equations across a mammoth grease board.
Lucas knew better than to continue with a teacher he couldn’t understand. He’d made that mistake his first year in college, when he struggled to pass a physics class taught by a chubby Italian professor whose lectures were littered with broken syllables and misused pronouns—not a good start to his college career. It was the only grade lower than an A on his entire transcript. Lesson learned.
Kleezebee was seated to Suki’s right, dressed in a shiny blue suit with a matching tie that was partially obscured by the man’s thick gray beard. Lucas had never seen his boss dressed in formal attire before. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t seen Kleezebee in his customary flannel shirt and redneck coveralls. He figured Kleezebee’s closet only contained a dozen or so copies of the same outfit, at least until now.
DL cleans up well, he mused silently, trying to cover up his anxiety with some humor. It wasn’t working.
On the opposite side of Dr. Suki, was Randol Larson, the abhorrent Legal Counsel for the Advisory Committee. The man’s right eye was watering and blinking rapidly, as if something were stuck in it. Larson pulled at his eyelid with his fingers. Lucas held back a chuckle by covering his mouth with his hand and coughing.
Next to Larson was Dr. Judith Rosenbaum, chief scientific advisor to the President of the United States. Lucas recognized her from a recent magazine article on the effects of greenhouse gases on the planet’s atmosphere. The article mentioned her winter home was located in Green Valley, Arizona, a retirement community thirty miles south of Tucson. He’d never b
een there but had heard all the jokes about the golf-cart driving old folks clogging up the city’s streets.
Rosenbaum’s wrinkled cheeks sagged down to her jaw line like a deflated balloon. Her face was riddled with liver spots, as were her tiny forearms. Her most prominent feature was her two-foot beehive hairdo, much like the animated character Marge Simpson wore, except Rosenbaum’s was gray instead of royal blue.
To the woman’s left was Hudson Rapp, a famous African-American astronaut who’d just been named by the U.S. President as the Director of NASA. The man was big. Trevor-sized big. If he hadn’t gone NASA, he probably would’ve ended up playing professional football somewhere. He was an Arizona native, a local hero of sorts. He’d been dominating the local news lately with claims of having discovered extraterrestrial life. His team had found traces of silicon-based microbial life hidden inside a porous meteorite that crashed recently in northern Oregon. Rapp was scheduled to be the university’s keynote speaker at next semester’s graduation ceremonies.
Lucas knew the stakes had been raised when he craned his neck to the left and saw a bank of jumbo-sized teleconference screens along the wall. Each one contained a different high-ranking Washington official who appeared to be transmitting from a separate location.
Dennis M. Hubbs, President of the United States, looked out from the center screen. The trim forty-five-year-old was seated behind his desk in the Oval Office. He was flanked on the left screen by William Myers, Director of Homeland Security, who appeared to be in a heated conversation with a slender blond woman in a wilderness location. The elderly General Phillip Seymour Wright, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, stood tall in his uniform on the right screen, though his eyes were dragged down with heavy, dark bags under them, making him look half-asleep.
Linkage (The Narrows of Time Series Book 1) Page 16
