“Yeah,” said Jack, “that’s one of the strangest things I’ve heard.”
The security woman tapped her fingers on the strange block of what she thought to be obsidian and placed it back into Jack’s bag.
“Well, the scanners didn’t pick up anything nefarious about it, so I don’t think your square rock here is much of a threat to anyone.”
“I wouldn’t say it is either,” he said, unsure.
Finally, Jack was able to move himself through the rest of the airport and onto the plane. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach the whole flight back. He could feel a connection with the material in his carry-on growing within him, manifesting as a tingling sensation in his hands that intensified the closer his body was to it.
Once the lengthy trip was over, Jack hurried to the baggage claim area to grab his other luggage and hoped no security would stop him to perform a random check while making his way out of the airport. With some luck, he made it to the front entrance and was able to quickly jump into the shuttle he ordered from his screen while briskly walking through the terminal. He was so mentally exhausted once he flung himself into the transport, he started to doze off as it travelled to his home.
“Pick an in-transit video to enjoy, courtesy of ShuttleShell Co.,” said the on-board A.I.
“No thank you, I want sleep.”
“There are several popular videos your friends are watching. Would you like me to play them for you?”
“Dammit, just stop talking to me and let me sleep!”
“I’m detecting levels of agitation. May I recommend some soothing sounds of nature or ambient music?”
“Yes, play ambient music,” said Jack. Hao was right, these automated shuttles really are the worst, he thought to himself before drifting to sleep.
In a short time, the cab sounded its arrival tone to wake him up, announcing, “We’ve come to your destination. Please ride with us again. Thank you for choosing ShuttleShell.”
Yawning, he grabbed all his luggage and hopped out of the cab. He was happy to finally be home. Perhaps he could start to make sense of what recently happened to him and gleam some wisdom from his mother or any other source he may be able to find.
As he walked through the front door, his mother gave him a hug, elated to see him.
“It’s so great to see you, son,” she said. “Let me help you with your bags.”
“Thanks, Mom. Actually, I’ll just carry my backpack upstairs and grab the other bags later.”
“That’s fine. I’m guessing you’re tired from the long flight home.”
“I definitely am. I’ll come back down after a short nap.”
Jack carried his heavy backpack upstairs and dropped it beside his bed as he collapsed into the sheets. Still incredibly curious, he fought rest a little while longer and retrieved the black material from his backpack. While lying in bed, he levitated the substance and formed it into different shapes above his body, seeing how far he could push his ability to manipulate it. He wanted to tell his mother everything that happened so far, but knew she would probably get upset hearing about what his dad said in the secret video. After all, his father did tell him not so say anything to her about it. Finally, after an hour or so, Jack put away the black material and slept.
Hours later, Jack’s mom knocked on the closed bedroom door.
“I just wanted to let you know I have dinner ready. Come downstairs for a little while and then you can catch up on more sleep tonight.”
“Sounds good,” said Jack, yawning.
He made his way to the kitchen and did his best to make small talk, trying to stay away from any topics that would lead him down the rabbit hole of telling his mom about the technology embedded in his skin or the odd black material in his backpack.
“So, has anything interesting happened since I was here last?”
“Well, don’t get too upset,” said Melissa, breathing deep and bracing her son for bad news, but your father’s body is . . . missing.”
“What!” said Jack.
“I’m very upset too. We were supposed to get his ashes the day after his funeral. All they told me is that an official from the AEB came to move his body so they could perform their own internal investigation. I’ve tried to contact them, but no one’s responded. So now I have no clue what to do.”
Melissa began to cry.
“It’ll be okay, Mom. I’m sure we’ll figure out what’s going on soon.”
Jack felt the situation was suspicious. He remembered the discouraging tone Nigel and his father took when describing the AEB. It seemed strange the bureau would want to steal away James’s body before it was able to be cremated.
“I hope we do figure things out soon,” said Melissa, “because I’m this close to going to a news agency about it.”
“Just wait a little longer, Mom. I’m sure the AEB wouldn’t want to deal with the angry side of you.”
“Damn right,” she said, adjusting her sitting position to seem more powerful.
After dinner, Jack stated that he was still tired from the long trip back. He went upstairs, the remainder of his bags in hand, to retire for the night. The thought of AEB agents stealing his father’s body from the funeral home couldn’t escape him. Now that he was back home, he also remained conscious of the potential for an agent to track him down for a meeting, as his father stated would happen. But there were no visitors waiting for him. As he was contemplating these thoughts, stomach-down on his bed, he kept one hand inside the neck hole of his shirt to feel the border of where the unwound sphere on his back plunged itself beneath his skin. He wondered what strange future events may lie in store for him.
Jack woke up by mid-morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked downstairs. It also sounded like his mother had a guest over. When he entered the kitchen, he was shocked to see an unrecognizable suited man sitting at the table. The AEB, he thought.
“Good morning, Jack,” said his mom. “I’ve been talking with your dad’s former supervisor here, Mr. White, who decided to drop by. And he says that he’ll personally look into where James’s body went, and that there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Jack with a lump in his throat.
“Yep. And he says he needs you to answer a few questions about your father, too. I’ve already told him everything I know, but he says the more information he has, the more likely he can get to the bottom of everything.”
Mr. White was a middle-aged man with an intimidating look about him, but a charming and loquacious voice when engaged in conversation.
“Well, you see, Mr. Drake, there’s just a few formalities we need to take whenever a tragic event like this happens—not that something like this has happened before,” said Mr. White. “In this case, the bureau would also like to take you to your father’s office to grab a few more things of his we’ve found and, to the best of your ability, have you answer some questions we have.”
“Oh, please go with him, Jack, if you don’t mind,” said Melissa. “It would be nice to bring the rest of his things home from his work office.”
Although Jack remembered being warned of this encounter on his father’s video, he was still very nervous about going with the agent.
“Okay, Mr. White,” said Jack. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go with you and answer a few questions. Please give me a minute or two to get ready.”
“Of course, Jack,” said Mr. White. “Please feel free to also have some breakfast before we disembark. I’ll just be making some necessary calls outside.”
Jack grabbed a quick bite to eat and went to his room to get ready. Before going back downstairs, he wanted to make sure he kept the black substance in his backpack close at hand. Thinking of how to smuggle it on his person, he began to morph it onto his body and form it into a kind of thin armor plating that covered his back and upper arms. He concealed it from sight by wearing a long-sleeve dress shirt. After summoning the nerve, he walked back downstairs to go with Mr. White.
“Thanks. I just wanted to look decent, going to a government agency and all.”
He kissed his mother goodbye, making sure to hold her arms so he could prevent her from hugging him and feeling the new and unusual rigidity of something attached to his back. After taking a deep breath, he walked out the front door.
“Glad to see you’re ready to head out,” said Mr. White, as Jack approached the AEB shuttle. He noticed it was the same kind Nigel used to chauffeur him on his graduation day. Mr. White told the shuttle to take them to the downtown AEB headquarters and they were on their way. As the journey began, Jack assumed the questioning had commenced when Mr. White started asking him about his father’s line of work.
“So Jack, did your dad ever tell you what kind of work he did for the AEB?”
“Not really. I only know he was hired as an ecologist by the bureau about a year or so ago.”
“But your father was away much more than a typical ecologist. Did you ever find that suspicious?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “He was excited to start the job. And I know my parents were able to pay their house off because of his new position.”
“Yes, your family has been fortunate. Not every kid is born into one like yours, with such a remarkable mom and dad.”
Jack wasn’t sure what Mr. White was trying to get at with his comment.
What do you mean by that? Of course I’m lucky to have a family like I do. My mom’s a professor and my dad was an ecologist. There are millions of people around the world with parents that have a similar education. They’re remarkable to me, yes, but what makes you think they’re remarkable?”
“I wasn’t talking about their education, Jack,” said Mr. White, “I was talking about their genetic lines, particularly that of your father’s. I have a feeling you inherited many of the same genes that made him so special. It would be a shame for you to not capitalize on them, as your father did with the bureau’s help.”
Jack was disturbed by both the comment and the thin smile Mr. White sported after saying it.
“You’re starting to make it sound like the AEB performed science experiments on my father. Something I, as well as news agencies, would be very unhappy to hear about if it were true.”
Mr. White threw his hands up, as if to pause the conversation.
“I promise you, we do not conduct careless science experiments—especially on employees. Certain divisions of the AEB look for the most remarkable specimens of people from around the world to help us with pressing global issues. Your father was instrumental in the division he was a part of. When he came on board, he helped bring along incredible insights that benefited our research and discoveries. We were, and still are, very, very sad about his passing.”
Jack saw that Mr. White was expressing genuine grief when talking about James.
“I’m sorry if I upset you, Mr. White. I really do look forward to learning more about what my father did for you and helping answer any questions you have for me.”
“Sounds good, Jack. We’re glad to have you on our side,” said Mr. White.
In short time, and after several checkpoints, they arrived at the front entrance of the AEB headquarters. A security officer greeted Jack and Mr. White as they stepped out of the car.
“Please follow me inside, Jack,” said Mr. White.
Jack walked through the front entrance of the Allied Earth Bureau office building with Mr. White leading in front and another agent close behind. All three men walked through a scanning device, which, to Jack’s relief, didn’t raise an alarm to what he had embedded on his body or attached to himself under his shirt. They then made their way to the nearest elevator, which was ridden in silence to the twelfth floor. Jack could feel a sense of panic begin to set in as they rose higher in the building. Once the doors opened, Mr. White stepped out of the elevator and into a room with stainless steel walls and granite floors.
“Your dad’s office is down here on the left. We’ll go ahead and conduct the questioning in there, if that’s all right.”
When they walked into James’s old office there were two other AEB agents awaiting their arrival. Mr. White introduced them by their last names, Clarkson and Welsh. After they sat Jack down in his father’s desk chair, their interrogative questioning immediately began. The agents took the three seats across from him.
“So, Mr. Drake, did you know your father worked as an archaeologist for us?” said Clarkson, having a slight Southern drawl to his accent.
“I thought he did ecology work for the bureau,” said Jack, knowing Nigel told him something about the archaeology work months earlier.
“That was what we told him to tell everyone, even his family,” said Welsh. “He actually helped us search for certain kinds of ancient artifacts.”
Jack thought Welsh looked young to be an agent—not much older than he was, if older at all. Though he tried to push the thought from his mind, he couldn’t help but find her attractive. He perceived Clarkson to be in his thirties, still one of the younger agents he’d seen. As Jack remained silent, Mr. White continued the conversation.
“Just a little over three months ago, your father received clearance to research one of these artifacts from our vaults. The issue is that since his untimely death, this particular relic has gone missing. Do you know anything about this, Jack? Where it may be?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Now, I’m going to need your cooperation. What your father misplaced or hid . . . it’s more valuable than you can imagine. And we have evidence that he accessed a database with your genetic information months before he died, which is one reason we strongly believe you know where the relic is.”
Jack remained silent for a moment. He wasn’t told by his father how to handle the current situation he found himself in, only guided to join the part of the AEB his father worked for. But Jack wondered why his genetic information was accessed and why that would make him suspect of knowing the sphere’s location.
“I want to cooperate, but I don’t know how trustworthy the three of you are, much less the AEB. My father died while working for you. And honestly, with his body missing, I’m not convinced that his death didn’t involve more than my mom or I know about right now.”
“Mr. Drake, we’re not the bad guys here and you’re not in trouble,” said Clarkson. “We’re only trying to find something your father was borrowing from us before he died. It’s very important we find it.”
“It’s true, Jack,” Mr. White interjected. “To be honest, we’re still trying to get down to the bottom of what happened. One moment your father’s with us, the next he’s gone.”
Jack continued to remain stationary, arms folded, not wavering from his stoic gaze.
“Show him the pictures,” said Welsh, looking at Mr. White.
From the inside of his breast pocket, Mr. White pulled out his screen and pulled up a collection of pictures. He gave the screen to Jack so he could swipe through the photos. The first one was a close-up of his father’s back, with the same technology embedded in his skin. He had one attached to him too, he thought. The remaining pictures were of the same kind, showing off James’s back and others of him working with the strange black substance.
“When were these pictures taken?” said Jack, mystified.
“I’d say about a year ago,” said Mr. White. “The thing you see on his body is something our division looks for—a relic from long ago. Only, they are in the shape of a sphere when we find them and a metallic navy blue in color. The first picture shows your father when he first had his relic attach to him. Once a relic integrates with someone, it starts to have a barely perceivable blue light moving through it. There are other people we’ve recruited like your dad, who also have relics attached to them, but we have to be careful about keeping their identities a secret. They’re the key to what could become an amazing future for all of civilization. However, it was th
e relic your father received clearance to do research on that we’re desperately looking for. In the wrong hands, it could do great damage.”
“What about the one attached to my dad in the pictures?” said Jack. “Where is that one?”
“We’re still actively looking for his exo. But that’s a different matter altogether,” said Clarkson.
“Exo?”
“That’s the nickname we gave ‘em. When they attach to the wearer, they look like some sort of exoskeleton across the back. In reality, we call them relics and exos interchangeably. The black glass-like material you see in those pictures is—”
“Clarkson, that’s enough,” said Mr. White. “He doesn’t need to know anything that can’t help us locate the missing relic.”
“That information may actually be helpful to me. If you share more about the black stuff in the picture, I promise to tell you everything I know about the missing relic,” said Jack.
Mr. White contemplated the offer for a moment.
“Well, Jack,” he began, “when someone is wearing an exo, they may be able to control a special substance we call morphacite. It looks like obsidian, although it’s actually a kind of metallic crystalline substance. What’s so unique is that it can be transformed and controlled by someone who’s skilled with an exo—someone like your father.”
“What made him so good with an exo?”
“Some people possess a natural talent,” said Welsh. “It’s a little hard to explain, but there’s something in their genetic code that allows them to access more of the power provided by the exo. Your father’s genome had sections that were very ancient, which allowed him to utilize a majority of the abilities provided by his exo.”
“Do any of you have an exo attached to you?” said Jack, looking at the agents surrounding him.
The Relics- The Keystone Trilogy - Part 1 Page 6
