Linkage (The Narrows of Time Series Book 1)

by Jay J. Falconer

  “Okay, makes sense,” Lucas said, nodding.

  Drew asked, “Once the replica reverts back to its native form, what would happen if someone inserted their hand into it? Wouldn't it start to duplicate them?”

  Kleezebee shook his head. “The BioTex can't be used again without the introduction of a reactivating enzyme that only we possess. It’s one of our fail-safe mechanisms. The enzyme, and the knowledge to make it, is kept locked away under tight security. It’s as important as the BioTex itself. We certainly don't want our own technology used against us, so we take every precaution.”

  “Did you invent this stuff?” Drew asked.

  “Yes and no. But I’m afraid that’s all I’m at liberty to say at this point. I’m sure you’ll agree, our BioTex and its unique properties are beyond top secret. The rest of the details are on a strict need-to-know basis.”

  “I understand, Professor,” Drew said, “No need to explain. You’re the boss.”

  Lucas remembered reading somewhere that latex could either be a natural or synthetic substance. It was made up of several ingredients, including sugar, which explained Bruno's chocolate requirements for genetic transformation and cohesion. Nevertheless, he still needed more information. “I have a few more questions, Professor. Hopefully, you guys can answer them without violating whatever DOD or DHS confidentiality agreement is keeping your lips tied.”

  Kleezebee smirked, but didn’t seem upset. “Go ahead. I’ll answer what I can.”

  “So Bruno’s one of these replicas, right?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Okay, so where's the original Bruno? And what about Mary Stinger and the other people he impersonated? Are they walking around somewhere?”

  “Excellent question. Some of Bruno's various identities were duplicated from the bodies of people who’d died. After someone dies, there's a forty-hour window in which we can duplicate them before complete DNA breakdown occurs.”

  “What about the ones who haven’t died?”

  “Sorry, that’s part of an ongoing operation and classified.”

  Lucas exhaled and tucked in a lip, wondering if any more of his questions would be blocked. “How do you get access to their remains?”

  “We own our own chain of mortuaries, which gives us priority access to the recently deceased.”

  Grim, Lucas thought, but effective.

  He wondered where else Kleezebee might have replicas, besides General Alvarez's unit. “I understand why you have replicas inside the military, but what about in the government? And positioned throughout various industries too, I bet.”

  “Absolutely. Both. Though it can take years for one of our replicas to work its way up the chain of command in order to be in a position of influence. Tactically, we have to be very patient and plan far in advance, especially within the appointed branches of the government and the armed forces. It’s much easier for our replicas to infiltrate the various intelligence agencies or corporations.”

  “How do you control the copy?” Lucas asked, thinking about Bruno’s flying takedown of L a few minutes ago.

  “During replication, we introduce new base coding sequences into his synthetic framework, which allows us to control him.”

  Lucas nodded. It sounded like Kleezebee had everything covered.

  “Any more questions?” Kleezebee asked.

  Both Lucas and Drew shook their heads.

  “Then we’ve got work to do,” Kleezebee said, walking out of the Med-Lab. Bruno, Lucas and Drew followed the professor into the video room.

  “Status report?” Kleezebee asked his technicians.

  “Looks like they’re getting ready to drop a probe into the Korean energy field,” the center tech reported.

  “Put it on the center screen,” Kleezebee told him.

  “What’s up?” Lucas asked.

  “There’s an energy dome near one of the U.S. military bases in South Korea,” Kleezebee said, before asking the tech, “Can you tap into the telemetry?”

  “You can do that?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes, the probe’s one of ours. One of our subsidiaries manufactures them for Uncle Sam.”

  Lucas was impressed by the breadth of surveillance technology at Kleezebee’s disposal. His boss was far more than simply a professor turned real estate developer. Lucas figured there were a lot more layers of Kleezebee below the surface, just waiting to be revealed.

  The wall of video screens was filled with live feeds from all over the world, one of which showed an aerial view of the energy field. An Air Force plane flew over the dome and dropped a cylindrical object from its cargo bay.

  “Probe has entered the field, receiving data now,” the tech said.

  “So I was right. It can be penetrated through the crown,” Lucas mumbled.

  Bruno nodded, putting a hand on Lucas’ shoulder.

  “Well?” Kleezebee asked the tech.

  “Reading an incredibly dense gravitational eddy at the center of the object. . . . Sensors report numerous subspace distortions around a condensed spatial pathway. . . . The vortex seems to be streaming differentially charged tachyon particles.”

  “Sounds like an unstable wormhole in an advanced state of decay,” Drew said.

  “A self-contained one, at that,” Lucas added.

  “Can you extrapolate the telemetry and identify where the micro-singularity leads?” Kleezebee asked.

  “Applying a trans-vector algorithm. . . .” the tech said. “Sorry, sir, but I’m unable to determine its endpoint. There seems to be a strange phase shift within space-time. I can’t get a lock.”

  “Have you heard of anything like this before, Professor?” Drew asked.

  “No, this is something entirely new,” Kleezebee said. He asked the tech, “Can you use the new sensors to give me an energy reading before it’s crushed?”

  “Six times 1031 terajoules.”

  Kleezebee turned to Drew. “That number sound familiar?”

  “Yes—our experiment’s energy spike. They must be related.”

  “Seems likely at this point.”

  “Probe has stopped transmitting, sir,” the tech said.

  “So let me get this straight. Our E-121 experiment spawned a bunch of artificial wormholes?” Lucas asked, dumbfounded by the revelation.

  “Sir, the logs show the probe was scanned several times before it was destroyed by the anomaly,” the tech reported.

  “Source?” Kleezebee asked.

  “It appears to have originated from the far side of the singularity,” the tech answered.

  “That means there’s some level of intelligence on the other side,” Lucas said.

  Drew turned his wheelchair to face Kleezebee. “Can we communicate with them—if there is a ‘them’—and tell them to stop? Maybe they don’t know what kind of damage they’re doing.”

  “I wish we could, but we don’t have that kind of technology. Even if we did, I doubt it would make much difference. I don’t think the energy fields are here by accident. There’s clearly a specific agenda behind them,” Kleezebee said, just as his cell phone began to ring. He stepped away to answer the call.

  Lucas whispered in Drew’s ear, “We could’ve used Kleezebee’s sensors to trace the energy spike. I wonder how long they’ve had them?”

  Drew shrugged. “I wonder what else don’t we know? There’s obviously a lot more to the professor than meets the eye.”

  “Now we know where he spends all his cash.”

  “Still, this took a load of capital to build, not to mention the ongoing costs to maintain,” Drew said.

  “He could have a benefactor, or he’s in cahoots with good old Uncle Sam.”

  “Kleezebee accept help? Or money? Does that sound like the professor we know?”

  “No, he likes to fly solo. Be the man in charge,” Lucas said.

  “Then he must’ve been at this for a while. Probably most of his life, wouldn’t you say?”

  Lucas nodded.

  Kl
eezebee held his hand over the phone’s receiver and told the tech, “Bring up Kunsan in Korea. Show me the airfield.”

  The tech changed the video feed for the center screen. It was now showing one of the Air Force base’s runways where a black B-2 Spirit stealth bomber was taxiing along the tarmac. The sleek, triangle-shaped aircraft was turning into the wind and was almost ready for takeoff.

  “Damn it, no!” Kleezebee shouted before continuing with his private phone conversation.

  “Looks like they’re going to attempt to collapse the energy field,” the tech said.

  “How?” Drew asked.

  “By dropping in a Big Ivan.”

  “Are they nuts?” Drew shouted.

  Bruno tapped Drew on the shoulder. “What’s a Big Ivan?”

  “It’s a hundred-megaton thermonuclear bomb, the biggest ever made, by far. The Soviets were so scared of it they never actually tested it at full power.”

  “Actually, we estimate its yield to be closer to two hundred megatons,” the tech said. “The Russians made a few enhancements to its tertiary to double its effective yield.”

  “Two hundred megatons?” Bruno asked.

  “Yes, it’s thirteen thousand times the destructive power of the warhead we dropped on Hiroshima, Japan,” Drew replied.

  “Holy shit,” Lucas snapped.

  Drew shook his head. “This has virtually no chance of working. It’s simply not enough power and will probably make the situation worse. It’s like throwing a stick of dynamite into a raging forest fire, hoping the relatively small explosion will snuff out the flames.”

  “Unfortunately, the President’s science team seems to think it will. Dr. Kleezebee’s been trying to talk them out of doing this,” the tech said.

  Drew replied, “The sudden influx of that amount of radiation in a small contained space will most likely cause a cascading reaction that could exponentially increase the dome’s size and destructive power. There’s no telling what might happen.”

  “Not to mention the lingering effects of nuclear radiation on our planet,” Lucas added.

  “Their scientists believe the radiation will be contained within the dome and processed through its vortex,” the tech said, “potentially killing whoever is on the other side.”

  Drew shook his head adamantly.

  “Why in God’s name would they double it to two hundred megatons?” Bruno said.

  “Pure desperation,” Drew answered. “I’ll bet their physicists ran the numbers and realized their solution was a pipe dream. To overload and destroy a self-sustaining energy vortex of this magnitude would take much more power than we could ever hope to generate. The military could simultaneously drop in every WMD on the planet, and the energy field would only laugh and keep on charging. It’s simply not enough power to overload its energy matrix.”

  “Leave it to the military to try to blow up whatever they don’t understand,” Lucas added.

  “Exactly. And it might end up killing us all,” Drew replied.

  “How’s that?” Bruno asked.

  “A two-hundred megaton blast could conceivably cause a tiny but permanent shift in the Earth’s orbit around the sun. It’s the very reason the Russians were afraid to test Big Ivan at full power. We’re barely inside our sun’s habitable zone as it is, and even the slightest change could cause us all to die a slow, frozen death.”

  “Or fry in a microwave oven,” Lucas added.

  When Kleezebee returned from his phone call, Drew told him, “Professor, we have to stop this.”

  “It’s too late,” Kleezebee said, pointing at the video screen. The B-2 bomber was already airborne. “What’s the target?” he asked, looking at the tech.

  “There’s a swarm of energy fields on the ground in Seoul, South Korea. Geocode tracking reports the primary target is located at 37.1 degrees north and 127.3 degrees east. Looks like they’re going after the largest dome.”

  “Distance to the target?”

  “One hundred fifty miles and closing fast, sir.”

  “Show me the ground feed from Seoul.”

  A center monitor changed to show a cross-section view of downtown Seoul. In the foreground, an immense energy dome was eating its way through the center of the city. There were two additional energy fields to its left, though they were much smaller and farther away.

  This was the first time Lucas had seen multiple energy fields on the ground at the same time. Each was a different size, carving up the city and leaving a network of destruction trails behind. It reminded him of the sandy underbelly of his first ant farm experiment.

  Despite his brother’s warnings to the contrary, Lucas could understand why the military was taking decisive action. The spread of energy fields had escalated faster than anyone had predicted, and the world was running out of time. Someone needed to act, and quickly.

  “The one on the left is huge. It’s got to be five miles wide,” Lucas said, thinking about all the innocent people being killed across the globe. Guilt and remorse wanted to creep into his heart, but he kept them at bay, vowing to stay strong and stay focused. If there was a chance to make any of this right, he’d probably only get one shot at it. That meant keeping emotion out of the equation.

  “It’s the most powerful one we’ve seen so far,” the tech replied. “It’s been on the ground for almost fifteen minutes.”

  “Can you tighten up on the target? Make sure all digital multi-streams are active and being recorded,” Kleezebee said.

  The tech adjusted the feed and the camera zoomed in considerably closer. They had a front row seat to the detonation.

  “Thirty seconds,” the tech said. “The transport has entered stealth mode and is off radar.”

  Lucas wondered why the military chose to deliver Big Ivan from a stealth aircraft. It was unlikely the phenomenon had onboard radar, so why try to conceal its approach? He thought about it for a few seconds and concluded the aircraft’s flight crew was just following standard deployment protocols. Most likely, they were required to use stealth mode when live nuclear weapons were being deployed.

  “Pull up the aircraft’s onboard feed,” Kleezebee said.

  Next to the center monitor, a high-resolution video feed from the underside of the bomber’s fuselage appeared, providing a close-up view of the aircraft’s target. From above, they could see the energy field chewing its way through the Korean city.

  The bomber’s camera showed the enormous tip of Big Ivan as it was dropped from the plane’s cargo bay. Even though the bomb’s aerodynamic casing was the size of a small bus, it quickly disappeared from view as gravity guided it toward the energy field at terminal velocity.

  “Sir, the ordnance has been deployed and is approaching the target.”

  A few seconds after Big Ivan entered the dome, a blinding, powerful flash lit up the energy field from deep inside.

  “Right on target,” Bruno said.

  Lucas looked at the other monitor to view the detonation from the ground level camera. He waited for signs of the detonation to extend beyond the dome’s open crest, yet nothing appeared. The anomaly contained the blast, just as the government’s scientists predicted.

  So far, so good, Lucas thought. Maybe the President’s scientists were correct.

  The energy field started to oscillate in color and the dome began to grow. Its expansion was slow at first, then, after a few seconds, it picked up steam and grew quickly. The hairs on Lucas’ arms stood straight up when the energy field suddenly quadrupled in size and turned a reddish-orange color.

  “Yep. We were right. They just pissed it off,” Kleezebee said.

  Lucas assumed his boss was only speaking metaphorically and would never actually believe the energy field was some form of creature. Just then, the dome’s perimeter wobbled for a few moments before splitting into two equal halves like a single-celled organism reproducing through mitosis. “Ah, that can’t be good.”

  The twin domes started revolving around each other, cutting an
even deeper and wider channel into the earth as they moved. The stealth bomber flew off into the distance as the energy fields continued their march across the Korean landscape, moving faster now.

  “That should put an end to the Big Ivan idea,” Drew said.

  “And to Seoul,” Lucas added, with emphasis.

  “How will we know if Earth’s orbit was changed?” Bruno asked.

  “We’ll have to run a few calculations,” Drew answered.

  “Or just wait for the weather patterns to change,” Lucas said.

  “Boss, what would you like us to do next?” Bruno asked.

  “There’s not much we can do right now,” Kleezebee said. “Let’s get some shuteye and start fresh in the morning.”

  NINETEEN

  Lucas and Drew rode the elevator down from Sublevel 2, where they found Kleezebee and Bruno standing together in the middle of the surveillance room. Lucas took the last sip of his soda and tossed the can in the trash bin next to the elevator.

  “Food was pretty good, considering,” Drew said.

  “I thought the eggs were a little bland, but the bacon was just the way I like it—extra greasy.”

  “Mom didn’t seem to like it much. She barely touched her food.”

  “I don’t think she slept that well last night, being in a new place and all. I’m worried about her.”

  Drew’s gaze sharpened. “So am I. We should take turns keeping an eye on her. It’s what Dad would’ve wanted.”

  “Yeah, for sure. Did you bring the notebook?” Lucas asked.

  “Of course. Got it right here in my backpack. You need it?”

  “Yeah. I think we should show DL your QED equations,” Lucas said as they walked up silently behind Kleezebee, who was in the middle of a conversation with Bruno.

  “—by the time you get him outfitted, I’ll have its location and the rest of the assets in place,” Kleezebee said.