He returned to the first screen. The female journalist looked nice. Very nice even. He smiled when the familiar hunger rose in him. It was always there. Sometimes it burned more intensively and sometimes it was weaker. But it never stopped burning. Never ever. It was a part of him. The intense fire that demanded sacrifices.
The watch on his wrist vibrated lightly. He looked down and smiled. It was time for his daily injection. It was something he enjoyed every day, the process had been going on for a couple of weeks now and he knew that he had developed and that the process would extend his life. John had since he was a kid, felt an indefinable sense of inferiority towards other people. It had been a powerful driving force for him and had motivated him to develop both physically and mentally but it was not enough, he needed more.
As an extra bonus from the research programs his researchers was working on, John himself could enjoy the fruits of their labor. He had ordered that a specially designed cocktail of different synthetic steroids would be made unique for him. It was a unique in history. Never before would a man undergo such a specialized transformation as he would do. In addition to his daily strict regime of diet and exercise, he received injections that would transform him into something similar to a god. It was not completely risk free but it was worth it. He would show both Arik and the group what potential he had. A faint knock was heard and the door opened and Dr Ln'geem entered the room.
“Good day, sir.”
John nodded at the doctor.
“It’s time.”
* * *
The carriage arrived at the station and Lamm gestured to Malin and Denver to get out of it and move on in the long corridor to which they had arrived. The thick gold ring on Lamm's finger glimmered. The corridor was narrow, only a few meters wide and quite high ceiling. As she passed Lamm she again felt the weak, sour smell, she wrinkled her nose. She shook her head slowly for the smell to go away and moved on. Her eyes were drawn upwards. The ceiling arched high above them and was covered with thousands of tiny lights. Malin studied the corridor. She pointed straight up.
“What an odd design?” she said with a questioning voice.
Lamm chuckled.
“Yes, one of our research managers became over inspired and took his artistic intentions a little too far.” he paused, “There is a certain artistic freedom in Tabula Rasa, but this was not entirely successful. It is scheduled to be redesigned soon though. It will get a more uniform look.”
Denver took a step into it.
“I don’t know if its necessary.” he hesitated, “I like it.”
Malin nodded behind him.
“Me too.”
Lamm looked curiously at them and a sting of doubt appeared in her, his gaze rested on her for a few seconds too long.
“Please continue forward. We will shortly come to one of the bio labs. It is one of those who work with our human regeneration experiments and serum.”
Denver walked beside Malin.
“Isn’t that dangerous, not to say illegal? I mean, human experiments? What kind of human experiments do you mean that you do here?”
Lamm seemed unconcerned.
“Not at all, this is one of our most important labs. This lab works with a lot of different antibiotics and serums. We are at the absolute cutting edge in the research both within plant and animal research but also within human research” he paused, “Do you remember that outbreak of Tunis fever two years ago?”
Both Malin and Denver nodded.
“The outbreak lasted for five weeks. Three thousand five hundred dead, ten times the number of invalids for life. A real tragedy.”
Malin remembered. The outbreak had started in Tunis, at a monastery of all places. One morning several of the monks had woken up with high fever and cramps. The sick had immediately been isolated and help had been called for. But the doctors had no diagnosis of what it could be, they were powerless. No medicines or treatments helped. The cramps that the patients experienced were so powerful that several of them broke their bones in the body when the cramps struck.
After two days, seven patients were sick, after three they were seventeen. The treatments that were given to the patients had been ineffective. All the suggestions of what it could be was wrong, and none of the treatments had worked. And the nightmare had begun. In two weeks the disease had spread outside the monastery and thousands more got sick and died.
And then, like a miracle, it had stopped. The sick became healthy overnight. Just as if everyone had received the medicine at the same time, though it was impossible. People who were almost dying had miraculously sat themselves up after a day or two, without any detriment. It was unbelievable.
The researchers had analyzed all imaginable explanations but nothing explained what happened. Broken bones usually did not just take a few days to heal, but now it did. The doctors were perplexed and despite all analysis, it was still unknown how it had happened. In the tests that were done, it could not trace the medicine that was behind this amazing recovery. Lamm gesticulated at them to keep on walking.
“It was us. We were the ones who had the medicine available and when we saw an imminent catastrophe, we intervened.” He silenced. Malin hastily spun around.
“Was it you?” Her voice went up an octave.
Lamm smiled at her and nodded.
“Yes, it was us. We want to help mankind and we saw an opportunity to do it.”
Hundreds of questions bubbled up in her, but she controlled herself.
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?" She paused, "Everyone thinks that it was some kind of a miracle that happened. Why not take the credit?”
Lamm looked straight ahead.
“At Tabula Rasa we’re not interested in getting any hero status or something like that. There was a need for help and I have to admit that it was not just an altruistic feeling of helping that affected our actions. If the infection had spread according to our forecasts, most of Africa had been infected within a month. And if that had happened, it had only been a matter of time before the infection found its way over to Tabula Rasa.” Lamm paused a couple of seconds and smiled, “So, you understand, it also was a part of self-preservation involved.”
Denver looked in suprisement at Lamm while they walked down the long aisle.
“But the world needs to know that it was you who helped them. Even if you don’t want the attention or gratitude for it, the sick has a right to understand what helped them.”
Lamm studied Denver and shrugged.
“You are probably right. But it’s not my decision. The decision to not inform the world was taken far above my head.”
Malin looked curiously at him.
“How did you manage to distribute the medicine to so many at once? Was it something in the water?”
Lamm smirked.
“No, it wasn’t.” he looked at her, paused, “It was one of the easiest things. To give medicine to many people at once is not difficult. Its simple logistic.”
“But how?”
Lamm arrived at the door and turned around against Malin and Denver.
“Drones. A vast number of small drones that are controlled by a distribution network. On a given command the antidote is distributed and voilà.”
Denver were just about to ask how the drones were controlled when Lamm put the hand on a sensor plate and the door slid open with a hissing sound.
* * *
John noticed the first injection going into his body. A gentle heat began to spread in his limbs, and he heard his own pulse pounding in his ears. His fingers became soft and warm. Small waves of dizziness rose up from within and he grabbed both armrests and breathed deeply a couple of times. He focused on the beautiful view from his window. The sun was high in the sky and reflected off the pyramids in front of him. A dozens of flying crafts of different sizes circulated the area in front of him, some on the way up, some on the way down. He focused on a cargo plane which after a long, slow turn went in for a landing, he blinked.
> “How are you, sir?” the doctors voice sounded concerned, “Shall we continue?”
John struggled to control his deep breathing and a certain amount of control returned, he nodded. The doctor studied him for a few seconds and returned the nod. He reopened his medicine bag and pulled out a syringe with a reddish shimmering content. The doctor tapped the syringe with his finger and held it up against the light. John observed it. It was beautiful, like shining blood mixed with microscopic diamonds.
The sun’s rays were caught in it and John thought it got a magical look. It was in these red syringes that the real magic was in. The treatment consisted of two injections. The first prepared the body while the other went in and began the transformation. He nodded towards the doctor. The doctor tapped the syringe one last time, disinfected a patch of skin on Johns arm, pushed the contents into his arm and pulled it out as he pressed a sterile bandage against the miniscule hole.
John glanced down at the bandage, bent his arm and looked out and saw the big, clumsy cargo plane go in for landing. Slow and deliberate, it turned around until it was on the right course. He stared fascinated on the four large rotating engines on the plane, slowly changing the angle, so the speed was reduced while the familiar heat rose inside. A glowing fire radiated out from his arm, slowly at first, smoldering, and then faster. He breathed hard, intermittently and he looked up, saw the cargo plane approaching the runway and extending the landing gear.
Inside his body, the microscopically small robots rushed forth and began their work. The fire in his body grew in intensity. The heat inside him rose to an inferno and his body became a volcano ready to erupt. The large cargo plane descended towards the ground, landed and rolled forward on the short runway.
He screamed and the volcano inside him screamed too.
* * *
John rested an hour and then informed Derek that he should bring their guests to his office. He sat behind the desk and the strength from the injections were rushing through him. He smiled widely when the door slid up in front of Malin and Denver, he waved for them to enter.
“Come in, dear, come in.”
Malin took the lead and stepped into the room, Denver followed a step behind. John stood up and met them and took Malin's hand. She noticed his powerful yet soft handshake.
“Welcome to Tabula Rasa,” John paused a second before he continued, “I hope you have been well received here?”
Malin looked up at John Vendrick III, who was a head taller than she was. His sharp features and strong chin was as chiseled in stone. The head was covered with dark hair, and his eyes were pale gray. His well-defined muscles moved beneath the expensive shirt and she got the impression that he was in excellent physical shape. His skin glowed and Malin could not see any wrinkles at all in his face. She had expected a middle-aged man and she had to make an effort not to stare when she saw the youthful man in front of her. John nodded at Lamm who remained standing outside the open door. Lamm took a step forward and closed the door. Malin looked at Lamm when he closed the door, turned to John and nodded.
“Thank you, it was kind of you. And yes, we have been well treated here.” She studied his eyes, tried to penetrate them, “It's really kind to let us come here.”
John's eyes sparkled.
“That’s good, but call me John. I have given Derek strict orders to take good care of you and it is nice to hear that my instructions are also performed as instructed.” he turned to Denver, “and you must be the famous Denver Mikkelsen.”
Denver was as tall as John. He met John’s eyes and smiled.
“Thank you, John. It was kind of you to meet us.”
John took a step back and gestured at them to follow him.
“Let us sit down and talk.” He walked over to a sofa set along the edge of the large room. John's scent reached her when she followed him, it was magnetic, intoxicating. She shook her head to clear her mind and looked around. Everywhere she looked, she saw precious art on the walls and beautiful sculptures placed around the room. She glanced over one of the paintings as she passed by and for a moment lost her breath, she could barely believe her eyes. The painting she saw on the wall could not be original, it was impossible.
On the wall hung one of the world's most famous theft items in the art world. More than sixty years ago, a spectacular theft had taken place at the Gardner Museum in Boston. One night two men had dressed as police officers, gained access to the museum. Once inside, they had overpowered the guards and in less than an hour they had stolen some of the world's most famous paintings, including the one Malin looked at in front of her. She did not remember the name of it, but she knew that it was painted by Rembrandt. The painting depicted a small boat filled with people who fought on a stormy sea. Malin remembered that she read an article about the theft several years ago. John's voice was heard behind her.
“Is everything ok?”
Malin spun around and damned herself. She had been in the room for less than a minute, but she had already made a fool of herself, she nodded and forced a smile.
“Yes, everything is fine.” She paused for a couple of seconds before she continued, “It was that painting, and it really caught my interest.”
John looked at the ship that was seconds from capsizing. He smiled.
“My Rembrandt? Yes, it really is a real gold nugget I have there.” He took a few steps toward it, “and the story behind it is almost as amazing as the painting itself.”
Malin kept silent and hoped it would entice John to share more information. She held her breath. John studied her carefully.
“The story is actually pretty interesting, if I may say so myself.”
She frowned in response to his indirect question whether he should continue.
“As you know, there was a famous burglary in 1973 at the Gardner Museum in Boston. The paintings were gone for over 40 years. But seventeen years ago, Interpol made a breakthrough. Eleven of the paintings were found after an anonymous tip, hidden in a warehouse in Milan that belonged to a local art dealer who had died three years earlier.”
Malin looked doubtfully at John.
“Eleven?”
John smiled.
“Yes, eleven. One had been destroyed during the escape. And the last one had disappeared. It was not found together with the other eleven.”
She was dry in her mouth.
John saw her reaction and laughed.
“Yes, guilty. It should be returned, I know, but it speaks to me. A friend of a friend managed to save the painting from the fate of being wrapped in a warehouse for decades and not having someone who could enjoy it.”
Denver stood silently behind Malin and John, they seemed to have forgotten that he was there. Denver walked up besides Malin and looked at the painting but saw nothing special. John pointed.
“There. Do you see?” His finger pointed toward the boat. Denver followed his pointing finger and looked. He saw some of the men in the boat sit together in what seemed to be a discussion while others fought so that the boat would not capsize. Denver shook his head.
“What am I looking for?”
John's smile grew wider.
“There”, he went closer and pointed at a specific figure that sat in the middle of the group of men.
“It’s Jesus.”
Denver gasped. Now he saw it. The man had long curly hair and he saw that the man resembled how Jesus used to be depicted on paintings and pictures.
“What is he doing? Is he hold a sermon while the storm is sinking them?”
John Vendrick III laughed and Malin felt his scent, but she could not take her eyes of Rembrandt's The Storm on the Sea of Galilee.
*
Tabula Rasa, Madagascar.
2048-12-28
Fear had granted her additional power but now she started to whiter. Elisabeth’s heart pounded in the chest and sweat poured down into her eyes and stung. She wiped them and blinked to focus. Her mouth was dry and sandy and she struggled to generate some saliva into he
r mouth.
She rushed on into the park and past a couple of futuristic fountains and the pouring, splashing sound calmed her down when she passed them. At this time of the day, the park was more or less deserted, not many people were on their way to their work or doing errands. There was something desolated about the surrounding. Elisabeth had reflected about it before when she sometimes had worked through the whole night and got home early in the morning but she never paid much attention to it. But now, as her senses was working overtime and she registered every impression as a potential threat, it was like every shadow contained something that could jump out and attack her.
She forced herself to slow down, she tripped and she nearly fell. In front of her the area opened up. Large holosigns showed the way to different places and were deployed at strategic points around the area. Stone covered walkways that cut through the park were sparkling clean and she saw the small automated cleaning robots slide around.
An elderly lady walked past her and raised her eyebrows. Elisabeth forced herself to walk and fixed her eyes to the ground. She followed a path that went to some service elevators that she knew were a bit further ahead. While she tried to move on as fast and unnoticed as possible she saw a couple of guards on the left that were approaching. Usually you rarely saw any guards at Tabula Rasa and when you did see them they used to be at a distance. Praxis within Tabula Rasa was that the guards kept their distance except when it came to an emergency. Elisabeth forced herself to walk even slower but she saw the guards in the corner of her eye getting closer. An icy feeling rose in her chest. She should run but it would have been useless. The guards were well trained and would catch up to her in no time. One of the guards got up and stood in front of her and she was forced to meet his eyes
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