Pulse: A Collection of Short and Flash Science Fiction

by Frank Carey

  "What? How can you live with me and not have any stuff?" she asked as the booze took effect.

  "You'll figure it out, Olive," he said as he turned and headed for the door. "Remember to lock-up behind me," he said as he dropped his key in the candy bowl on the credenza in the hall. He instinctively ducked just as the water glass was about to hit his head. It flew past and exploded against the door. He waited, but no more glassware was inbound, so he walked out into the corridor and out of her life.

  "Damn you, Dr. Seth Marsden," she said as she collapsed into the couch and wept.

  ###

  Seth walked into his office, slamming the door behind him as he stormed over to cabinet and pulled out a bottle of rotgut whiskey and a tumbler. He sat behind his desk and poured himself three fingers of Old Rocket Fuel and downed it in one gulp before leaning back in his chair.

  Easy there, big guy. It’s not good to let the troops see you drunk, he thought to himself as the lovely glow of liquid death spread through his body. Of all the women on this planet, why did I choose to fall in love with Olivia Elizabeth Pratt?

  A knock on the door was followed by Margo sticking her head in and announcing, “Hey boss, the new person is here. What do you want me to do with her?” she asked. When no answer was forthcoming, she walked in and sat down across from him. Noticing the bottle and the tumbler, she asked, “Another fight? You okay?”

  “Yes to both. Margo, how the hell do you and Jim do it? You two have been married forever and have three incredible children. How?”

  “Lucky? Hard work? If I knew I’d write a book and go on tour.”

  He opened his eyes and sat up straight. “This is it. I’m through. I’m swearing off Olivia.”

  “Seth, don’t do anything you’ll regret. How many fights have you two had?”

  “A couple hundred in the last three years. What’s your point?”

  “Each one ended with you two getting back together. What’s so different about this one?”

  He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. She opened it and gasped. “Did you...”

  “Didn’t have a chance,” he said as she closed the box and handed it back to him. He opened a safe in the wall behind him and placed it inside. “And I never will.” He closed the safe and locked it. “Now, what were you saying about the new girl?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, Megan, or I should say Dr. Megan Smythe, Ph.D. times four. She’s here, so what do we do with her?”

  “Make sure her paperwork’s in order, set her up with a desk and a lab station, then brief her on the Project. Oh, and tell Sam to give her some time to get acclimated before he hits on her.”

  “Should I brief her on our resident Prince of Libido?”

  “Yes, definitely. HR will can his ass if they get one more complaint about his behavior.”

  “Just curious, boss. Were you like that when you were his age?”

  “I wasn’t like that when I was a teenager. No one is. That boy has enough sex drive for twelve guys. If only he wasn’t such a good nanomechanic,” he said as he looked at his watch. “Damn. I’ve got a meeting with Nat and Dragon Lady which I'm late for. Could you put that away for me?” he asked, pointing to the bottle and glass.

  “Sure, now get,” she said. When he was gone she got up and retrieved the bottle and its cap. Before sealing it, she took a whiff. “Shit!” she exclaimed while fighting back a wave of tears. “That man must have an iron stomach,” she said as she quickly put the bottle back in the cabinet and the glass in the tiny bar sink.

  Seth headed up three floors to Dir. Natalie Quinn’s office where he was to meet with her and Dir. Mavis Houng, the director of Level Twenty-Eight. When he got there, he knocked on the massive oak doors which seemed completely out of place in the moon-base style complex.

  “Come,” a voice said from the other side as the double-door opened ponderously inward.

  “Director, you really need a pair of slaves playing kettledrums when these open,” he said as he walked into the office.

  “I have them on order,” Natalie said from her chair in the middle of the room. It and two others were arranged around a small table, one of which was occupied by an oriental woman of indeterminate age. With intense green eyes and her fine black hair tied up in a bun, she intimidated most of the staff except for Seth. He just found her irritating.

  “Hello, Mavis. How was your vacation? Eat any puppies?”

  “Hello, Seth, no puppies. How’s your girlfriend? I hear she's already out shopping for a replacement.”

  “Enough!” Dir. Quinn said as she sat down and handed the two combatants drinks. “Am I going to have to have the two of you move to neutral corners?”

  “Sorry, Nat,” Seth said as he and Mavis glared at each other.

  Mavis said nothing.

  “Seth, I’ve called you here to brief you on some minor changes to the NanoBot Medical Program--what you call the System.”

  “What kind of changes?”

  “You are to continue your work, but I want you to forward all results and data to Mavis’s group in Section Twenty-Eight.”

  “Nat, Section Twenty-Eight is a military skunkworks. May I ask what they are going to use the bots for?”

  “That information is classified,” Mavis said while sipping her drink.

  “I have top clearance,” Seth said.

  “Not top enough,” Mavis replied.

  Natalie put her hand on Seth’s shoulder and said, “She’s right, Seth, I don’t even have clearance. This comes from the top of Mt. Olympus, where they don’t even use oxygen.”

  “I want it on the record that I think this an ill-advised use of the technology which borders on the dangerous.”

  “Duly noted and logged,” Natalie said. “Now, Mavis, do you have any questions?”

  She stood up and handed Seth her cup while giving a cobra-like smile. “No,” she said as she walked out.

  “I resign effective immediately,” Seth said as he put the glass down on the table before he could throw it into a wall. “I will not be a party to enabling that megalomaniac.”

  “Sorry, you can’t quit.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I won’t let you. I need your sanity to balance her...whatever until we can learn what she plans. Anyway, you haven’t gotten it to work yet, have you?”

  “No, but we’re close, we’ve narrowed it down to a dozen combinations of serum and nanobots. We just need time.”

  “Then concentrate on that while I concentrate on Mavis.”

  “Nat, I don’t think you realize how dangerous this can be. The line between saving a life and destroying this planet is a very fine one.”

  “Isn’t that hyperbole? I’ve read the reports...”

  “Ever watch a three hundred pound anvil dissolve in real time? I have and it was due to a mistake in a single line of code. My team knows this and takes every precaution. I can only hope Mavis does the same.”

  "Believe me, Seth, so do I. So do I."

  ###

  A week after their breakup, Olive found herself at the local lawyer-frequented watering hole having a drink at a table by herself. Lying on the table in front of her was a picture of Seth next to a half-eaten bowl of pretzels and several empty drink glasses. No one in the bar dared to come near her knowing her reputation and the rumors of the breakup. Normally there would be several eligible young men circling, but they had been warned off by the wiser, more experienced clientele.

  "Alcohol and pretzels. How you keep that girlish figure is beyond me," a voice said from the opposite side of the table.

  Olive looked up and saw her boss and friend, Sarah Voss, Senior partner at Voss, Schuck, and Murphy, LLP, standing behind the parking lot of empty glasses. "Hi, Sarah, sorry about the mess," she said as she tried to sit upright. The spinning room had other ideas. A moment later, as her vision cleared, she saw Sarah sitting down, the glassware and empty pretzel bowls gone, and a large mug of hot black coffee sitting in front of her. She
took a deep drink of the black brew, oblivious to its temperature.

  "How are you feeling?" Sarah asked as she sipped her ice tea.

  "Like shit. How do I look?"

  "About the same. I don't get it. You and Big Guy break up like clockwork. What's got you so shook up this time?"

  Olivia told Sarah about Seth moving out months ago and her not noticing until he told her.

  "Ouch."

  "And he dropped the apartment key in the candy bowl!"

  "Double-ouch. He loved those candies."

  "What the hell am I going to do? My calls go to voicemail and my emails bounce."

  "At least he didn't unfriend you."

  "No, he just 86'd his freakin account along with all his other social media accounts. But it gets better. All the photo frames in the apartment have had him removed from the pictures. There's me drinking with no one in Tahiti, or me hugging no one in Taos. One hundred and thirty two files with him removed from every one of them. I swear it was his programmer, Margo. She knows that computer shit."

  Silence interspersed with the sound of crickets.

  "Thanks, for being such a help."

  "Does he know about the Crenshaw case you've been working on?"

  "Yes, but we agreed to stop working when we came home, which he did. I, on the other hand, just forgot to come home for days on end. What the hell am I going to do?"

  "I suggest you wait a few days and then get a new boyfriend, one that isn't so much of a geek. I can set you up with a guy I know," Sarah said as she dug in her purse for a pencil. She looked up and saw a hundred dollar bill on the table in front of an empty seat. Olive was gone.

  "Too soon. My bad," Sarah said as she drank some more of her ice tea.

  ###

  Juan El Tigre took the elevator down to Section 19 while stripping off his motorcycle leathers. He had a long day of simulations ahead of him and wanted to get started immediately.

  Instead of a deserted hallway, the elevator doors opened to a noise-filled work zone full of workers, tools, and equipment.

  “Good morning, Juan,” Seth said as he walked out of his office. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “Boss! What the hell is going on here?” he asked as he dodged a lifterbot carrying a metal structure to three workers standing on ladders with their upper bodies in the ceiling plenum.

  “Oh, just having some equipment installed. Nothing to worry about. Did you get all of the digital data transferred to Section Twenty-Eight?”

  “Yes. Raj and I finished uploading everything onto secure terabyte hard drives last night and dropped them off at Dr. Houng’s office before we left for the night. Did you want us to start on digitizing the lab notebooks?”

  “No, we’re still using them. I plan to digitize them once they’re complete. Hell, Mavis has to sift through the terabytes of data we’ve already given her. It’ll take her weeks to catch up.”

  “Copy that, boss.”

  “Juan, do me a favor.”

  “Sure, boss, what do you need?”

  “Tell everyone we’re going to have a meeting at two in Lab Eighteen. It’ll be short.”

  “Not a problem,” Juan said as he headed to the lab while dodging another lifterbot.

  ###

  Olive arrived at the Crenshaw Building and parked across the street so she could see the Todihara Ltd. building next door. She sat there trying to decide whether to visit Seth or wait a little longer for him to cool off before she tried to reconcile. Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone crying for attention.

  “Hello, this is Olive Pratt,” she said.

  “Olive, Sarah. The client moved the schedule up. Where are you and how fast can you get here?”

  “I’m across the street and can be there in a couple of minutes,” she replied as she exited her car and walked quickly to the lobby.

  “Great! Oh, I see you. Bye.”

  Olive walked in and was greeted by Sarah and two lawyers who represented the company which owned the building.

  “Olive Pratt, this is Rex Johnson and Charles Moss of Johnson, Moss, and Gat, the firm representing the Crenshaw owners,” Sarah said, introducing the two lawyers.

  “Good to meet you. Now, what the hell is going on?” Olive asked.

  “What Ms. Prat means...” Sarah said, trying to defuse a possibly explosive situation.

  “What I mean is this. Three members of our little group are senior partners of the two largest law firms in the city. That doesn’t happen except inside a large room with oak paneling and a tray full of caviar, so what gives?”

  The three looked at each other, then back at Olive. “Follow us,” Mr. Moss said as he led them to an elevator. Once inside, he flashed a keycard at the control panel before pressing an unmarked key at the bottom. “This elevator does not normally make this stop,” he said.

  When they arrived they found themselves in an unused loading dock one level below the lobby. “The Crenshaw building is one of the oldest buildings in the city,” Moss said as he walked them over to a closet with an old wooden door. He opened it and turned on a single, unfrosted bulb hanging from the ceiling. Mr. Johnson looked around the empty space before grabbing a coat hook and pulling it down. The back wall slid away to reveal a well-lit, very modern stairwell leading downward into the bowels of the Earth. He smiled at the two women before proceeding downward.

  “The Owners found this a week ago during routine maintenance,” Mr. Moss said as they went downward. “They had no idea it was here and have no idea who built it or when. This goes down almost twenty stories to a single doorway at the bottom.”

  They arrived at the door which had a blown lock on it. Once through they found themselves at one end of a long corridor with doors every few feet. Mr. Johnson opened the first door they came to and turned on the light inside, revealing a room about ten feet wide by thirty feet deep. At the center was a chair with blood on the floor around it.

  They continued down the hallway. The next door was a laboratory. The next housed an armored personnel carrier. “How did they get that in here?” Olive asked.

  “No idea,” Mr. Johnson replied.

  They found a room with a pallet full of bags of white powder. Another door entered into a kitchen. Their journey ended at a large blank wall.

  “So this is why you had me cataloging every site work order you had along with bank records and pulled permits.”

  “Yes. Sarah said you were the most trustworthy person she had ever met, but we had to make sure none of this was from our client, so we kept you in the dark. What do we do now?”

  “Call the police immediately and get a CSI team in here along with hazmat and a bomb squad. I don’t think any of you are even remotely aware how much danger we're in. I don’t know what any of this is, but someone wanted it kept secret. They could’ve left IEDs, booby traps, and other really bad things just waiting to be tripped by idiots. You’re damn lucky we’re still alive. We leave, now! Once upstairs we call everyone and get teams in here.” she said as she retraced her steps out of the area.

  Once outside, she made calls and arranged for a conference with the police, fire department, FBI, and Homeland Security. When she finished, she took Sarah aside and gave her the short-form riot act.

  “Sarah, you’re my boss and my friend, so I’m going to give you the benefit of doubt. Did you know about this?”

  “Yes, but Rex and Charlie...”

  “Morons. Instead of covering their client’s asses, they should have called the authorities. Look, if you don’t trust me or my capabilities, then fire me. Just don’t put my shapely ass in mortal danger. We could have died down there and taken both the Crenshaw and the Todihara with us. Now, do you want my resignation or are we still okay?”

  “I didn’t know, really. How the hell did you know?” she asked as a dozen people in bomb disposal suits ran past, heading to the elevator.

  “Date a paranoid engineer like Seth. It’ll rub off on you real quick.”

  “What the
hell does he work with?”

  “Don’t know. He said he couldn’t tell me. One night he started yelling in his sleep, saying something about an anvil dissolving. He was scared, Sarah, really scared.”

  More people ran by, this time in biohazard suits. One stopped and said, “Please, come with us. We need a list of everyone you’ve come in contact with since emerging from underground.” He led them over to one of the trucks. “Please disrobe,” he said as a group of people in biohazard suits tested high pressure sprayers nearby while several others held up a makeshift shower curtain.

  ###

  The five members of Seth’s team sat in Lab 18 sipping drinks while waiting for Seth to arrive. All of them were in their mid to late twenties and all were geniuses with an average IQ of one hundred sixty. Juan El Tigre, Raj, and Sam specialized in nanorobotic engineering--they built them--while Margo was the programmer. Megan, the newest addition to the team, was an MD with Ph.Ds. in Biocybernetics and Electrical Engineering. Seth, in contrast, had a Ph.D. in cybernetics from twenty years ago. What he lacked in education was more than compensated for by his problem solving skills and experience.

  “So, where’s the boss man?” Sam asked as he smiled and winked at Megan.

  “He’ll be here,” Margo said as she gave him a pinch.

  Megan just rolled her eyes. She had Sam’s number within two minutes of meeting him.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Seth said as he walked into the lab with the toughest looking woman any of them had ever seen. She was tall, built like a rock, yet pretty, except for the unlit cigar she chewed on incessantly. “This is Gunnery Sergeant retired Tiffany Gunderson,” he said as she looked them over like prize steers at the county fair. He proceeded to introduce his team to Gunny Gunderson. Both Raj and El Tigre stood at attention and snapped a salute.

  “You two trying to butter-up an old warhorse?” she growled while returning their salutes then extending her hand. They both noticed the perfectly manicured nails and the C-shaped shrapnel scars on the back of her hand.

  “No, ma’am!” Raj said. “Our Captain told us about the exploits of Gunderson’s Raiders. The stories are the stuff of legend.”

  Seth swore the two of them were experiencing hero worship.