Ever-Life the Two Book Set: The C.P.T Incident and Time Trust (40 page)

Swanson sat back down, rocked in his chair, and looked at the ceiling. He seemed to ramble on, “We know they derive essential components from our psyche, our emotions, our inner being; things that when enough is accumulated, they propagate-reproduce, so to speak; you know, the bright goo covering the cave walls. But, it’s only in those rare, one in a billion instances, from ‘a compatibility’, that they can pump offspring out like garden hoses squirt water on the fourth of July. And they can do it for months. Up until now, they have had to accumulate whatever it is slowly, in small amounts from humans, little by little. If one of us is ‘compatible’ with even just one of them, all of them share the experience. One compatibility session could generate hundreds of Carriers to breed, at the same time. For Ever-Life, ‘a compatibility’ could motivate them all to create new inhabitable caverns at a rate, well, faster than any effort in centuries.”

Swanson seemed obsessed, in the moment. Suddenly, he shook it off and looked at Burns. “I am way ahead of myself. There is a lot to think about here; first things first.”

“I like first things first.” Jake said.

“Let’s get back to the author of this book. If he had a headset session, we have a record.”

“Yes, probably.”

“I want you to check in our vaults, here first. We need that file. If nothing else, it will tell us the specifics of your actions in that timeline. We need to monitor and protect you, there, against a Brock invasion…What a bag of mucky puck.”

Swanson took their two Knofers and put them end to end, on his desk. Then, they both put headset ear-plugs on, and Swanson called an emergency meeting of all eight Post’s security staff leaders.

Chapter 9   

Fargo Gone

GGM Mathew Bellos joined his father, Dr. Richard Bellos, and Dr. Jack Sheldon managing trauma units, set up between the two bombed buildings, on the Brock/Swanson Campus. One exploded in the new Time Research Building-TR-26. The other bomb leveled the Fargo building, where Marion Brock had his primary residence, for years. Bellos and Jack had been in the process of transferring Ever-Life’s appropriate data, from ‘Time-Trust’ files, below Arden, to TR-26. The objective was to influence one of the Campus research teams, to discover ‘time travel’; thereby controlling any and all surface negotiations, through patents, copyrights and trademarks. It was a new approach, by the new GGM. Ever-Life would reap much greater benefits. Of course, that was before the current events took place.

Mathew broke away from the trauma units to call Swanson; and then, he returned.

“Dad, what is the status?”

“Most of the wounds were superficial, and treatable here.”

“Thank God.”

“Campus bulldozers should have most of it cleaned up in two days.”

“What a mess.”

“Arden police are over there. They have been interviewing our security team, hah; their own chaps. I haven’t talked to them yet. Detective Watzin did not come. Son, where is my granddaughter, Angie?”

“She is with Dr. Luanne, down under. She said she was going to meet Brian, in the morning, for the Marshall decision. She is safe for now. What’s the latest census?”

“All accounted for but two; Barb Sawyer and Ralph Walker.”

“Why would Barb or Ralph be anywhere, but floor two at Andrews?” 

Jack interrupted, “I gave the order. Matt they went on their break, to TR-26 to get a copy of my treatise. Guards are searching now; but, nothing yet.”

“Jesus.” Bellos turned to Richard. “And that’s everyone?”

“Yes, Son.”

Bellos then gave the detectives, on site, his full attention. He raised his voice to the few, digging in the rubble, “Hay fellas; who is in charge here?”

“I am here, Doctor.”

Bellos turned around to see a young, spry, energetic woman, in her late twenties, wearing a dark purple pantsuit and a grimace.

“And you are?”

“I am Abigail Johnson, Abby, if you like. Sir, your Mr. Burns directed me to report here.”

“Ah; well, Jake has good taste.”

She looked at the three doctors without fear, focusing on GGM-Bellos. They all heard a ticking, and Bellos said quickly, “I think that is you, my dear.”

Abby tapped the palm of her hand and then read the display across her fingers.

“Hmm, just what we need, a palm reader,” Jack said. “I guess she is not from the police station.”

Johnson began reading from her hand, and spoke to the GGM, in a determined voice, “Sir, the Fargo building is flat, completely demolished. It was a pro-job. There was minimal damage to surrounding areas; definitely strategic and professional.”

Bellos replied, “I want them, Johnson. This is the second time, in a year, that we have been hit. I want it stopped, permanently.”

“Well, that is why Burns sent me, Sir.”

She reached inside her pocket, recovered a small bundle and handed it to Bellos.

“We found that. It’s a remnant of an old type detonator. We also got two fingerprints, and fresh footprints, off stair planks, in the rubble. There were five of them. We captured one man, unconscious, outside Fargo. He was wounded from blast; concussion. His leg was broken in three places. The others fled up to Albuquerque. We ran a dust analysis, trailing the air-path of the blast. Long story short; we searched the Knofer gene pool from the prints on the door knobs, saliva spray on a glove, and stair railings. It all revealed identities. It took longer than we thought; but, we found one man at the city train depot, and three more at the airport. We know they were Brock’s men; Rash InVoy’s, specifically.”

Bellos smiled at her, “Impressive.”

“And there is something else. I got word; three Knofers are missing.”

“I knew about one. Didn’t their defense protocols initiate?”

“Nothing traceable kicked in, from the colonies defense protocols. The feedback so far is not specific; one tracks Arden to China and back; one Moscow to Seattle; and, one from Fargo to South America; Rio.”

“Organized confusion; sounds like a Brock scenario; a befuddle move. But, how did they get them?” Bellos looked angry. “Something just isn’t right; Fargo to Rio? Stream me any exact locations, when you can. Send teams as soon as you know.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good job, Johnson.”

Bellos turned and started walking away. He noticed Jack, digging with the others, in the rubble of the building 26.

“What are you doing, Jack? You are going to cut your hands. You know better than that. Let the detectives work.”

“I see something in here. Look at this.” Jack lifted the strange, transparent, fabric. “What is this? It’s sparkling, but looks like snakeskin?”

Bellos took the 8x10 inch piece, examining and caressing it. “I need to make a call.”

As he put it in his pocket, he felt it vibrate; and, instinctively, he pulled it out again, and held it up, next to his Knofer.

“Unbelievable…”

It quickly disintegrated, out of his hand.

I think Mr. Brock and his team, are alive and well…And I think, something else…Damn; no reading on the Knofer.

Jack watched and was noticeably disturbed.

“I’ve only seen glowing like that, once before. It’s a piece of one of those things-your beasts, isn’t it? It has something to do with that bullshit at the ceremony, and what I am working on, your Sidron; doesn’t it?”

Suddenly, they heard shouting.

“Sir; Ms. Johnson; over here; over here; I’ve got something!”

One of the detectives waived his arms to Abby, and they all walked quickly over to him.

“Look, an arm,” the detective said.

Bellos, Jack and Dr. Richard helped, as they all dug in the rubble.

“My God,” said Jack. “It’s Barb; Barb Sawyer.”

They brushed her face off; and Jack began C.P.R. Within a minute she coughed and opened her eyes.

“What happened?”

Jack smiled, as he held her head.

“Barb, you’ll be fine; stay still. It’s me, Dr. Sheldon. Just, don’t move.”

She coughed again, and said, “Dr. Sheldon, what about Ralph; Ralph Walker. We got your notes; but, just as we left the building, boom…”

“My notes…”

As the rest of the team reached the two of them, another detective yelled, “I’ve got another one over here; over here!”

Jack was quick to instruct, “Get her into emergency; check her out, stat!”

Then, he ran to the other site. Everyone was digging frantically. Jack watched, as Bellos and a detective pulled a lifeless body out from the rubble.  The GGM brushed the dust and pieces of wreckage off his face. There was a deep gash through the neck, and his inner organs were missing. 

“Ralph Walker,” Jack said.

“Look at his hand,” a detective said. “He is holding something.”

Jack went over and pried his hand open.

“My notes; my treatise; some is missing.”

Johnson notified the rest of the team to stop looking, while Jack checked the body.

“Matt, he has been dead a while; maybe, even before the bombings.”

Bellos knelt down, as the ER team arrived with diagnostics. He took a blood smear and put it on his Knofer.

“Run genetic analysis.”

The two doctors stood up and faced Johnson.

“Abby, he did not die from the bombing.”

“What?” she said.

“They obviously didn’t want Jack’s notes either; or they would have taken them. Ralph died from knife wounds. They gutted him and slit his throat, while he gripped those pages.”

Just then, one of the ER men whispered into Jack’s ear, “Doctor, I found this in his inside coat pocket.”

Jack took the crumpled ball of paper and opened it. As Abby reacted to what Bellos said, Jack talked to himself, “It’s the last page of my treatise....”

“What are you saying, Sir?”Abby replied perplexed.

“…I think the bombs may be a cover, just to get our minds off the ball.”

“That’s a little farfetched; don’t you think?” She looked around. “What diabolic bastard would kill like this?”

Bellos replied,
“
Marion Brock.”

“Meanwhile, Jack thumbed through the other treatise papers and saw scribbled writing on a back page:

It’s incomplete, Jack!

CR

He got a very sick feeling in his stomach.

“Jesus, Matt; can’t you take Ralph to wherever you do it and duplicate him, clone him, let’s give him C.P.T. for Christ’s sake.”

“I just checked. He doesn’t have the genetic makeup. It wouldn’t take.”

Jack shook his head, “God what was the point?”

One of the ER team spoke to Bellos, “Sir, should we take him to the morgue?”

“Yes,” Bellos said, “to the morgue.”

For a moment, as Bellos mourned the lad, he stood, quietly, watching Jack reading his notes, a few yards away. Jack turned to the GGM in a panic.

“Matt! Look here!”

“What is it?”

“Look at this. Christ! And what about Rachel?”

“What about her?”

She went to D.C. for me; to meet that money backer, Charlie Rosse, look;
CR
…Rosse? Charlie Rosse?”

Bellos spoke into his Knofer, “Charlie Rosse…Give me all data”

“You can do that, with those?”

Bellos shook his head in disgust.

“Jack, I gave you Knofers, for a reason…It says he is a Mogul. That’s all we need; another farking Brock. He and his 14 ghost foundations support a variety of businesses. Most recently, the partnering contract negotiations for repairing the Bering Straits…Jake just attended the convention there. He said Brock money was all over the place.”

“You think Brock and Rosse are connected?”

“Yes, Brock is muddying the water to hide his involvement with Rosse. They all want the contract for fixing the Bering Straits? That would be very bad for us…

…Johnson, Johnson; get me all the information you can on the last six months of transactions made by any Rosse or Brock company. Meet me at my office with it.”

“When?”

“Now!...Jack, Dad, walk with me.”

“Matt, you don’t really think this is all Brock’s doing too, do you. He is dead. I remember.”

“If my memory serves me; he set off on a year-long tirade, because of C.P.T., in the first place. Jack, you chose him, right?”

“Come on, Matt, you never understood Marion Brock, or what he did for me and C.P.T.”

“Your thinking was clouded then; and, obviously, it still is, by your obsession to prove your theories. The facts tell us; he is alive and up to no good.”

“You think he is still after C.P.T.?”

“There is more to it now. He wouldn’t have ruined his own home, here, or attacked TR-26, without having a much more elaborate agenda. He is daring us, to try and stop him. And, he doesn’t give a damn who he murders”

“So it’s about what; why is he doing this?”

Bellos stopped and looked Jack in the eye.

“It’s about C.P.T., your new treatise and time travel. It’s about control, Jack; control. He is out of control. He’s obsessed. By the way; where is your son, Brian?”

Bellos turned away and began walking through the rubble, to the car again.

“Brian is at the law library, I think; then, home, until the Dave Marshall decision.”

“Oh my; Dave Marshall,” Dr. Richard said. “Has it been that long? Time passes so quickly and we forget so much; so many important things. That’s why I have always supported that ‘time travel’ should be available to the public.” 

“Yes Dad, I know your views on this. Listen you two. I am sure Brock is trying to throw off my departure with the three clergy. I cannot miss that, because of the ‘Time-Trust’ parameters and Carrier treaty commitments. Dad, please stay on campus. Manage ER efforts for me; and work with the Arden Police. Jack, come with me.”

The two got into Bellos’s limo, for the brief ride back to Andrews.

“Take us to entrance five, will you, Mike?”

“Yes, Sir; by the way, something I think is important, given the immediate circumstances.”

“Yes?”

“About Mrs. Sheldon, this afternoon; I thought it strange she left from the Fargo airfield.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Jack called me. He asked me to drive her to the campus airstrip. She said, I should take her to Fargo. I thought nothing of it and cancelled the other plane reservation. Now, given the bombs; well, I just thought I would mention it. That’s all.”

Jack exploded, “Christ! You idiot,! Why didn’t you say something; call me; send up a red flag, shit!”

Bellos pushed a button, raising the window behind the driver’s front seat.

“Calm down, Jack. Take it one step at a time.”

Within ten minutes, they were in Bellos’s office, on the tenth floor of Andrews. Bellos made a Knofer call to Ever-Life Post 5, station 120, Peru, South America.

“I need surveillance, throughout the continent and Post, to trace Knofer numbers 1961 and1969.”

“Yes Sir; it may take a little time. We have to follow Carrier treaty protocols…”

“Do whatever you have to. We need to find those Knofers now!”

The GGM cut the call.

“Frankly, I’ll be glad when the C.P.T. replacements take the hologram’s places. At least we will be dealing with emotional beings…

…Abby; first, I want you to start surveillance on both Brian Sheldon, and Angie, until Jake or I release the security protocols. Take Dr. Sheldon, here, to Washington D.C. Use the plane on the main Campus runway. I know it’s all fueled. Try to trace the one Rachel Sheldon took, work with the F.A.A….”

“I did Sir. There’s no record of a flight plan.”

Bellos tapped his Knofer, “Get me Mike Warren.”

In a matter of seconds, Bellos’s Knofer clicked again.

“Yes, Sir; Mike here.”

“Mike, did you see the plane Rachel Sheldon took?”

“It was a Hushjet-36. The only noticeable marking was a yellow seagull’s silhouette, on the tail.”

  Bellos looked at Abby.

“Got it,” she said.

“Thanks, Mike. Call me if you remember anything else.”

“One more thing, Sir; I found a small bug-recording device, in the limo. I just gave it to security, level 6.”

“Abby?”

“I’m on it.”

“Thanks Mike…Abby, get going with Jack here. Call me en route, with updates. Your priority is to see that these two are safely returned, back to Andrews.”

“Got it.”

“You meet Mr. Charles Ross, and investigate any possible involvement, with Rash InVoy or Brock. Alert your team, out there. Be lawful, please?”

Jack was getting more nervous, the more he listened.

“Matt, I haven’t heard from Rachel, at all-no texts, no messages, nothing…And she doesn’t answer.”

“Where are your Knofers, Jack?”

“Jesus Matt, we don’t carry that shit.”

Abby replied, “Great; another dinosaur. I’ll bet you a dime, they’re the missing ones.”

“Give Dr. Sheldon another one, right now!”

“Stick it in your pants or up your ass, Jack; but keep it on you. You understand? Where the hell are the two we gave you?”

“Home, I think; I don’t know.”

Johnson whispered under her breath, “How can someone so brilliant be so stupid.”

Jack was quick to challenge, “I heard that. I just don’t see them as a priority in my life, young lady.”

“What about now?”

“Don’t lose it, Jack. Learn it. Now get going. I have to meet with our guests, the three fathers.”

Abby gently squeezed Jack’s arm. “Let’s go, Doctor.”

Jack and Abby went to Bellos’s private elevator, stepped in, and pushed the button to floor #1.”

Bellos heard his Knofer again. As he walked, he listened. 

“Sir, this is Jacque at Time Trust in Post #2, Giza. We need to know how to proceed with our new guests.”

Bellos didn’t skip a beat, “Make sure they are comfortable, but isolated and secure. Contact me if there is a problem.”

Bellos walked to the oval room and took a call from the Andrews Emergency Room.

“Hello, Bellos here.”

“Yes Sir; this is Stacey, we need you here…”

Chapter 10     

Detective/ Detective

Gordon Swanson and Jake Burns finished their briefing, with the colonies’ security managers. They sat in Swanson’s office, thinking about the whirlwind of events. Jake took the moment to sort and keep issues, in perspective; but, he noticed an unusual look on Swanson’s face; something he never saw before.

“Sir…Gordon; are you all right?”

“Jake; I am just trying to put so many things together. I used to do this in less than a minute. You don’t miss being GGM, unless you need it.”

Jake shrugged and commented, “I have no idea what you mean. It’s all a puzzle; I realize that.”

“Follow me on this. The Carriers have always been the keepers of time travel; as long as I have known about it; well over 1200 years now that I know of. They have taught us the reality of time; that it is merely an abstract concept, which we humans invented and use to measure events or cycles. I accepted that premise, from the beginning, you see. Therefore, it was with much confidence that I accepted time travel could only take place within time measured. If
there is no measure, there is no time to travel within. That is why we could never go into the future. No event has taken place in time; or so we were convinced to think.”

“Yes, basic ‘Time-Trust’ orientation.” Jake scratched his head. “What are you thinking?”

“First, consider the recent discovery at the particle accelerator at O.P.A.S.-Oregon Particle Acceleration Sciences. Some time ago, they discovered a new atomic sub-particle. It ‘pulses’, differently than anything else ever detected. Test results showed that it is moving from one time to another, with each pulse. They called it the ‘bridge particle’. I was supposed to have a meeting with our contact in Seattle; but, your Bering Straits conference and Mathew’s ceremony postponed our sending anyone to meet. I want you to go there. Investigate the whole thing. Write this down, or activate your Knofer on its priority calendar…

…Second, consider our immediate danger, Brock. If he has found away to travel through time; how, precisely is he doing it?”

Jake thought and offered, “Perhaps he has found a way to use the discovery at O. P. A.S.”

“Precisely; but how? I have always found the simple and obvious to be our best guide. Let us consider; Mr. Brock simply bought the technology, bought the findings.”

“Sounds like him, that’s for sure.”

“Yes but; they wouldn’t sell that kind of thing. He must have done something else. He; he bought the man. He paid off an employee. Christ, Jake, he hired one of the scientists from O.P.A.S. to run Time Travel Inc. And then, when he was sure they discovered how to travel in time, he bought the company. By God; that is it!”

“But who?”

“Jake, contact our Post station in Seattle. See if any records show anyone at Brock’s new found treasure, who worked at O.P.A.S…Now man, do it!”

Jake tapped his Knofer and got a security station manager, under Seattle.

“Yes; this is Margret Carver; what can I do for you?”

“Yes, Carver; this is Jake Burns?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Pull up employee records for Oregon Particle Acceleration Sciences, outside Seattle. Also, pull up anything we have on Time travel Inc’s employee records. Are there any names that match?”

“Let me see, Sir; checking now; yes, just one, Sir.”

“Name, please”

“Dr. Hamil G. Stevens…Oxford, M.I.T., Randhouse Physics, Group Leader at MicroCern, before transferring to O.P.A.S.  Last year he accepted the position of Chief Particle Physicist at Tim Travel Inc.”

Burns and Swanson looked wide eyed at each other.
              “Thank you, Carver.”

Jake cut the call. Swanson sat shook his head. His mind was in overdrive.