“Your identity has been confirmed.” Idem released the Mirage Builder and the fort came into view. It was like watching a TV turn on—one moment there was nothing, the next, a complete image. They walked through the temporary portal. As soon as they stepped through the stone archway the fort became invisible to outsiders again.
Fort Belvoir was the oldest military base in the United States. While many of the others fell into decline over the years as war became scarce, the government kept Fort Belvoir in working order. The nations of the world were at peace, but there were still plenty of criminals to deal with—drug dealers, thieves, murderers. But those kinds of people were below Donovan’s paygrade. It was his job to catch the people who threatened national or world peace.
Fort Belvoir was on a huge plot of land, most of it used to grow food and raise animals. There were two massive buildings, sleek with glass tinted black. A thin, elegant bridge connected them. One was about nine stories taller than the other. Donovan knew from previous visits that those extra nine stories were off limits to everyone except those chosen by the General to have access. A white access card would be linked to their Idem profile. When they no longer needed access, the card deactivated.
As far as Donovan knew, no one had used those extra floors in years. Didn’t have an emergency big enough, he guessed.
Christina led him to the taller building. The glass doors slid apart to allow them entrance then closed behind them with a soft whoosh. There was a sense of finality about it. Donovan was surprised to see that the place was busy with soldiers. They rushed across the room in both directions, in small groups or individually, their shiny shoes clacking against the tiles. They whispered to each other urgently and glanced in his direction as they passed. Many of them recognized him, expected him even, judging by the unsurprised looks on their faces.
Five people manned the information desk in the center of the floor. All but one of them was busy with phone calls. The free man’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of Donovan.
“Brigadier General Knight, sir,” he said, emerging from behind the counter and almost tripping as he stubbed his toe on the corner. “Ouch—we’ve been expecting you. I’m Private Cole. I am to escort you to the General. Please, follow me.”
“I’m afraid this is where I leave you,” Christina said.
Donovan said goodbye and followed Private Cole to the elevators. The Private raised his palm to a sensor on the right, and a red light, in the shape of credit card, shone from his hand. It was a minimal security pass—it allowed him to get into things like store rooms, file cabinets, and, of course, elevators.
Donovan watched the numbers light up as they ascended. It was a quiet ride. They stopped at floor fifty-one. The door opened to reveal another elevator directly across the hall.
Private Cole turned to face him.
“I have your access card here, if you’d like to sync Inserts.”
“Don’t have one,” Donovan said. “But I think my watch will suffice.”
Donovan held his wrist next to the Private’s palm.
“Transfer Brigadier General Knight’s access card,” Private Cole said.
Instantly, Donovan’s watch beeped and a white card hovered above its surface. Then it disappeared. Donovan’s inventory now held a white access card. He was astounded. His stomach clenched with both worry and excited anticipation. They must have found the national leader of x5 cells. That had to be it. Right? No, maybe they had discovered that x5 was worldwide.
It had to be the world, not just the country, to warrant a white access card. The way the staff scurried to and fro down below almost nervously, as if hysteria were just about to break open, affirmed his suspicion.
“Thank you, Private.” Donovan dismissed the clumsy solider.
“General McGregor is expecting you on floor fifty-five, sir.”
Donovan nodded and the Private vanished behind the elevator doors. After holding his watch to the sensor on the left of the elevator, Donovan stepped inside and pressed number fifty-five. Silence engulfed him. Again, he felt that sensation of nervousness. He wanted to know what was going on so he could jump into the action. He needed to do something.
The doors opened to pandemonium. For the first three seconds, Donovan was only aware of papers and manila folders soaring in the air like birds. Rows upon rows of desks lined the huge room which spanned the entire fifty-fifth floor. There were soldiers everywhere, of every rank, all of them tripping over each other in their haste to reach their destinations. The ones who were sitting were no less calm—they typed frantically at their computers, eyes never leaving the screens. Many of them rubbed their temples or pulled at their hair. Voices rose and fell in loud clamors.
He grabbed the nearest person by the arm—a little roughly in an effort to snap her out of the frenzy that had taken over the room. The woman’s blonde ponytail whipped around as Donovan pulled her to him. She stared at him, eyes unfocused, mouth gaping like a fish.
“Where’s General McGregor?”
She looked toward the back of the room. Donovan followed her gaze and spotted the General standing behind a desk on a raised platform, barking out orders at everyone around him. Donovan headed over, dodging soldiers as he went.
The General spotted him as he approached.
“Brigadier General Knight!” he called in a booming voice.
Donovan shook the General’s hand.
“Just the man we need.” General McGregor didn’t smile. He almost never did. But his shoulders relaxed infinitesimally and the creases on his forehead lessened—the closest to relieved anyone would ever see him.
The General held up his hand to silence the crowd around him.
“Everyone take fifteen. Reassemble here at 1705 hours.” The soldiers dispersed. A few of them looked disappointed.
“Follow me, Knight.” The General turned away without waiting for a response. Donovan followed him to a silver door tucked away in a corner of the room. The General swiped his palm across the access pad. A black card appeared and disappeared—the right of admittance to any and everything at any time. He was the second most powerful man in the nation—right after the president. The other military branches were practically extinct. The leaders of them were really only in honorary positions.
The General gestured for Donovan to enter first. Once the door was secured, he sat behind a large desk with a glass surface. The computer installed inside it projected an image of the General’s family on vacation somewhere tropical, all smiling like they were having the time of their lives. Then it switched to a picture of the General shaking hands with the President. The images continued to shift as the leather seat creaked under the General’s weight. Donovan sat across from him and waited. It was never a good thing to pester General McGregor with a lot of questions. Best to let him do all the talking first.
“As you could see out there, we’re in a bit of a panic.”
Donovan thought that “a bit” was an understatement but kept the thought to himself. The General looked Donovan directly in the eyes. He had a stern stare—not unkind but clearly unwilling to tolerate any defiance.
“I have a mission for you.”
Well, that was obvious.
“It involves exposing you to top secret information. And I mean information you cannot share with anyone—not your wife, not anyone.”
“I understand, sir.”
The General held up a hand.
“This mission, if you accept it, will possibly cost you your life.”
Donovan couldn’t resist. “I always risk my life, sir.”
“That’s not what I meant. The nature of this assignment involves—things—that may change your life as you know it. What you choose to do may change the world as we know it.”
Donovan shifted in his seat. “Sir, can you just tell me what’s going on?”
The General sighed. This, more than anything he had seen so far, increased Donovan’s trepidation. A tingle of fear began to leech into the pit of h
is belly.
“Donovan.”
Donovan frowned. The General never used his first name, even at informal events.
“This mission demands that you sacrifice everything.”
Donovan stared at him. There was something wrong here.
“Sir…”
“Are you willing to accept that?”
“…Yes.”
The General nodded. “Good.” He cleared his throat. “If you accept, I will give you the access card you need so I can release classified information.”
In answer, Donovan held up his wrist. The General transferred an access card to Donovan’s watch. It was black.
“Sir, what’s going on? Why do I need a black card?”
The General stood up and began to pace. Once again, Donovan’s mind was blown. The General was such a steady, calm man. Donovan had always admired him for it—he was always in perfect control of his emotions.
The General’s nervous energy transferred over. Donovan began to tap his foot rapidly on the floor.
“Understand, even with a black card, I can’t tell you everything. You can’t know the full details of the mission until you reach your destination.”
Before Donovan could ask where he would be going, the General rushed on.
“But here’s what you can know: there has been a massive biological attack on the world. It started here in the U.S. and has since spread to every country on the planet. Millions of people have been infected with a deadly virus—it attaches to the genes, becomes indistinguishable from them, and appears benign for several years, then it suddenly starts to attack the host. We’re not sure what triggers it, but people are slowly dying everywhere. Most of them don’t even know it yet. It’s slow-acting.”
A suspicion began to form in Donovan’s mind. “This virus…”
The General nodded as if knowing what Donovan was thinking. “Yes. It’s the same benign virus that was found in your blood all those years ago. You were the first known case. And now it’s everywhere. Everyone at this base has it. You have it. I have it. I have confirmed that your wife and children have it, as well. You’re wife’s condition is the most advanced of your family.”
Donovan’s heart seemed to stop. His brain froze. That’s why the General was acting so strange. He was dying. They all were. Maybe even the General’s own family.
This was the reason his wife had looked so ill recently. It wasn’t that she was being overworked; it was this virus—a virus that likely started with him. Flames of hot anger licked through his insides. His sight was smeared with the force of it. Whoever had done this would suffer for it.
Donovan’s face was hot. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you saying that I caused this?”
“We’re not accusing you of anything. And, again, I can’t tell you the details of what I know. Not yet.”
Donovan had to shake his head to clear away the fury. If he didn’t calm himself and think rationally, he didn’t know what stupid things he might say or do.
“How long?”
The General looked grim. “We don’t know. We hope we can avoid this disaster altogether.”
“Are you looking for a cure? Sir, I don’t see how I can help with this. I should be going after the people responsible.”
“You will. The cure is plan B. What we’ll be doing is sending you back in time.”
“What?” Donovan was angry again in an instant. There was no time for games. He didn’t understand what the General meant and didn’t have the patience to listen to an explanation. He fought with the rage, tamping it down.
“Your grandfather successfully built a time machine back in 2170.”
“2170? But I worked with him on it. He didn’t have a power source—”
“It’s likely that Tobias was testing you. To see if you could figure out a solution on your own, like he had.”
Donovan was stunned. Time travel had been available this whole time and his grandfather never shared it with him.
“When Tobias shared his invention with my predecessor, he requested that Tobias not reveal it to anyone—that it remain a government secret only to be used in the worst of times.”
“And as an employee of the government, of course, he had to obey.”
“Yes—but it wasn’t by force. Tobias, I think, understood the implications and possible consequences of time travel more than anyone. Only a very few people know the technology exists—Tobias, the President of the United States, the heads of all four branches of the military from 2170 onward—and now you.”
There was a long pause. There wasn’t enough time to assess all this—not enough time for him to wrap his mind around the idea of time travel. What would happen if he went back in time and changed something that wasn’t meant to be changed? Could he stop himself from ever existing? Could he stop himself from ever having met his wife? Having children? Not just any children but his children?
Now he understood what the General meant. It wasn’t about sacrificing his life—it was about sacrificing his identity, his family, which was far worse. But if he didn’t do this, then…
“Donovan,” the General said, “the world needs you now more than ever. We have an idea of who’s behind this…”
“Who?”
The General tilted his head. There was an odd expression on his face. Donovan was almost getting used to this new General—the one who had facial expressions, who felt things, who paced the floor with such energy. He thought that he might like him even.
“I can’t tell you that.” General McGregor looked—what? Sad? Frustrated? “All of the details of this mission are classified until you actually go back.”
“Go back to when?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
Donovan restrained the urge to kick the desk. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Okay,” he said, “When do I go?”
“Now.” The General tapped something on his palm and there was a dim whirring sound to the right. The scenic picture of a boat on a lake surrounded by mountains disappeared—there had never been a picture there to begin with. It was just a projection.
Hidden behind the illusion was a small tubular room made of metal. Donovan recognized the design from his grandfather’s prototypes. The only difference was that this one glowed with a blue light—it worked.
The General motioned for him to step inside. Donovan became very nervous. He wasn’t used to this—the unknown. He had always been able to see his enemies clearly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it. He hesitated in front of the machine.
“I need to call my wife. Let her know that I’ll be gone…”
The look on General McGregor’s face gave him the answer. “You can’t call her. Besides, if you fix things in the past, you’ll never be sent on this mission.”
“But…”
“Brigadier General Knight…” Donovan was a little startled at the General’s return to formality. The man’s face was perfectly neutral now. He wondered where that other General had gone—and if he would ever see him again. “May I remind you that the entire human race is relying on you? Including your wife and children.”
Donovan straightened his shoulders and stepped inside the machine. He looked at the General through the glass door. The General stared gravely back.
“I’m transferring the brief to your watch. Do not open it until you arrive at your destination.”
“Yes, sir.” Suddenly his watch seemed to burn at his side, a secret nugget of information calling his name. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where I’m going at least?”
The General’s lips twitched. Maybe that other guy was still in there somewhere. “Nowhere… They’ll be expecting you.”
Before he could ponder this, the General tapped his palm and Donovan was sucked into a whirlpool of white and blue light.
Chapter 4
“The truth is, we’re all cyborgs with cell phones and online identities.”
—Geoff Johns
&
nbsp; May 4, 2176
Fort Belvoir, VA
Donovan Knight
Donovan felt as if he were being sucked down a drain. He was being pulled so hard and so fast that he couldn’t move his body. He could do nothing but sink into the terror of temporary paralysis. Any effort to shift even an inch resulted in a strain in his muscles that left him weak.
He could do nothing but ride it out. His head was spinning, then splitting. He felt pain beyond anything he had ever felt before—worse than being shot with a fatal setting on an electron gun, worse than third degree burns from explosions, worse than having his face cut open by a nine-year-old. He didn’t know what to do with the agony—he blacked out.
When Donovan came to, the motion of the time machine had slowed. His brain seemed to expand under his skull, to pulsate as if to the ticking of a clock. Tick-throb, tock-throb. Exhausted from the pain that had ripped through him, he drifted back into unconsciousness.
When he woke the second time, he stayed awake. The time machine had come almost to a stop. The feeling now resembled a descending elevator that slowly rotated. The white and blue blur that surrounded him began to fade in places, revealing human faces. But the spinning kept any of them from becoming clear.
Finally, the machine stopped and the whirlwind of light died.
At first, Donovan thought that the time machine hadn’t worked and was angry and sick at the thought that he would have to endure another trip like that. Then he realized that the office outside the time machine was similar to the one he had left but not exactly the same. There was a desk in the same place, but it was different desk. The same plant in the far corner, but it was much shorter. And the man leaning against the desk looking at him was not General McGregor.
The doors to the time machine opened and Donovan reluctantly exited.
He stood before a man of medium height. A Caucasian man, balding slightly, dressed in a General’s uniform. He had a thick, bristly, white mustache to match his hair. This man held the same position as General McGregor in the present—or future? He supposed technically this was the present.
The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1) Page 5
