by Dale Mayer
She swallowed hard and glanced at Jerry, who was still unconscious. “Did you shoot him with a tracking chip too?”
“No, besides he got caught up in the eddies and just stayed there, floating on the surface of the water. That wasn’t helpful,” he said.
“So you’re injecting people with chips and throwing them into the water to see if they drown or live?” she asked in astonishment.
Kevin shrugged. “Not sure that’s a long-term plan, but it sure works for getting rid of people we don’t want.”
She exchanged a hard glance with Samson. “You know how foolish this sounds, right?”
“Not necessarily,” Samson said. “You’re proof something is working.”
“I’m proof something completely different is working here. Professor Strauss is a crazy nutcase. You already know that, right?”
“More than you know. He paid your fiancé to get close to you. To keep Strauss informed of what you were doing, and when you were doing it. He kept track of every aspect of your life. But he couldn’t stop you becoming a doctor. His partner stopped him from interfering. See, it’s all about control.”
She physically stepped back, jolted by his words. Mark had been paid to be with her? That sleezy scumball. Straus trying to stop her completing her PhD was no surprise. That he had a partner was. Who was crazy enough to actually work with him? And why? Samson was still talking seemingly oblivious to Patrick’s bombshell. Yet it also made sense in a weird way. There’d been an odd distance between them. She’d blamed herself and her work, but maybe it was more because there was something missing between them.
“We’ve been over this,” Samson said. “Obviously not everyone feels that way.” He turned to Patrick, still on the floor, but who seemed to be regaining consciousness. “What part of Dr. Strauss’s crazy research theory does the US government think is important?” Samson asked Patrick.
“He has this weird device sending electromagnetic pulses to communicate with what he considers other electric energies.” Kevin looked over at his partner.
“Are you talking about psychic energy fields?” Whimsy asked, leaning forward. “Like auras or pure psychic energy?”
“Sort of but not really. He doesn’t use any psychic terms. That would make him a little too nutty. And, of course, individual donors or government grants and research money don’t flow in that direction. However, if he’s testing electromagnetic fields, offering some idea that can strengthen or weaken them, depending on what you need,” he said, “then maybe something is usable there and worth the big bucks.”
“He has several EMPs set up on the sound, where we’ve been trying to get data, depending on the pulse we’re sending out, as to what kinds of reactions the mammals are giving back,” Kevin said. “But we need a big power source to make it work, hence the platform. It’s giving him a second base to bound these EMPs off of. It’s all about harnessing Mother Nature’s energy to make her do what we want.”
Samson crouched beside him. “And this has been going on for about six months, right?”
Kevin looked up at him and frowned. “Yeah, it has been. How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve been tracking mammals and their migration patterns. For six months we’ve had a complete anomaly here that made no sense.”
“You mean, they’re moving in a certain direction that you didn’t expect?” Kevin’s eyes narrowed as he considered that. “That could mean the research is working.”
“What did you expect would happen? You’re sending out electric pulses, bouncing them off the geographical landmarks and using the platform to help send the pulses where you want them to go, and to track the waves. The animals are moving away from it. It’s not only foreign but it interferes with their way of communicating.”
“Only when it’s on full blast,” Patrick said with a shrug. “Besides, a certain amount of casualties are expected. It’s not just the mammals we’re looking at. We’re looking at plant life. We’re looking at anything along the plates.”
“What is it you’re trying to ultimately do?” Whimsy asked, getting off her chair, walking around to stare at him. “Because this doesn’t make any sense. You could just sit there and flash out electromagnetic energy until doomsday. So what?”
“Strauss says it’s all about control,” Patrick said confidently. “Making things do what they’re supposed to do based on what instructions you give them.”
“You’re trying to control the mammals in the sound by this machine?” she asked in disbelief. “Or rather the scientists are—not you. You’re just the hired muscle, right?”
“I am yes, but Kevin is a scientist.” Patrick nodded. “It’s not very big yet as far as a project goes, but we watched Strauss demonstrate it in the lab with his aquariums for the government types, and it worked beautifully. So once the testing phase is completed then it will go to a bigger testing phase.”
“The animals weren’t communicating with him. They were responding to the electromagnet pulse,” Whimsy said, staring at Patrick as if he had grown a second head. “Our government can’t possibly believe Strauss’s theory that each of those pulses at a different frequency says something different to the animals, can they?” Wow. She’d heard of some of this before, but it had never gone anywhere.
Samson turned to look at her. “That theory has been around for a long time.”
“Yeah, but the nutty professor added a couple twists. He’s added not just the frequency but the bursts and the timing of bursts,” she said. “So it’s like he’s trying to create some sort of underwater language.”
“Exactly,” Patrick said with a big chuckle. “That’s what the nutty prof told the government goons. You see? He’s not as far off base as you thought.”
“So why choose the Puget Sound?”
“It’s perfect for echo patterns. The nutty professor figured it out. Knowing that the research center was here, it would give him a certain amount of data, if you were cooperative and gave it to him,” Patrick said, twisting to look up at Samson, who had moved back several feet.
“And why would I willingly or unwillingly share that information?” Samson asked drily.
“Because you’d be at the leading edge of communication in a whole different way,” Patrick said.
“And what if you’re doing something else with all that EMP energy that you don’t realize?” Samson asked. “You know what electromagnetic energy does? It makes things vibrate. It makes things change and shift.”
“Well, of course. That’s what we’re talking about. Besides, what could we possibly be doing?”
“Affecting plate stability for one thing,” Samson said starkly. “You know it’s irritant vibration, and it wears on things like any other noise. You can’t blame the plates if they react.”
“You’re talking about the plates as if they’re active and alive,” Kevin said in disgust. “That puts you in the category of the nutty professor.”
“Not so much that they’re alive but waves like that beat incessantly, create a buildup of energy, and eventually things break apart to release that buildup of energy. But more than that, a special ecosystem of energy already lives around these plates. And that vibration is setting up changes within, making it spread wider, thicker, longer.”
“And?” Patrick sneered. “What difference does that make?”
But she got it. She stepped around so she could directly face Samson. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Yeah, seriously. And now we know why.”
“That’s what’s causing the problems we’re seeing?”
“What kinds of problems?” Kevin groaned in between his words as he shifted. “There shouldn’t be any problems. The science is sound even if different from traditional thinking.”
“You mess with Mother Nature,” Whimsy said in exasperation, glaring at the second gunman who’d been mostly silent since he’d arrived, “and, of course, there are problems. There are always problems.”
“We’re not messi
ng with Mother Nature. We’re just trying to communicate.”
“No,” she said. “You might be trying to communicate, but the trouble is, you don’t know what you’re communicating with. And now something out there is trying to communicate back, and you’re not listening.”
*
Samson checked in on Jamie once and found him out of body in his room thankfully—which explained how he could sleep through the fight in the next room. Samson persuaded Whimsy to finally lie down on his bed. He could see from her lack of color that the pain was really beating on her. The gunman had reopened her wound, and she bled at both the front and the back. He patched her up as well as he could, with Bruce standing guard over the gunmen. Then Samson coaxed her to sleep, if she could. He gave her a couple painkillers, realizing his medical kit was taking a hit and would need to be replenished soon. As he went to walk away, she whispered, “Don’t go.”
He came back and sat down, gently brushing the tendrils of hair off her face. He could see the pain in the glaze of her eyes. “You need sleep,” he whispered.
“I need the nightmares to stop,” she whispered.
He nodded grimly. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I don’t know all the details yet, but at least we’re well on our way to finding out what’s going on here.”
“You need to do some more research into the nutty professor,” she said.
“I don’t understand how anybody would listen to him.”
“Because, in his heyday, maybe twenty years ago, he had some pretty interesting theories. I read a lot of them, went deep into his research. He was working with the tectonic plates and vibrations. I don’t know if all that talk about communication and control is for real or just to throw us off,” she said. “But he was highly regarded. There was a lot of talk but nobody could figure how to put his research into trial runs to see if the vibrations he talked about would make any difference.”
“They were trying to move the plates?” Samson stared at her in surprise. “Nothing man can do will affect how Mother Nature shifts those plates, at least not in a good way. It’s based on the buildup of gases and pressure on the inside of the earth,” he exclaimed. Then he frowned. “I do remember some talk about it though.”
She gave him a wide smile. “You and I both know that, as does most of the scientific and the well-educated public, but Professor Strauss felt he had a way to stop or minimize the earthquakes. At least to release a buildup of energy, then his system would send vibrations backward. Think about a forest fire,” she said, shifting in the bed, her eyes falling closed and her voice slowing down. “Sometimes with massive fires that can’t be controlled, they light a fire, a backdraft fire on the opposite side so that, as the new fire burns toward the old fire, there is no new material to burn in either direction.” She brought her good arm out from under the blankets, reached up and grabbed his hand. “So now apply that theory to earthquakes.”
“But a fire can be lit along several kilometers,” he said. “How on earth could you possibly set up vibrations along a coast like that of Puget Sound and expect it to have any impact? The energy has to be released in order to control the movement of the plates.”
“About twenty to thirty years ago,” she said, “the technology was extremely outdated. But a lot of changes have occurred since then. I know a company was doing some work on it because I remember reading about it in one of his papers. Dr. Strauss talked about NAVCOM.”
“NAVCOM,” Samson said softly. “I feel like I’ve heard rumors about that. Something I just read …” He frowned, trying to recall what he’d seen …
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that platform isn’t something NAVCOM has put into place to test Professor Strauss’s theories.”
“Where would he get the money for this research?”
“To stop these massive earthquakes?” she asked. “That’s priceless. An incredible amount of donor money is out there, particularly if it’s something that can be kept private.” She smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s too simplistic. It’s too whatever. And maybe you’re right. But just think. If those tremors happen, and these vibrational waves can be directed backward so they meet in the middle, for all we know, it might work.” She groaned as she shifted again. “God, it’ll be a long night.”
“For you and me both,” he said. “I’ve got two prisoners, and I’ve got one injured man.”
Her eyes flew open. “It’s been a hell of a day,” she whispered. “Please tell me that you heard from Ned, that he didn’t leave the mainland yet. Because that would be too much.”
“We have had no communication signals,” he reminded her. “So I can’t tell you that.”
He watched as her eyes slowly drifted closed. He wasn’t even sure she’d understood his last words. He stayed at her side, stroking her good arm and holding her hand while she drifted off into a deep sleep. He lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed her gently. Then he laid her arm across her belly and stood.
There was room on the other side of the bed for him, if he got a chance to crash for a few hours. He and Bruce would have to take guard duty in shifts tonight, but hopefully, if this storm would ever die off, they could get help in from the mainland to deal with one dying man and two dangerous gunmen. Samson was afraid to even close his eyes.
On that thought he got up and walked to the door and turned to look at her. Her skin had a waxy look to it, and he hated that somebody had hurt her once more. He walked closer, leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. As he straightened the second time, he headed to the door. Jamie stood in the doorway watching them, an odd look on his face.
“What’s that look for?” Samson asked briskly as he brushed past his brother.
“I heard what she said about the vibrations,” he said softly. “That makes a lot more sense than the intruders’ talk about communicating with the animals.”
“Maybe. And maybe they are hoping one will lead to the other.” He stopped just short of where all the unwanted company was gathered in the main seating area. “Do you pick up any of that vibration stuff?”
“Not directly. But indirectly, I’m wondering if that research has something to do with either when I’m dying to get out into my freedom space or when I’m feeling sicker,” he said quietly. “We need data. They’ve been running these tests how often?”
“I might already have it,” Samson said suddenly. “I’ve been picking up all those irregularities for the last six months. It might have been going on longer, and I just didn’t recognize the initial signs. I didn’t understand why everything changed.”
“You need to tell me if you trust Bruce and Jerry,” Jamie said. “Because that’ll be one scary deal if they are working together with these other men.”
“I know,” Samson said.
He turned to study his friend. Bruce leaned nonchalantly against the wall where the double glass doors were at the front of the cabin. He held one of the weapons in his hand loosely, pointed toward the two men tied up on the floor, and now both were conscious. There was no need for him to hold on to the weapon at this point, but, then again, Samson probably would do the same. He, in fact, still had his revolver tucked into the waistband at the back of his belt, like he did every day at the island.
“I’ve known him for years. We went through university together, although always behind a step,” he said in a low voice, “but I’m not sure I trust anybody today.”
Jamie gave a clipped nod, appearing as old and mature as Samson had ever seen him. “Got it,” he said. “I wasn’t lying about his other assistant either.”
As Jamie moved away, Samson grabbed his hand. “You seem different,” he said. “Are you often just pretending to be a petulant child?”
Jamie gave a weary sigh. “This is me. The other times it’s also me, just when I don’t feel like I need to be as nice. I get violent mood swings, but, instead of going from super happy to super depressed, I’m super elusive to being an overly petulant child. It’s like I regres
s. I’m not sure why yet. But I’m hopeful that having Whimsy around might make a difference.”
And, with that, Jamie turned and walked away. He even looked different right now. He walked with his hands down, his shoulders back, his head high. As if he’d stepped into an adult role for a change. Samson didn’t understand any of it. He wasn’t sure that anybody could. And maybe that was why the doctors had kept Jamie drugged, because they wanted to study it more but, only when the drugs wore off did Jamie change personalities, like now. For a moment he wondered if Strauss had anything to do with his medications … but that was a rabbit hole to explore later. He’d sic Ned on that. Ned loved a challenge although right now keeping Samson out of jail was the priority. Still, if there’d been any interference from Strauss at the clinic, that would give Samson more incentive to get Jamie free of there. And he’d gone to great lengths to interfere with Whimsy …
And what Jamie had said about Bruce’s assistant seemed so adamant. Before now Samson had always ignored that accusation, thinking it was Jamie’s way of getting back at Bruce.
Samson stepped back slightly out of the sight of Bruce and the two gunmen. “Stefan?” he whispered.
“What?” came the faint tremor of an answer.
Samson detoured to his lab where he could shut the door. “Don’t you need to be here for me to talk to?”
“No,” Stefan snapped. “I don’t have much time. Talk to me.”
“Is there any chance Jamie is dealing with multiple personalities?”
“It’s possible,” Stefan said slowly. “But I think you’ll find it’s something more interesting.”
“Like what?” Samson asked in frustration.
“I think he’s affected by the energies he joins with on the other side. We’ll arrange for Dr. Maddy to do a full scan where she’s not interrupted and when he has no drugs still in his system. She’ll look at all the questions then.”
“Says you,” Samson said. He reached up and scratched his head. “All hell’s gone to pot here. You know that, right?”
