by Siegel, Alex
"Yes, sir," Virgil said.
"And Sara," Barachiel said, "the same goes for you. Tell Alfred. The First Circle Club has a new mission."
"I will," Sara said.
The angel and the demon faded away.
Haymaker turned to his companions. "Wow. I never expected this case would cause so much trouble."
Virgil stepped away and looked at the clutter in the basement while he considered how to proceed. A painting of a Chinese emperor had a cobweb across the face. A box labelled "Porcelain Plates" also showed "Made in Mexico."
"How many detectives saw the body?" he said.
"Just me," Haymaker said. "I was the first investigator to arrive, and the feds swiped the evidence a few minutes later. The forensics technicians didn't even get there in time."
"Why were you called to the scene?"
"I just happened to be close by investigating a different case. I'm on the sixteenth hour of my shift."
Virgil turned back around and faced Haymaker. "That was an incredibly lucky coincidence. Too lucky. I don't believe you just happened to be nearby."
"Are you accusing me of something?" Haymaker furrowed his brow.
"No. I think you were played. Whoever killed Corporal Hartmann placed the body where you would see it first. It was practically dropped in your lap. The perpetrator must want you involved, which means he wants all of us involved. He must know it's our job to look into these situations."
"But why would a murderer intentionally get our attention? Does he want to get caught?"
"Because it's not just a murder," Sara said.
Everybody looked at her.
"What do you mean?" Haymaker said.
"Hartmann being dead is much less interesting than Hartmann getting into Heaven. A sinful soul shouldn't be able to pull off that trick. Something deep and dangerous is going on, and Virgil is right. Our involvement didn't happen by chance. We're supposed to investigate, which makes me think it's a trap. Nonetheless, we must accept the risks and proceed. We have our orders."
"OK. So what's the next step?"
She paused. "Our best lead is the Office of Experimental Aero-Physics."
"A secret federal agency that doesn't list an address on its website," Haymaker said. "We're going to hit stone wall after stone wall."
"Sounds like a worthy challenge," Virgil said. "Let's get started. I think the first step is talking to Mei. She might be able to analyze the website and find some electronic clues."
Haymaker nodded. "It's worth a shot. I also have some information I copied off the ID card of one of the agents. I'll go with you."
"I'll hunt down Alfred," Lisa said. "His 'meaningful and important' conversation is done."
Virgil smiled. "Go get him."
He and Haymaker left the basement first. They headed across Chinatown at a brisk walk. Virgil didn't have a jacket, but the cold air didn't bother him. Haymaker was wearing an official Chicago Police parka, and he had his hands in his pockets.
"By the way," Virgil said, "why are you keeping such odd hours? It's not even breakfast time."
"I was on an all-night stakeout. I was about to go home when I got the call about the body in the golf course."
"After we're done with Mei, you can take off and let us continue the investigation."
"I was already planning on it," Haymaker said. "It must be nice not to need sleep."
"I miss having dreams. Perpetual alertness can get monotonous. One has to constantly find things to do."
"Like roaming the city in the middle of the night?"
Virgil didn't respond.
Chinatown was very quiet. Most of the stores had darkened interiors, but a few shopkeepers were getting ready for the day. Chinese restaurants were the main attraction, and beauty salons and gift shops occupied most of the remaining storefronts.
Virgil and Haymaker arrived at Li and Li's Electronics Boutique. Mei's father owned the shop, but Mei was an equal partner in the business. The members of the First Circle Club also worked part-time in the store when they were needed.
The store was locked, but Virgil had a key. He opened the security gate first and then the front door. They went inside.
The little boutique specialized in phones and phone accessories. An entire wall was dedicated to different kinds of chargers. Packages containing cases, covers, headphones, and batteries filled shelves which went all the way to the ceiling. Everything was brightly colored and sometimes made Virgil think of a candy store. The space wasn't much larger than a typical bedroom.
"Lock the door," Virgil said.
Haymaker nodded and locked the front door behind himself.
They went into a back storeroom. Poor lighting and bulky, stacked crates made passage difficult, but they finally reached a wooden staircase at the back. They climbed quietly to the second floor.
Virgil knocked on a yellow wooden door.
A long moment later, Mr. Li opened the door. The Chinese man was wearing red pajamas with dragons drawn in golden thread. He had black hair which had started to turn gray. He usually had a smile on his round face but not at the moment. His eyelids drooped from sleepiness.
"It's early," he mumbled.
"I'm sorry to wake you," Virgil said, "but we need your daughter's help."
Mr. Li looked past Virgil at Detective Haymaker.
"It's bad enough that you're bothering her all the time during the day," Mr. Li said, "but could you at least let her eat breakfast in peace?"
"I'm here on business," Virgil said.
Mr. Li narrowed his eyes. "Time-travelling terrorists again?"
"That's right."
Unfortunately, Virgil couldn't tell Mr. Li the true reason for the visit. He wasn't part of the team, and the secrets of the First Circle Club couldn't be revealed to outsiders.
"Who are you?" Mr. Li asked Haymaker.
"Detective Thomas Haymaker, Chicago PD. I guess I'm also chasing time-travelling terrorists. Tricky bastards keep getting away."
"I see." Mr. Li looked backwards. "Mei! He's here again! Come to the door."
He walked off.
A minute later, Mei arrived. Even though her hair was a mess, and she didn't have any makeup on, her beauty delighted Virgil. He had a special place in his non-existent heart for Asian women. She was skinny and as tall as her father. Her hair was naturally black, but she had given it purple highlights. She was wearing a pink polka dot nightgown.
"What?" she said in a sleepy voice. She glanced at Detective Haymaker and frowned. "Nice to see you again, detective."
"We need you to do some research using your computer," Virgil said.
"Official business?"
"Very much so, and it might involve murder."
Mei sighed. "And I haven't had any coffee. Let's go."
The three of them walked back down the wooden stairs to the store room. She went to a circuit breaker panel and flipped a few of the switches in a specific pattern. A secret door in a blank wall popped open. Lights came on in the room beyond.
Mei went first into her workshop. Virgil went second and had to turn sideways to get through the narrow opening.
Mei sometimes claimed she knew the location of everything in the room, but he didn't see how that was possible. Hundreds of small tools hung from hooks on a pegboard. Clear plastic drawers held wires of every size and color. Phones in various states of disassembly covered a work table. She had all kinds of computers and computer parts.
Her pride and joy was a workstation in the corner. Four giant computer monitors were hung in front of a reclining ergonomic chair. Cables connected peripherals to three sexy black computers. She sat down and turned everything on.
"OK," she said. "What am I doing here?"
Haymaker had also entered the room. He walked over and explained the situation to Mei. Her eyes widened when he related the conversation with Barachiel and Mammon.
"A cooked body," she said, "a secret government agency, a misplaced soul, a confused angel, and a pissed
off demon prince. Quite a way to start a day. What was that website?"
She brought up the page on her computer screen. It had black text on a white background with an American flag as a watermark. Except for the phone number, Virgil saw no identifying information.
Mei pressed a few keys, and window switched to show a bunch of gibberish. The text from the website was mixed in with a lot of computer codes.
"What's that?" Virgil said.
"Source code," she replied.
He had no idea what she meant, but he didn't want to reveal his ignorance by asking questions. He had been stuck in Limbo for thirty years, and he had missed most of the computer revolution. He was still catching up, but it was a slow process for a man who was technically ninety years-old even though he looked more like thirty.
"See anything interesting?" Haymaker said.
"No." Mei shook her head. "Somebody scrubbed the site thoroughly. No electronic fingerprints. There aren't even tags showing what software was used. This HTML is as plain as it gets. Let me check the IP address."
She typed some more.
Virgil watched her instead of the computer screen. He loved the shape of her face and the creamy texture of her skin. The two of them had a very friendly relationship which wandered into romantic territory occasionally. He always did his best to put her at ease, but she just couldn't get past the fact he wasn't alive. He also could never be the husband she deserved. He would never be able to give her a family, and his stay on Earth could end at any time.
"Strange," Mei said.
"What is?" Virgil said.
"The site is hosted by a commercial datacenter in Dallas. Government agencies usually use government servers."
Haymaker grunted. "Sounds like the Office of Experimental Aero-Physics isn't a real government agency."
"It's certainly something," Mei said. "Those agents you met today were real people."
"Speaking of which, I copied down a name and an ID number."
He gave her his notepad, and she entered the information into her computer. Virgil watched as windows full of codes popped up on her screen. Maybe I should ask Mei for computer lessons.
"I'm not getting any hits," she said, "and I'm afraid to keep digging. The government might trace the queries back to me."
"But this is our only lead," Virgil said.
"You want guys with guns kicking down my door? Secret federal agencies don't like hackers prying into their business. I don't want to end up in jail."
"Can you hide your electronic trail?"
"Probably," Mei said, "but I need to do it right. I don't want to rush."
"That's my cue to go home," Haymaker said. "I'm falling asleep. Thank you for your help, Mei."
He smiled at her and then left the workshop.
Virgil put his hand on Mei's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Take all the time you need. I'll keep you company."
Chapter Three
Dr. Theodore "Teddy" Harlow stared in horror at the corpse on the examination table. The mess reminded him of dog food. An enormously violent impact had shattered the body and had scrambled the parts, but that wasn't the cause of death. Intense radiation had cooked the man first, but even that might not be all. Harlow was expecting other unpleasant surprises in the medical examiner's report. He was glad he didn't have to perform the autopsy.
The dead man's name was Corporal Scott Hartmann. Harlow had spoken with him for a few minutes before the experiment, and he had seemed like a nice guy. He had certainly been enthusiastic about the research project. Nobody had told Hartmann about the two test subjects that had come before him.
Harlow was maintaining a calm, composed exterior, but he tasted bile. He was working hard to not throw up. He desperately wanted to leave the medical lab.
"Well," Colonel Jack Knox said, "at least we got the body back this time. We have something to study. That's a small win, I guess."
Harlow looked at the Director of the Advanced Physics Directorate and the Commander of the Crusader Special Unit. He had short brown hair and a round face. His pale skin looked a little flushed, but that was its normal color. A green Army uniform fit his broad chest and shoulders perfectly.
Harlow reported to Knox but didn't particularly like him. The colonel was an old-school military man who spoke of honor and duty annoyingly often. He had fought in foreign lands and had the scars to prove it. He was also ridiculously stubborn. Once he got his teeth into something, he never let go even if the cause was hopeless. Harlow didn't understand how Knox had received his current assignment as commander of a scientific research organization. He was well educated and knew some science, but that wasn't his natural calling by any means.
"I see it differently," Rena Penn said. "We finally have proof the test subjects are getting killed. We can stop pretending the first two will reappear safe and sound someday. We have to suspend the project immediately."
As the only non-military member of the project team, her role was ambiguous, and she had little official authority. She worked for the State Department as a "special liaison." She was responsible for diplomatic protocol, but it was more accurate to say she was a spy for the White House. The civilians in the government were a little nervous about what the military was doing in Chicago. Penn's reports reached the desk of the President, so everybody had to take her seriously even when she had no idea what she was talking about.
She was a very thin woman. Harlow assumed she was in her fifties, but she had slathered her face with makeup to hide her age. Her long black hair looked stiff and brittle. She was wearing a white sweater and a black scarf.
"Suspend what exactly?" Colonel Knox said.
"Sending men to their deaths. No more test subjects. No more fearless exploration of the unknown. It's time to take a big step back and rethink your project plan from scratch."
"Are you serious? Is that your official position?"
"Are you asking if I'll make that recommendation to the President?" Penn said. "I might. I'll certainly give him all the facts, and right now, those facts suggest your team is dangerously out of control."
The examination of the body was taking place in a bedroom on the second floor of a suburban house. The team had converted the room into a temporary medical laboratory, but the original wallpaper remained. Pink hearts and flowers on the walls showed a little girl had lived here. In every other way, the room was suited for performing sophisticated analysis. The selection of equipment included autoclaves, microscopes, centrifuges, and a mass spectrometer. The Crusader Special Unit was well equipped.
Other scientists and support personnel were also in the room, but they kept very quiet. Nobody wanted to get in the middle of this fight.
"Do you really have all the facts?" Knox said.
"I believe so," Penn said.
"Please allow me to review them just to make sure. I wouldn't want you to misinform the President on such an important matter. First off, Dr. Harlow has discovered a portal to an alien planet."
"So he claims. All we know for sure is that people who go in come back dead... or not at all."
"The physical readings certainly indicate an extraordinary phenomenon," Knox said, "one we don't understand. If it is a portal, the significance is beyond historic. It isn't an exaggeration to say life on Earth will change forever."
She crossed her arms and maintained a stoic expression.
He continued, "It is imperative that we learn how to use the portal safely. Access to alien worlds and technology would elevate the United States to unquestioned supremacy on Earth. We could jump ahead a thousand years. Getting our hands on ray-guns and flying saucers is worth the lives of a few soldiers or even a few hundred."
"A typical grandiose statement from the military."
"But still true. Furthermore, if aliens are out there, we need to find them before they find us. That's a matter of survival for our entire species. The portal might work both ways."
Penn rolled her eyes. "Dr. Harlow, I'm sure you have so
mething to add. You always do."
"Yes." Harlow cleared his throat nervously. "Corporal Hartmann was gone for at least thirty-five minutes. None of our instruments could find him, and all of his telemetry went dead. As far as we can tell, he ceased to exist. That's difficult to explain using known physics. Then he reappeared eight kilometers away in this condition." He glanced at the broken corpse. "It appears he was exposed to intense heat and radiation which couldn't have come from an Earthly source. Putting aside the question of aliens, these facts alone merit the most vigorous scientific investigation."
"Do they merit more deaths?"
He stared at her. "Truth sometimes comes with a price tag. Think of all the brave men and women who died trying to push the boundaries of the unknown. Dr. Livingston. Amelia Earhart. Robert Scott. Marie Curie. This research is at least as important as those efforts. We will do what we can to minimize the danger, but we must push on."
"You would know about price tags. How do you intend to minimize the danger?"
Harlow approached the corpse on the examination table. He didn't smell any decay, but he did detect an odd aroma which reminded him of baked cookies. He still felt sick. He wanted to get out of the room.
"We'll send a robot next," he said. "A modified bomb-disposal robot with a radiation-hardened control system. If that fails, we'll put a man in an armored suit. My scientific team will analyze the damage this man suffered and make sure the next one is properly protected."
"That's a good plan," Knox said. "I approve. I'll talk to the guys in the Survivability Directorate about borrowing one of their suits. They have some powered exoskeletons which are very promising."
Harlow looked at Penn, but her expression hadn't changed. He wondered what she would say in the report to the President.
"I have a question," she said to him. "I've asked it before, but you've never provided a satisfactory answer. How did you discover the portal? How do you know it leads to an alien world?"
They stared at each other in silence.
"It came to me in a dream," he finally responded. It was the lie he used most often.
"I have dreams all the time. They don't launch very dangerous, expensive, top secret, military research projects. You're lying."
