by S V Hurn
“No, you listen to me, Ruskie. I don’t give a damn about who you are or who you think you are, you’re MY bitch now. Get your fat ass up off that cot, and follow me, now, before you really piss me off.” Brenda grabbed him by the ear and gave it a good hostile yank and Dimitri followed, muttering some obscenity in Russian. Brenda laughed, “You wish, asshole.”
At the end of the softly lit hall they entered the room where Hans, Edgar, Magnus and Stuart were sitting at the round table, waiting. Hans stood and motioned for them to have a seat. “Good, we are all here, except for Henry who is presently too ill to join us. So, let us begin with introductions for our new guest. My name is Hans Grobler, and I oversee this mission. This is my assistant, Edgar Heinz. If you require anything that is needed for this mission or for your comfort, Edgar will try to accommodate your requests. This is Dr. Brenda Hyden. She is a molecular biologist, in charge of manufacturing the synthetic bodies you all will be occupying . . . except for Dr. Kern.”
Dimitri stood up to loom over those seated at the table and yelled, “What the hell are you talking about? I want no part of this so-called mission! I made the discovery and that is where it ends for me. I told you everything I know, and I demand you release me at once!”
Hans gave Brenda a nod. She drew a syringe from her lab coat pocket and jammed it into Dimitri’s neck. He went down instantly with a thud since no one had volunteered to break his fall. Without a qualm, Brenda stepped over his unconscious body and reseated herself. “Well, that went as well as expected.”
Magnus added, “Maybe when you upload this irritating arse’s consciousness, you might finesse it a bit to delete the most annoying aspects of his character—just a suggestion.”
Brenda nodded. “Trust me, I’ll do my best, he’s an annoying prick.”
Hans was tired of the constant bickering and he knew Henry would eventually take control of the squabbling, so he let it slide for now. “Yes, let us finish our introductions and get down to business.”
Stuart sat looking down at Dimitri wondering at the madness that surrounded him. Hans yanked him back to reality. “This is Magnus Connery. Magnus held out his hand and bowed his head slightly, “Her Majesty’s Secret Service, MI6 Headmaster of Intrusion, at your service.”
Hans stated the obvious, “While on the other side, if perhaps they find themselves in an alien civilization, Magnus should come in quite handy maneuvering through any database they might come across.” Stuart’s eyes glazed over with the incomprehensible feeling of being trapped in madness where there were no boundaries between realities.
Stuart shook Magnus’s hand without uttering a word.
Hans continued without skipping a beat, “We all know the importance of Dimitri’s field of expertise.” Hans shook his head and sighed, “He will take some time, but in the end he will comply.”
Hans demanded of Stuart, “For now we need four cryogenic tubes. Can I trust you to take charge of this request?”
Stuart snapped alert to his situation. “If it gets me home any faster, I’ll start the process of getting them right now. Give me a sheet of paper and a pen and I’ll give you a shopping list. I’ll leave it up to you on how you’ll transport it all to this location.”
“Excellent.”
Stuart recalled an article he had read quite some time ago about the Illuminati. He wished he had paid closer attention, but he recalled a reference to A New World Order. He acknowledged that although he was afraid for his well-being, he was curious about this mission’s outcome. And that a part of him was excited to participate in an effort that was obviously something extraordinary. It was the one thing mankind had been searching for since the beginning of time, which was also the one thing that could finally bind us together as a species. He had the distinct feeling that there was someone else running this show, someone of a higher power. With that thought a chill went up his spine as images of his demise went unchecked in the depths of his consciousness. Nevertheless, he would comply with their demands as he thought full cooperation would best suit everyone’s needs, including his own and cooperation, he felt, would be his ticket home.
Stuart sat armed with standard notebook paper and pen while he and Hans discussed the engineering and construction of the tubes. “These tubes are usually on hand either in Wisconsin or at Lifecor. At Lifecor we always have a handful in stock ready to go. We keep them in a separate storage area secured by a door accessed with a key code.” Stuart drew a map of the Lifecor building the tubes occupied. As he drew, he said, “This is where they are, and you should use this alleyway to enter the buildings from the rear. The code is 2063. You shouldn’t encounter anyone if you go in at night. You’ll need a large, flatbed truck; these things are large and very heavy, and there is a forklift inside that can be used to load them. They come to us crated for protection. You’re just going to have to figure out how to get them here.”
Hans leaned back in his chair to consider the best way of accomplishing the task. “Yes, I believe this can be done quickly.”
Edgar had summoned the two guards to return Dimitri’s limp body to his room to sleep it off. Edgar had always known Dimitri would be trouble, but perhaps with Dr. Hyden’s expertise a way to alter his behavior during the procedure could be found.
Henry was lying in his room struggling to stay alive. Brenda was seated next to him holding her friend’s hand. It would only be a few moments before the cocktail of meds were pumping through his body. “Hold on Henry, my poor boy, I’m here for you.” Henry blinked back tears of regret and he struggled to focus on her face. Her lovely face, lined with years of personal tragedy, her beautiful, piercing blue eyes conveying her longing for a better life. Henry struggled to speak but managed only a small smile as he felt the warmth of the drugs diminishing his ability to even manage a thought.
Brenda stayed with him a while mired in contemplation of the future. Her thoughts were scattered thinking of the realities about to unfold. Her new body was being printed, perfect in every way. A heart would beat, pumping blood through newly constructed veins, lungs would expand and contract, capable of breathing air, a brain would develop to which her soul would be uploaded. Her thoughts, her memories, the essence of what made her unique; all uploaded as one would upload applications into a device, new, out of the box.
All constructed from a synthetic DNA. A replica of them: alien, but human. We are them as much as they are us.
Brenda kissed her friend’s cheek and slowly stood and straightened her lab coat. “It’s time to do this.” She moved with purpose. Down the hall without hesitation into the lab. She checked Henry’s SELF—it was complete. She made certain that all preparations were complete then called Hans to have Henry moved to the lab. As she waited, she stood in front of the glass container peering at the fully functional body of the new Henry Tinman. It was suspended in an electromagnetic absorption fluid: in essence, amniotic fluid. His new heart pumping blood, marrow producing blood cells; everything functioning protected by the fluid as if he were sitting in the womb waiting to be born.
There were strands of fine clear flexible fibers protruding from every inch of the otherwise bald head. They waved around the new Henry’s head like hair moving in a current. Fluid flowing between the strands made for an elegant dance caused by the electrodes firing pulses, and twitching muscles. The ends of the filaments all came together and plugged into a portal jutting out from one end of the container. From there a connection was made to a large screen with a control board. The only connection remaining to be made was the one that would soon be linked to Henry’s dying brain. His soul would soon become a permanent part of this new person who had been created in his likeness but with the core DNA of our alien cousins; the frequency of a higher dimension.
Hans and Stuart entered the lab as a technician was wheeling Henry in on a gurney. Stuart was stunned by what he saw. He knew only too well that if this technology ever became public, it would change the face of the planet. Death would become obsolete; illne
sses gone, abnormalities extinct, replaced by perfection and everlasting life. They were playing God.
Stuart was not a religious man, but he knew there had to be consequences for this blatant disregard for the Divine. He said to himself, not realizing his words were audible, “How is this possible? You can’t be this arrogant.”
Hans responded matter-of-factly, “If God created the heavens and the Earth, he also created these beings who, in turn, created us. So why is it so wrong for us to create from them . . . from us? We can expand our minds with the coding buried in our DNA, put there by them, for us to finally discover answers to the mystery. All that we have achieved has been written within all of us . . . well most of us. It’s more than fate, it’s our destiny. They have given us the tools and the map, so we might join with them. You see Stuart; we are just following their instructions.”
Stuart replied, “I was told once you can’t believe in Heaven and not believe in Hell—the two go hand and hand.”
“Stuart, being a man of science, you must embrace what we are doing here. Spirituality is real, the other side is real, and our attempt to reach it is real. Religion is man-made. Made by people hungry for power as a means of control.”
Stuart listened carefully and grasped what was being said. “I get it, and I really do appreciate what you are doing here. It is incredible. Sometimes though, playing God has certain consequences—like building a ship and claiming it’s unsinkable.”
Hans roared with laughter. “Maybe we should christen the transport ship Titanic.” Stuart didn’t see the humor.
As Hans and Stuart debated the ethics of what they were doing, Brenda was busy making the critical connections from the console to Henry’s brain. With help from the technicians, Brenda shifted Henry from the gurney to the flat table of the transference machine, and the push of a button slowly slid Henry inside headfirst. Brenda was busy making necessary adjustments. The inside workings of the machine spun furiously around Henry’s head, making pinpoint connections, picking up every electrical signal coming from the millions of synapses in the brain. It probed deeply, uncovering every thought, every feeling, every emotion, recovering every moment Henry had ever had through his life, uploading every experience that had shaped him into the individual he had become. All his joy and happiness, pain and disappointment, every achievement and failure. Memories of every moment of his life were rapidly extracted, leaving behind only emptiness; erasing everything. His brain still functioned, commanding his heart to beat, his lungs to breathe, but Henry was gone.
Brenda checked and rechecked the upload; it was complete. The machine still whizzed around Henry’s bald and battered head, seeking any small shred of information left for loading. She stood slowly and moved over to him. There was only one thing left to do. She initiated the intravenous cocktail that would painlessly stop his heart. She whispered in his ear, “No more pain, my friend. I will see you on the other side.” With the procedure complete the connection was broken. His brain function ceased, and his heart stopped.
Brenda regarded Stuart and Hans. “I can sustain his SELF in our reality only so long in the electromagnetic solution, so I suggest you get to work.”
Stuart was amazed at what he had just witnessed; a man he had never met lay dead on a table, his essence or his soul transferred from his broken body to a new one created from a synthetic structure that presumably came from ancient alien/human DNA. Stuart put his hands on his head and then slid them down to scrub the stubble on his chin as he digested what was being asked of him and why. He looked intently back at Brenda and said, “Okay you got it.” He handed the paper with the map and key code to Hans, who glanced at it and passed it to Edgar with the shopping list of medical supplies required for freezing four human hybrids.
Edgar said to Stuart, “Come with me,” anxious to get the ball rolling. Stuart followed close on his heels as they left through the double steel doors.
Edgar led them down the hall and through the doors leading to the adjacent offices. He turned and looked into Stuart’s eyes as if sizing him up for the first time since they had abducted him in Arizona. “We understand you are here against your will, but I assure you we do not wish to harm you. I have been given authorization to allow you to communicate with your family. It must be kept brief and absent of any details about your assignment here. The connection will be very hard to trace, but even so, I will only allow a few seconds during which you may convey your safety and pending return. No more, understood?”
Stuart was grateful, “Absolutely!”
“Follow me.” They turned down a narrow hall and stopped at a door with a retinal scanner. Edgar held his face where the scanner’s red ray could identify him, and the door unlatched. They stepped into a large room that obviously had been rigged for the sole purpose of scrambling communications. Stuart was directed to sit in front of a huge screen that covered the entire wall, with consoles that took up the remaining space. This was an advanced monitoring and rerouting system. Edgar went to a console and entered his passcode. The screen came to life with an image of a global map. “Punch the telephone number of your residence on the keypad in front of you.” Stuart’s hands were shaking while he struggled to remember his own phone number. When he entered the last digit, the screen pinpointed its location in the western portion of the United States, further zoomed to the state of Arizona, then zoomed again to the Phoenix metropolitan outlying area. Slowly, in small increments the view resolved to a residential area and finally to a single home.
Stuart was suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness and wanted to leap through the screen to be with his wife and child but needed to gather his thoughts quickly. He could hear the ringing on the other end of the line.
“Hello,” the voice sounded anxious and frail, but he knew it was his wife’s even though it felt like a lifetime since he had heard her speak. “Tracey honey, listen carefully, I don’t have much time.”
Tracey started to cry uncontrollably, “Oh my God, Stuart, is it really you?”
“Yes, I’m fine honey. I don’t know where I am, but I’m being treated very well. I don’t want you to worry about me. When I am no longer needed here, I’ve been assured of my safe return.”
“Stuart, they know who took you. Why have they taken you?”
“Look Tracey, I can’t discuss anything. Just know I’m okay and I will come home.”
Tracey very nearly screamed into the phone, “When? Why did they take you?”
Stuart had to think fast—how could he pass off a clue to her? But he had no idea where he was, only why. “Remember that time we hiked up to South Mountain, where I told you I love you? I love you, just remember that evening my darling.”
“Stuart, I love you baby. Please come home soon. I . . .” The line went dead. Tracey sobbed, yelling into the receiver, “Stuart? Stuart! Oh my God, where are you . . . where are you?” She fell against the kitchen counter and cried. Finally, she wiped her eyes and her mind began to clear. Tracey recalled the evening Stuart referred to during the call. There had been odd lights floating over the city and never a satisfactory explanation for what they had seen that night.
Edgar said, “I hope that will suffice for the time being.” Stuart was trying to hold back his emotions, his anger for being brought to this place, being forced to comply. He believed that what they were doing was important, although it walked a fine line between what he believed to be space exploration and insanity.
All he could muster was, “Thank you. At least they know I’m alive.”
Edgar showed no emotion and said, “Follow me, we have much to do.” They walked down the hall and exited the same door through which they had originally brought him into the complex, which seemed to be an eternity ago. They entered the elevator and went up several levels. The doors opened onto what looked to be a large warehouse that had been dug out of the side of the mountain, a huge cavern or cave. Row upon row of shelving units were stacked high to the rock ceiling.
Stuart followed
Edgar through a maze of supplies ranging from food and household products to tools and machinery. Towards the back they stopped in an area separated from the rest of the cavern by a sliding glass door. A medical supplies area, the space was easily large enough to hold provisions for several hospitals. Edgar looked at Stuart as he gestured about him, “I think you should be able to find what you need in here.”
Stuart looked around to get his bearings and could easily see that everything he needed was indeed there. “I’m going to need a cart or something to move everything down to where we need it.”
Edgar nodded and said, “I trust you won’t try to escape . . . you would not make it very far.”
Stuart nodded in agreement. “No, I don’t suppose I would.”
Edgar returned with a flat crate cart which he parked to the side of the door. After about an hour of looking and sorting through drugs and equipment, Stuart had everything he needed to initiate the freezing process, with the final freezing to be completed inside the canisters.
Hans was sitting in his office speaking with Dr. Lucca Venturini who appeared on the video screen before him. “We have much to do still.”
Hans responded, “We have the information we were looking for, and a team is already on the way to Arizona. Dimitri’s latest discovery has come late, but we are able to rectify the problem now.” Hans continued, “He is not going to go willingly on this mission.”
Lucca had grown weary of Dimitri’s behavior over the years. “Brilliant as he is, he has always lacked self-control.”
Hans added, “He was just a young man when John invested in his team’s research. Unfortunately, the Russian government had taken control over his work, but always remained conveniently open to our requests.”
“Yes, lucky he found the link and lucky I’m a patient man.”
“We both knew this project was going to have many challenges. The gravest of challenges has yet to fully unfold. Your nephew had the most unfortunate task, but we know it’s necessary; she will be safely tucked away shortly.”
