He tried to get up by bending his torso slightly forward, forcing his abdominal muscles to work harder. Incredibly, his right arm had completely recovered and two scabs where there had before been two deep holes were the only consequences of his lethal encounter with the snake.
When he was ready to get out of bed, the doors opened and a man of around forty entered, in a white coat and a stethoscope hanging around his neck.
James started to feel a touch nervous when he saw him. “Who are you? Where am I? How did I get to this hospital?”
The man just glanced at him, took out a folder from the pocket at the foot of his bed and removed a blank sheet.
“Answer me!” he cried.
The doctor continued to ignore his questions and started to scrawl something illegible on the observation sheet he had previously taken out. James was tired of waiting and, cursing under his breath, he tried to get up, but the doctor dramatically rushed to stop him.
“Please don’t get up. I am still unsure as to how your body has responded to treatment.”
James frowned. “Treatment? What treatment?”
The doctor looked confused. He decided to explain it himself. “When you were admitted here, your vital signs were extremely low. The snake that bit you injected a large amount of venom which acted very quickly on your system. We still don’t know why, but we believe that you became slightly more nervous than normal after the bite and this facilitated the spread of venom within your body.”
How could I not have been nervous! They wanted to kill us! he thought.
“The snake that bit you had a powerful venom which causes tissue necrosis. You’re really lucky that you don’t know basic first aid. If you had applied a tourniquet, we would have had to amputate your right arm.”
James looked at him angrily. The doctor didn’t know that he had known exactly what to do and it wasn’t a result of his ignorance. He had been able to recognize and classify the snake from the outset and had known the steps to take. Even so, he preferred to not say anything and let him continue with his explanations.
“Anyway, you did something wrong. You shouldn’t have made a cut in the wound to suck out the poison. Hermolytic or proteolytic venoms destroy the blood and skin tissue. When the wound is opened, we’re helping the venom to act sooner and much more powerfully.”
“And what about that treatment you mentioned before?”
“Well, we’ve put you through the usual detoxification process. The soldiers who brought you here gave you first aid to try and prolong your life. They injected you with a general antidote, applied electric shocks around the bite with an electroshock gun, and gave you citric acid, which helps to build defenses and immunity in an organism. You were somewhat better when you got here, but we applied the exact antivenom required for that snake and treated you with anti-ophidic serum. After the last analysis, we can confirm that there is no trace of venom in your body. You’re clean.”
James thanked him for saving his life and tried to stand up again.
“Please wait! Don’t stand up yet!”
“Why? Didn’t you just say I’m better?”
The doctor looked at him, surprised. “But you still don’t know?”
“Doctor, you’re making me nervous. Is there something I should know?”
“Last night you had an attack. From what the nurse told me, she found you writhing about on the bed, tightly holding your right knee.”
James looked at him puzzled. Until then he had thought that everything had been a nightmare and the large quantity of drugs he had consumed had made him confuse fantasy and reality.
So it did happen!
The doctor spoke again. “The soldiers who brought you here told us that when you were delirious, you were complaining constantly about your right arm and knee. When we first took a look, it seemed to be slightly inflamed and we decided to perform a MRI on it. The result was alarming. You had four very advanced cases of tendonitis with a great chance of them breaking. The goose’s foot was completely affected…”
“Goose’s foot? What’s that?”
“It’s the name given to the insertion of the conjoined tendons of the sartorius, gracilis and semitendinosus muscles onto the front of the tibia, because it looks similar to a bird’s foot. All three were very inflamed, not to mention the poor state your patellar ligament was in.”
“Did they operate?”
“Absolutely not. That is a very drastic solution and one which the vast majority of doctors try to avoid. Normally, many of the specialists who saw you would suggest that the operation was the only viable option. However, the first thing any traumatologist should do in a case like this is look for a conservative treatment that would yield good results. We’re trying to help the affected tendons to recover and are currently waiting for the results.”
“So, what have they done?”
“Prolotherapy, Mr. Oldrich. Have you ever heard of it?”
“Never,” he replied.
The doctor gave a weak smile. “It doesn’t surprise me at all. Prolotherapy is not widely known, but in the last few years it has become hugely important thanks to its extraordinary results in reconstructing ligaments. It is based on the injection of an irritant solution which stimulates the growth of strong and healthy tissues. These injections promote the formation of collagen and elastic fibers, which are stronger than those originally present, restoring normal stability and eliminating pain in the long-term. Many traumatologists are unaware of its existence and the only option they give their patients is to visit the operating theater, even when there are many other solutions which are less aggressive and have better results.”
“Is that why my knee was swollen?”
“Exactly! Prolotherapy involves injecting the patient with a solution made from glucose, glycerin and phenol directly at the site of the problem. This procedure needs to be repeated between three and six times. However, we have developed a much more effective formula in our laboratory which can achieve astonishing results after just one application.”
“So, why was I in so much pain last night?”
The doctor seemed to hesitate for a few seconds but he explained. “I definitely owe you an apology. It’s fair to say that prolotherapy causes slight pain which usually subsides after three or four days, along with inflammation, which is what actually cures the patient. That being said, it is more of an ache, similar to when you have a tooth removed. However, in order to carry out the technique, we must first treat the patient for heavy metal toxicity, just in case there is any. The site director insisted that you be rehabilitated as soon as possible and we assumed you weren’t intoxicated. We made a mistake. Anyway, I don’t believe that toxicity together with prolotherapy were the causes of your pain. I’m inclined to think it was the large quantity of drugs that present in your system which reacted with one another and caused the problem.”
James lay down and rested his back against the headboard. Then he reflected upon what he had just heard. “Did you say the site director? Where am I?”
The doctor hesitated for a few seconds, it seemed as if he regretted saying those words. “I’m sorry, Mr. Oldrich, but I’m not authorized to answer that question.”
“What aren’t you authorized to say?” asked James, noticeably lowered his voice.
Just them the automatic doors opened and a familiar face walked through them; it was Richard. James turned white and hardly knew how to react, while Richard walked over and gave him a big hug.
“Don’t get up. I don’t know how your knee is.”
James hadn’t even heard him. He stood up and tightly hugged his friend, while several tears poured down his cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry… That bitch deceived me.”
“Don’t worry, but I owe you one. Look at the mark you left on my head!”
The doors opened again. The doctor had just left the room after seeing that James could stand up without any difficulty. The treatment had been a success.
“That bit
ch,” he said again, “deceived me and showed me proof that you… I’d never have done that to you if…”
Richard smiled. Everything had turned out alright in the end.
James hugged him again. He felt guilty every time he thought about the fate his friend could have had. Is he alive? he had often wondered. Now he was much calmer, a great weight had been lifted. “But… now that I come to think of it, what were you doing working for the Pentagon?”
He thought that Richard would try to evade his question just as the doctor had done a few minutes ago, but he answered calmly.
“Over the last few months, a number of messages written in code, symbols and ancient scripts have been found in the most well-known places in the world. The government didn’t think anything of it at first, until they deciphered one of them. It seems that a group of lunatics are taking advantage of the recent fame enjoyed by some secret societies to send threats to the U.S. government in their name. I’m helping them to decode all those messages.” Richard smiled and continued to explain. “One afternoon, I found Mary talking on the phone, but unfortunately I couldn’t hear anything. When she found out that I had seen her, she got very nervous and I started to get suspicious about her. The next day, I decided to share your discovery with my contact at the Pentagon. Ever since then, we have had a military team watching out for our safety and helping me to decipher the contents of the book.”
“You should have told me!” he cried, trying to excuse his ignorance.
“But James, you were crazy about that girl! You wouldn’t have believed me!”
“Of course I would! You’re my friend, for Christ’s sake!”
The doors opened again, but neither of them noticed.
“Where are we? The doctor didn’t want to tell me?”
Richard was just about to answer when a loud booming voice spoke from behind.
“Good morning, Mr. Oldrich. My name is Charly M. Humphrey and I am the current Director of Area 51.”
Chapter 63
Area 51 is a secret military base approximately sixty square miles in size and located in the state of Nevada, in the west of the United States. Its name comes from the area divisions made by the U.S. Government for the administration of all its services.
It was in July 2003 when the Federal Government finally admitted its existence and assigned it to the U.S. Air Force, but they did not give any further information.
It is an area which is permanently out of the sight of civilians and regular air traffic. The area is constantly protected by radar and motion sensors, as well as surveillance and thermal imaging cameras that watch over the complex day and night. Should any absentminded tourist get lost in the immediate surroundings, they would find themselves faced with guards armed with M16 assault rifles and the odd helicopter.
The whole perimeter is monitored by a private security firm which patrols the area with gray all-terrain vehicles, carefully watching all those visitors who get a little too close to the wire fencing for comfort.
It’s worth mentioning that the base never appears on public government maps, which gives it another aura of mystery.
Back in the room, James warily looked at the person who had just come in. He was a well-built, middle-aged man of around fifty, dressed in a dark blue striped suit and a sky blue tie. His chest bore a large number of honors which did not escape the attention of the young professor. James recognized three of them straight away because they were the most relevant military awards the United States of today: the Medal of Honor, the Distinguished Service Cross and the Purple Heart.
The Medal of Honor is the highest military decoration awarded by the U.S. government. Personally bestowed by the president and in order for it to be conferred, the member of the armed services must have shown “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his or her life above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States.”
The Distinguished Service Cross is the second highest decoration and is awarded for acts of extraordinary heroism against the enemy. The act must involve extreme gallantry and risk of life in actual combat with an armed enemy force.
Both awards have different versions depending on the military division; in this case, it corresponded to the Air Force Cross.
Finally, the Purple Heart is awarded to all those who have been wounded or killed in combat.
James wondered what kind of service that man had given to his country to be awarded with such medals, not to mention the rest of the military decorations pinned to his chest which he had never seen before.
“How are you, Mr. Oldrich?”
The elegance with which he wore his suit and his gray hair, which was completely slicked back, did not intimidate James in the slightest.
“I’m much better now. I can already walk.”
Charly watched how James was standing up on his bad leg without any apparent distress and he smiled. It appeared that all the millions which were annually plowed into medical research were starting to bear fruit.
“So you’ve brought us to the famous and top secret Area 51. What have you done with the fragments?”
“I’ll tell you when the time is right, but first I’d like to ask you a question.” Charly came closer, as if he wanted to avoid that part of the conversation from being heard from outside. “Did you find out who was after you?”
“Not at all. That bitch didn’t want to tell me. What happened to her?”
“One of our helicopters took them down with a missile and they were blown to bits. They’re dead.”
James sighed; he was overcome with contradictory emotions. He was relieved but had a knot in his throat and a wave of sadness washed over his heart. He had really fallen in love with that girl.
“Mr. Matheson,” said Charly as he walked to the door. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me? In a few minutes there will be a meeting with the leaders of the most important departments of the U.S. Armed Forces and Security Services. It is very important that you tell us about your experiences and your thoughts on what happened.”
“What did you say?” asked James behind him. “I’m coming too!”
Charly looked at him dubiously. “I don’t know if that would be a good idea. The doctor told me that you still need to rest. Besides - “
“I’m sorry, but I don’t intend to miss that meeting.”
Charly thought about consulting the doctor but it was already too late - James was getting dressed at top speed. A few seconds later, the three of them left the room.
The outside was completely different from how the young professor had imagined. A very long corridor stood before them, with several rooms lining each side. The marble floor and lack of decoration on the walls gave it a gloomy aspect. As they walked along it, the lighting started to change from yellow to white thanks to the sophisticated lighting system which detected the presence of people and adjusted the brightness accordingly. Richard had already had his ups and downs with the lamp in his room, which followed a similar procedure. By the use of processors controlled by digital LED technology, the lamp was able to emit a different light within a varied color spectrum, according to a person’s state of mind. At night he was unable to deactivate it and he had to sleep with his room having taken on a slightly red tinge.
“Which department are we in?” asked James, trying to keep up with the pace imposed by the Director of Area 51.
“The sleeping quarters. When you woke up in the hospital last night, we decided to bring you to your room. That way if you were in a fit state to attend the meeting, you would be much closer to where it would take place.”
At the end of the corridor was a gigantic elevator. When the doors opened, the three of them stepped inside and were immediately taken aback by the size of the compartment that awaited them. The control panel was similar to that of any elevator, giving the user six possible floors from which to use between -3 and 2. It even had the typical locking system of some elevators which allows acces
s to the underground garage from the building itself. The upper electronic screen indicated that they were currently on floor “-3”.
What a letdown. We’re in the most secretive building in the world and it only has five floors?
Astonished, James observed how the Director slowly inserted a golden key into the lock and as he turned it, a hidden panel within the wall itself began to unfold. It was a control panel into which he typed an alphanumeric code of eight characters. After he punched it in, the sound of hinges could be heard inside the elevator. Both James and Richard looked around but when they glanced back, the panel had disappeared and in its place was a digital fingerprint reader. This time they didn’t take their eyes off the device and when they again heard the sound of hinges, they turned white as they saw it move to the right and a new reader come in from the left; it was a retinal scanner. The security was simply incredible. Despite the three previous tests, a fourth object appeared out of nowhere when the Director’s eye had been recognized. The device was similar to a lancet and also served to take a drop of blood. He later placed it carefully on a piece of glass which disappeared from view as if by magic. It was identifying him by his DNA!
After a few minutes, the machine gave its verdict.
Good morning, Director. How are you?
“Fine, Agatha. We’re in a bit of a rush. Take us to the scientific laboratory, would you?”
“It would be my pleasure, Director.”
“Agatha, allow me to introduce you to Mr. James Oldrich and Mr. Richard Matheson. They will be collaborating with us for the next few days; perhaps you’ve seen them wandering around the site.” Charly fell silent for a few seconds and leaned over to his two companions. “Agatha is a supercomputer, able to interact by herself and make complex decisions - in other words, she thinks. She carries all the internal security for the complex.”
Trifariam, The Lost Codex (2012) Page 36
