by S V Hurn
Alex felt his heart fill with a rage that he could barely contain. He asked through gritted teeth, already knowing the answer, “Was Dorathy murdered?”
Simon, with his years, had an inner strength that shone through his eyes. “Oh yes she was indeed killed, for she has the power to change everything.” Simon gave an evil, condescending laugh. “As you already know, the man responsible for John’s death still is quite a threat to this project and all the individuals involved with its success. The truth finally comes to the surface,” he said as he gazed down at Athena. His crazy gaze locked on to her. “My dear . . . and the truth shall set me free. So many have tried to apprehend me, but I continue to elude. You see, my altered DNA is nearly impossible to trace, forensic analysis always comes up empty-handed. As for Simon, he has been living in purgatory within my mind. And the members of your pitiful illustrious group shall soon come to their demise!” Simon pulled out a weapon that had been hidden by his coat.
The hair rose on the back of Hugo’s neck and with lightning-fast reflexes, he un-holstered his own gun. Simon was expecting his attack and fired first, grazing Hugo’s head, causing his cap to fly off his head. Hugo shoved Athena, knocking her to the ground. Simon had taken aim at her, but she spun on her side and drew her weapon, managing a clear shot to Simon’s shoulder. Alex and Stuart were slow to react but managed to shoot off a few rounds in Simon’s direction as he ran for cover.
Alex rushed to Athena’s side, dragging her behind a forklift where Hugo, Hans, and Stuart had taken cover. Stunned at what had just happened, Alex shouted at Hans, “You set us up!”
“I did not, but I’m sure I can tell you who did!”
Stuart grabbed Hans’s elbow. “Is there another way out of here? We can’t let him escape!”
Hans pointed in the direction Simon had fled. “Beyond that door there’s a cargo lift to the surface, and he will no doubt try to make his escape there.”
Hugo activated the small communicator in his ear. Athena gave him a knowing glance. “Hendrik can cut him off top side!” Hugo was on it, but Hendrik, as usual, was one step ahead of them.
Simon was hunkered down, the bleeding from his wound already slowing as his body rapidly repaired itself. Simon was muttering unintelligibly, stammering as if he were possessed by another soul that was trying to come to the forefront of his consciousness.
Desperately gathering his thoughts, he decided to make a run for the doors to the cargo elevator. He stood and fired in their direction, a fast-steady flow of hot ionized bullets flying in every direction, sending them for cover. He shouted tauntingly over the pop! pop! pop! of his semi-automatic, “I have something you want, something you need.” He wedged himself against the door jam, just out of range for a clear shot. “You have nothing without it,” he called as his inner voice reminded him, he had nothing without Dorathy. Simon rapidly punched at the buttons trying to speed the slow descent of the lift.
From above Hendrik was hastily making his way to the opposite side of the huge hanger and heard the grinding sound of the doors sliding open. He hid behind an aircraft wheel, ready to make his move. His senses on high alert, he felt a shift in the air, the sudden wave of purpose coming from behind. He turned to defend himself from attack, but he was a split second too slow. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the door sliding open to reveal the icy stare of his would-be opponent.
An old woman, reddish hair liberally streaked with gray, eyes as blue as the sea, was standing above Hendrik’s limp body motioning for Simon to hurry. “I told you the girl was useless to us.” She pulled the amulet from beneath her coat collar. It remained the same lifeless black, with not a hint of light emanating from it.
Simon clutched at the crystal that hung from her neck, smearing his bloodied hand over its surface. “I failed!” He fell to his knees. “Oh God in heaven, I failed you!”
The woman lifted him up off the cold concrete. “Come with me now, there will be another chance. With great patience there will be a time to undo what has been done.”
The elevator conveying Hugo’s group made a slow ascent to the surface where the sound of small jet engines could be heard in the gray clouded sky. They rushed over to where Hendrik was slumped, blood flowing down the side of his face. Athena patted Hendrik’s shoulder as he groaned from pain so bad it blurred his vision. Hugo helped him to his feet. “What the hell happened and who blindsided y’all?”
Hendrik leaned against the aircraft. “I don’t know, I just remember the scent of perfume.” He stood and winced in pain. The wind had picked up, blowing a drift of snow, dusting their clothing.
Hans said, “We need to go below and see to your head. There’s much for us to discuss.” Hans, although shaken by the events that had unfolded, felt compelled to share his knowledge of what had happened to Simon so many years ago. As he bandaged Hendrik’s head wound, he thought of the time that he and John had discussed their suspicion that somehow Simon had been compromised.
“John was skeptical at first; he refused to accept that the man who had been like a brother to him would ever be capable of such a horrific act of deception. You see, John had secretly funded a project of soul transference from a living breathing human into a bioprinted copy. He knew there would be moral and religious ramifications if the technology were ever to be released for public knowledge. There was a bit of quandary over how to navigate through the logistics of such a project, so John had pulled the plug on the whole damn thing. But it was too late. An individual with whom he had worked on the project decided to go it alone but had infiltrated the Rosen Foundation and our brotherhood and a way to embezzle the funds needed and in doing so learned of our intentions.”
Hugo was scratching at his two-day growth. “You mean to tell me he body-snatched Bedford and was privy to all material that would have been otherwise deemed classified?”
Athena added, “My grandfather knew there was something going on because I heard my mother mention his journal and something about the Antarctic and monks they had gone to see once before I was born. Mom rarely talked about her dad—I guess I never asked much because she seemed so disturbed by his murder.”
Alex was tired and still shaking in his shoes, never having been shot at before. He demanded, “Someone please tell me more about what is going on!”
Hans tried to explain. “This technology has become old hat and has been successfully used unannounced to the public for several years now. The first manned Mars mission utilized bioprinting astronauts to the specifications required to endure the effects of space travel and adapt to hazards presented by long periods of time in an unprotected environment.”
Alex spat out, “The public believes that the colonization of Mars is being accomplished by ‘human’ astronauts, not by some kind of hybrid!”
Hugo added what he knew of the Mars mission, “And what of those poor bastards? They’re stuck up there now, unable to adapt if they were to return.”
Hans chuckled, amused at Hugo’s passionate response, “My dear friend, science has pushed mankind to evolve; what we are doing here is part of the evolution of mankind. The group of scientists on Mars knew the risk and chose to go regardless of the outcome. Those brave souls have paved the road for further missions into space, including this one. So, don’t be too hard on us.”
Hans continued as he proudly gestured to the spacecraft, “This is our future: mankind’s future. All we have accomplished through the centuries brings us to this point in time where man can leave the confines of our universe to reach past our own reality.”
The group fell silent, with only the sound of the ship’s exterior throbbing like the beating of a beast’s heart and steam blowing in gasps, reminiscent of a racehorse ready to leap out of its gate.
Hans sensed that his guests were in awe of what had been accomplished and felt no need for further concealment. “Come. Let me give the tour of man’s greatest achievement.” With a nod, Hans took control of the panel and in an instant a hatch appeared where there h
ad been no defining markings or creases to show that a door had ever been placed there. It was at the lowest part of the ship; it seemed to be only a wingtip suspended merely a foot above the cold concrete floor. Hans directed the group with only a flicker of his eyes. He stood at the entryway to allow his guests to enter first.
Athena put her hand to rest on the outer skin of the craft and was shocked at the sensation of it responding to her touch, but she didn’t falter as she stroked her hand gently over the surface as if she were petting a large gentle beast. She whispered to herself, but also to the creature that had been positioned in this grand scientific achievement, “Remarkable. So . . . alive.”
“Yes, actually it is . . . alive that is.” Hans spoke softly as not to alarm his creation. “Bio-material, not from this world, but from deep space. From exactly where, we have no clue. Found under the Antarctic ice. We acquired it, studied it, and found it could, indeed, multiply if encouraged to do so.”
Alex shook his head to clear his thoughts. “How do you encourage a bio-material to . . .” He stopped short. “Do . . . actually . . . do anything?”
Hans responded with a smile, “We asked it to.”
Hugo, with his typical out loud pondering, exclaimed, “I’ll be goddamned! You mean to tell me this ship is made from some type of intelligent bio-space-stuff you guys picked up from under the ice, then grew it and stuck it to this ship?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying. And, for the record, it is far more superior than bio- space stuff, as you so eloquently put it. It’s a sentient being, capable of far more than I think we will ever be able to ascertain. So please show it some courtesy and respect.”
Hugo took a deep breath—things never ceased to amaze him, and he said softly in a non-threatening voice, “A ship grown in a lab . . . I’ll be damned.” But only with his first stroke across the hull did he realize the full scope of this creature’s existence.
Everyone stroked the ship lovingly as they entered, fearing if they didn’t relay a modicum of respect or managed to upset it somehow, it might lash out at them in some wild display of anger for being used in such a manner. One by one, they entered, touching and caressing as they went. The interior had all the comforts of a home away from home with advanced secret technology that no one, including Hugo, could imagine.
Stuart immediately saw his handiwork lined up in a row. The crew of this mission lay in stasis, ready to be awakened after a long journey into the unknown. “The people you coerced for this mission are giving up quite a lot and they wanted to be recognized for their sacrifice.”
Hans smiled. “They will, in time they will. That time is not now. We are ready to launch and by the time you find anyone to listen to you about this mission, we will all be gone. This ship and her crew will be gone, and all evidence that anything ever happened here will be gone, I assure you.”
Athena spoke softly, calmed by her new friend’s presence, “What you are doing here could unite us as a species. Why keep it secret?”
“Oh Athena, my dear. When faced with things we don’t understand our species reacts in fear and fear propagates aggression. Simply put, humans are not ready to accept what this crew will no doubt find. By the time we find the truth of our existence, maybe then we will have evolved enough to embrace it and not fear it. To pursue it, not to destroy it.”
The group followed Hans to the control room where there was a fully functional cockpit, but none had ever seen the likes of this on any air, or space, craft. Hugo, ever bold, queried, “How the hell do you fly this thing?”
Hans said, “You don’t. You see, any navigation is done with mind control.”
Hugo asked, “So what . . . the pilot tells the ship where to go, and how to land?
“No, my friend, the other way around.”
“Oooo-kay,” Hugo sounded annoyed. “Now you mean to tell me that the ship tells the pilot how to fly and the pilot does what?”
“The pilot merely tells the ship where he wants to go, or the direction he wants to go— the ship adjusts for airspeed, turbulence, or any other unforeseen problem that may arise. The pilot, having already charted a course, communicates his intent to the ship and the ship carries out his request with the best approach possible.”
“Well shit, that’s a hell of a navigation system!”
Athena half listened as she sat in the belly of this ancient alien being. She felt a closeness, almost a bond being formed with this unlikely soul. She whispered to it, “Please find my mother and bring her home,” as she slowly stroked the inner surface of the ship.
The gentle beast read her thoughts and emotions. It responded to her, every intelligent atomic particle stored her request and it was now bonded to her DNA with the touch of her hand. It took a small part of her to take on its long journey into the unknown.
A few hours later Athena, Alex, Hendrik, Stuart, Hugo and key members of the staff that had not already departed from the underground facility stood in awe as the ship hovered silently when the mechanical anchoring mechanism released its grasp.
A technician keyed a few commands into the remote guidance system and the ship rose slowly through the opening that had once been covered with camouflage netting. The craft was gone in an instant, rockets propelling it to the upper atmosphere. Moments later only a flash of gold could be seen in the now dark sky and a thunderous boom echoed through the snow-covered Alps. It was gone, going faster than anything man had ever built, bending the space around itself. It was a ship of dreams . . . but, after all, it wasn’t really a ship.
CHAPTER 27
After a long journey home Alex was sitting in Hugo’s office at JPL. He desperately wanted answers to what had happened to his wife. Exhausted and feeling helpless, he demanded, “Now what Hugo? What do we do with this information?”
“Damn, Amigo, I don’t even know who to call about this convoluted bullshit! And when I do figure out who to discuss this with, they’re gonna think I lost my damned mind!”
Karen Johnson had come in after hours to check on her next project and noticed a light on down the hall. She stepped closer to investigate and heard Hugo’s voice bellowing over the dim humming of monitors in adjoining offices.
“John Rosen created this hybrid psychopath who’s now running loose and could be responsible for Dora’s death. They launched this ship with technology that was made possible by Dora’s donation.”
Alex was maddened by the thought. “What would be the point of having Dora dead? She donated most of her money and her expertise to get this new technology jump-started to mainstream. She was no threat! If anything, an asset!”
Karen pressed herself against the wall next to the slightly ajar door into Hugo’s office. Sweat collected on her brow. Her thoughts ran wild with the true nature of what she may have been a party to.
“So exactly my point. Alex shook his head in despair. “Why kill her?”
Karen’s head was throbbing; she had to speak up. She gathered her composure, knowing her involvement could cost her career. But she admired and respected Dorathy, and she had to come clean so they might get to the bottom of what had happened to her.
Karen wiped her brow with the back of her hand and straightened her coveralls. She pushed the door open. “I think I know what happened to Dorathy.”
The two men jumped out of their seats and a moment later Hugo said, annoyed, “Please, elaborate for us, since you’ve injected yourself into our conversation.”
Karen looked down at her feet, biting her lip, very uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. “I was contacted several months ago and asked to place a tracking device on the cryotube, long before Dorathy died.” Tears welled up in her bloodshot eyes. “Men from CERN offered me a huge amount of money, so I did it. It wasn’t ethical, but I really didn’t see the harm. The person inside was going to be already dead and we were putting our own device on it anyway . . . I just didn’t see the harm.”
Alex’s and Hugo’s thoughts were spinning. Alex spoke first. “Why
would they do that? The first patient was to be an elderly man, nobody of any importance to them. Besides, as you pointed out, there was already a JPL tracking device installed.”
Karen’s voice started to shake as it became clear to her. “The tracking device they wanted me to install worked on a higher, more complex frequency. It was designed to be used by someone already in that dimension, not by us on Earth.”
“So . . . so what?” Alex tried to maintain his composure.
Hugo leaned back in his chair rubbing his tired eyes and whistled, “Oh man, those rat bastards!”
Alex’s breathing became labored, his thoughts clouded, “What? Where are you going with this?”
Hugo sat forward. “Look, who would be the greatest asset to their mission? They get her out of the way, protected from this Simon character, AND get her expertise for the mechanism they installed on that damn ship. You heard the man, Alex. Dora helped design that thing. They get to where they’re goin’, come out of stasis and bingo! They have a bleep on a screen with instructions to pick her cryotube up. If ever there was a single person who could be their greatest asset and a key to their mission’s success, it’s Dorathy Rosen.”
Alex’s head was spinning as he attempted to digest the information. “But how would they know Dora’s wishes were to be placed into cryosleep and placed in that tube?”
“It’s not a stretch of the imagination to say that if Dora were to die suddenly, she would want to be the first to go. It was her pet project—both of your project; she would no doubt want to be a part of it.”
“Alex’s eyes grew wild. “Oh my God, that means they are going to fix her—revive her . . . she’s going to be alive!”
“Hold on there, buddy. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. You’re here, and she’s there and, may I remind you, way in the hell out there!”
Alex stood up, looking at Karen now. “If I go, can you duplicate their tracking device?”
Karen felt like she was being sucked into some kind of nightmare. “Yes, I believe I can.”
