Alric was well aware, and did not understand why Afion was pointing out the obvious. He had known since the group had approached him that his research would be used as a form of weaponry, but he had also known that if innocent men could gain access, they could use it to survive as well.
Unsure how to answer, he inclined his head slightly and allowed Afion to lead. The man always had a point. His precise manner never varied, and even if one could not figure out the points from A to B, Afion always knew exactly what it was.
“How soon can this be produced?”
Everyone was looking at Alric now. Afion with demand, and all but one of the others with contempt and jealousy.
“The formula needs development and extensive testing. Realistically, two years is feasible.” Alric was reluctant to answer at all, but as he was the one being addressed, he had no choice but to give an answer.
“One.”
Alric barely managed to stop himself from shaking his head and disagreeing. No one disagreed with Afion. Those that did often disappeared. If Alric could not produce the results Afion desired, someone else would be found that could, using his proposal as a guide.
Scrambling for the best answer to give, Alric’s prayers crashed together in his head, and the simplest answer surfaced. “One year.” It was neither agreement or disagreement, but it earned him a single blink from Afion.
“Dismissed.”
Afion’s reception room was located on the top floor of Xis and opened out into a dark expanse of hallway that led straight to an armored elevator. Rather than the international landmark prints that had graced the walls of the room they had just vacated, the hallway was lined with black and white photographs of weapons that spanned from biblical times to modern.
No one spoke until they stood inside of the elevator, then Dr. Ermikov turned on Alric. “How dare you present something to Afion before I even had a chance to review it?”
Alric had known the reprimand would come. He had not expected it to happen in front of the others, although they were all technically his superiors. He rocked back on his heels and let the man have his tirade.
“I assumed you were carrying a copy of the same information I was. Obviously, my trust in you was misplaced. Protocol dictates you follow an order of command, and you did not. If you hadn’t just dangled bait in front of Afion that he wants, I would fire you.”
Dr. Ermikov was angry, but behind that emotion, Alric could see fear. Losing any semblance of control in front of Afion could prove deadly, and Alric was as aware as the rest of them that his actions could have repercussions that extended further than himself.
He refused to lie to the man. He had done what he had felt led to do. “I apologize. I felt it was important to bring something that would prove my continued usefulness,” he explained truthfully.
“Leave him be.” Yaro Tabor was a Hungarian native who tended to remain silent. He was also the only one that had not looked at him like he was a snake when he had presented his safeguard. Alric was still surprised to hear him speak up in his favor. He was the assistant lab director and Alric had often wondered if he coveted the job Dr. Ermikov held.
The two faced off, but neither managed a word before the other occupant of the elevator, Omar, spoke up. “I just want to know what it was that managed to snag the Great Afion’s interest?” His tone was not friendly.
Alric wished Omar had stayed quiet, even though it didn’t matter. Now that Afion had accepted his proposal, what he was working on would soon become common knowledge and the inevitable race to be the first to produce a viable sample would ensue. He was already ahead of that game, but competition did not bring out the best in his peers.
“It’s just a vitamin mix.” He had no intention of telling them that he had presented a synopsis that he had updated from several years ago.
Alric was not stupid. Having full access to the equipment and supplies of one of the most modern laboratories in the world had given him an opportunity to simultaneously work on several projects at once, and thus, the information he had handed over earlier, had been documentation that reflected the beginning development of a concoction that was actually well on its way to completion.
The vitamin surge he had proffered an explanation of, was already in its final stages of testing and he had suggested the two-year timeline knowing Afion would not take it.
That had gained him time to continue to operate as he had been. Carefully, but with far more in mind than handing over the final stage of the triage Afion had honed in on.
Alric’s ‘weapons’ had been filtered, just as his paychecks had been. First the protein packs, then the hydration pods and, as soon as he was able, he would begin funneling the vitamin surges along the same routes. Someday, if it was necessary, and Alric feared from his visions that it would be, he hoped to use his contraband inventions to save lives. He was sure Afion had no such goal. Not without specifications and guidelines that no normal citizen could meet.
Chapter Three
“I’ve been in this place way too long,” Alric muttered at his microscope.
He had found himself on Xis’s radar after writing an article for a scientific magazine about the protein packs and the initial positive test results.
A request for a conversation had come not long after, delivered by a professor who worked with students in the laboratory. Alric hadn’t known the man by anything other than name. Citing that Alric had gained an admirer for his work, a video conference had ensued.
Alric still had no idea who the face had been that had asked questions and plied him with praise. At the time he had been flattered by the attention. When he had mentioned his plans to create a small portable liquid that would hydrate for extended periods of time, Xis had offered him a job with a salary that had astounded him. He had asked for a day to think about it and his prayers had led him to accept.
It hadn’t been until almost a year into his employment that he had begun to hear the rumors that Xis wasn’t the noble front they projected.
He had known that Afion had a strong military background and was always seeking warfare advancements and weaponry that would aid troops. In the beginning, Alric had admired what he had thought was compassion and purpose.
The rumors claimed links to genetic and human testing and experimentation. They had alleged unethical practices being buried, including experiments gone wrong. Then more muted talk about unauthorized attempts at cloning, injection of unstable substances, and exposure to biological warfare agents.
He had done his best to withhold his judgment about Afion, since at that time he had never met the man.
His first meeting had been short, but the impact had been powerful.
Alric’s visions had started in his early teens. They hadn’t been as intense then, and he had done his best to ignore them for most of his life.
The sight of things he knew did not exist had been harder to dismiss. Harder because they weren’t in his head, they were outside of it, demons mostly, an occasional angel. On people, around people, next to people, in people. None of it made any sense to him.
He couldn’t even recall the details of his first face-to-face encounter with Afion. All he could remember were the small demons crawling all over the man.
He had read that seeing such things was a gift. If it was, he had never wanted it. As a teen, it had frightened him, causing emotions and feelings that made him feel unsteady and restless.
Being orphaned as a child had been wrought with enough turmoil that keeping his head clear and focused had been vital. You never let other orphans know a weakness.
It had served him well with Afion. His childhood had taught him the valuable skills needed to portray himself as calm on the outside, no matter what was happening inside.
Wanting a quiet life tucked away in a small place he could call home had been born of that. It hadn’t been in the cards for him then, and now he doubted it ever would be.
Hissing out a frustrated breath, Alric shifted hi
s chair and reached for another of the samples he was testing.
“Purpose,” he reminded himself.
Why was he was reflecting on how he had gotten to where he was? Shaking his head, he rejected the answer that came to mind. It wasn’t close to the end.
He stayed at Xis because he felt like there was a reason to. The completion of his project was necessary, even if he didn’t like to examine his justifications too closely. Xis funds were making it happen.
It was his theory that someday the packs and vials he was creating would save his life, and the lives of millions more. They would bring a freedom of sorts - if he could find a way to get them into the hands of those who needed them.
Theories he was good at.
If he allowed himself to take a good hard look at his situation, freedom was not something he would likely ever know. The outcome, based on observation and accounts from others, of those that found themselves in Xis, was not good.
Even if he did find a way to escape, Afion had a far reach. His military ties were strong. He was intelligent and ruthless. If he thought for a second that Alric had misled him, he would make it his personal mission to have him sought out and disposed of.
Sighing, Alric began the process of testing samples for viability. At least in the lab, he knew what to expect. As long as he was working on something that Afion felt would gain him more status or power, he was somewhat safe.
He just had to continue to find some way to be beneficial and he would survive. His choices had been his own.
Pushing away from his desk to retrieve another sample, Alric spun in his chair and reached out. The air in front of him swirled and dissipated into a strange translucent prism that vibrated for a moment, before a sound like thunder erupted in his ears. Dirt and debris clouded his vision as the familiar thickness filled his head.
Alric’s hand connected with the hard edge of the counter in front of him, scraping his skin. His brain connected the pain with what he saw from the explosion happening inside of his head. Particles from demolished buildings and ash from fire sought a home in the blank spaces of the air.
Unable to see clearly through it, Alric lurched to his feet, disoriented, struggling to place himself within the confines of the vision. His hand stung with pain and he spread his fingers to look at it, frowning at the smear of blood pooling in his palm.
“I am the one that stands.”
Startled at the voice, Alric lifted his head. The only others who could gain access to his lab without him admitting them were Dr. Ermikov and Afion.
The air had cleared somewhat. Alric sucked in a breath, coughing when ash coated his mouth and caught in his throat.
A mass of bodies were strewn in front of him, piled high on top of each other, the snow of ash taking refuge on exposed parts of the bodies. The sight was morbid, and the stench made him gag.
A dark fluttering figure blocked his vision for a moment. A sound like waves lapping in hyper speed gathered. His eyes followed the form as it rose to hover proudly above the open grave.
Afion was triumphant in his darkness, suspended by gray metallic wings. His eyes reflected the sheen of spilled blood, glistening as he seemed to draw it into himself like an offering.
The sound he had mistaken for waves came from hordes of demons, fighting around Afion to gain closer placement by his side.
As quickly as it had come, the images dissipated. Alric let out a long, tormented breath, and dropped back down into his chair. Cold sweat made him shiver. He leaned forward to hang his head over his knees as he got his bearings.
He had to make the things he was seeing stop. The physical side effects were affecting him too often at work. A camera always had its eye on them, seeking the weak.
Sometimes, the strength of the sensations that pulsed with the images was exhilarating and made him feel invincible. Then there were the ones that filled him with despair.
Alric did not believe that he was special. Like everyone around him, he struggled with life and the battle between right and wrong.
Faith in a God who promised His children had purpose had led him to the theory that maybe God had far more in store for him if he was willing to offer himself. He had read the Bible.
Giving himself over to another’s plan was a terrifying thought, especially if the visions he was having were directly related to God. To prophecy.
A few drops of blood fell. He watched them splatter onto the tiled floor, shivering at more than the sweat that had cooled on his body.
Did he really believe in the end of the world? Even if he did, it was unlikely that he would see it in his lifetime. How many millions before him had thought that they knew better than God? Who was he to believe that the images that continued to overtake him were more than just an unsettled mind?
Rolling his shoulders back, Alric rose to dig gauze out of the first aid kit on the wall beside the door. He wrapped it around his hand.
He had work to do, he reminded himself. If anyone was watching, he hoped they would think he had been clumsy and his reaction was to the wound.
Alric wiped up the blood and retrieved the sample he had meant to grab. Pondering the meaning of the vision would wait until later.
Chapter Four
Eitan noticed the posture of the man before him and paused, lifting his data screen to tap an icon. He knew the effect would be immediate. All cameras in the vicinity would temporarily scramble.
The men monitoring the screens would think nothing of it. His symbol would display on their screens until he disabled the signal.
He pretended to peruse the screen he held while using the action to observe the man who had captured his attention.
Ahead of him, Alric stood with one hand flat against the wall, head bowed, his body language clearly indicating pain or distress.
It was not the first time Eitan had seen the young scientist in a similar posture. He had been concerned for Alric, of course. God often led him to pray for those who suffered. He had prayed for Alric, but had not felt a peace. Rather, he felt God was calling him to pray more for the man.
Eitan knew as well as any that if Afion discovered that Alric was operating on less than full steam, it could end badly. Afion wanted what Alric was attempting to produce, but he was not a man that believed anyone was indispensable.
Alric was in a dangerous position. Whatever was afflicting him was obviously not under control, and Eitan knew that he had seen no doctor.
Eitan made it his business to know everything that happened within Xis walls. It was his job.
It was difficult to decide if he should involve himself. Xis was steeped in dark secrets, and Eitan well knew that everyone in the organization harbored them, him included. The key was to stay as removed as you could be, to not get too involved in anything or with anyone, and to do your best to come across as emotionless as possible.
Emotions were not welcome at Xis. Fear could get you killed. Enthusiasm was misconstrued and exploited. Sarcasm or anger were interpreted as a lack of devotion. Only reverence was welcomed. Idolatry.
Eitan hated everything about Xis. The bigotry. The lies. The secrets. Especially his part that he played. He wasn’t quite sure where Alric stood. The man was actively participating in creating warfare agents that, instead of being used for the good of man, would be utilized as a way to gain power and control.
He was handing them over without protest to an evil man who had no one’s best interests in mind but his own.
It was possible that, like Eitan, Alric had found himself in over his head before he’d realized the trap. Perhaps that reason was the subtle influence that drew him to pray for the man, and made him empathize with the signs of distress that were physically manifesting.
He felt that he should warn Alric that it was not wise to show any signs of weakness in front of anyone. But he couldn’t tell him that; by doing so, his life could be in danger. The fact that people associated with Xis often ended up dead was not knowledge that Eitan was privy to share.
Many knew, but it was not spoken of. Giving Alric any word of warning could lead back to him, and put his own role in danger.
Ahead of him, Alric abruptly straightened. He stood still for a minute, relaxing his body. He rolled his neck, tucked his hands into his pockets and continued down the hall as though he hadn’t just spent the last couple of minutes holding onto a wall for support.
That too, was curious. Headaches only seemed to overcome him for such short periods of time. Unless, he reasoned, Alric still suffered and it simply took him that long to gain control over his pain.
Eitan unscrambled the cameras and continued toward his own destination. He had been called to a meeting with Dr. Ermikov and Omar Cohen, the Analytical Services Manager.
Sudden meetings were never a good thing. He could not be thinking about Alric’s plight when he was dealing with Xis business.
Ermikov and Omar were a handful. Their needs for his presence inevitably seemed to mean that something deplorable had happened, or was going to happen. Typically, they also meant a lot of work for him. Damage control, recruitment, or worse, disposal.
Dr. Ermikov looked as unhappy and annoyed as he always did away from Afion’s presence. He was a negative man, unscrupulous, driven by his need for validation, power and money. Eitan couldn’t stand him. He knew that the man was responsible for hundreds of deaths and that he had gained his current position by proving his worth at the expense of innocent lives.
Omar was not much better. He was a sociopath with a hunger for brutalizing women using excessive means of unnecessary torture. His position allowed his sick urges to be fed regularly.
“I am needed elsewhere,” Eitan said shortly as he settled into a chair. “Will this take long?” He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at them, a practiced move that gave off an air of superiority that served him well in his role.
Omar leaned forward, anticipation and excitement on his face, unbothered by the look. “No. We were just told to update you on a new development.”
Seal One Page 2
