Ever-Life the Two Book Set: The C.P.T Incident and Time Trust (8 page)

“Thank you.”

Angie smiled as he closed the door behind him. She turned and studied the remarkable room. The floors were immaculate, dark teakwood, partially covered with a large oval Persian rug. In all the years she had worked at Andrews, she never went into Bellos’s office, although she did visit his home outside the complex frequently. She noticed the walls were a color-coordinated subdued beige and green, with just a hint of gold shine that sparkled. The furniture was a combination of dark green leather, with mahogany wood, carved meticulously with unrecognizable characters. There were masterful oil paintings hanging, and bookshelves between the two hallways that extended out from the main room. Angie stepped down from the foyer, turning and studying every sight. The walls seemed to curve up from the floor to a round dome oculus, made of beveled and stained glass. On the outside of it, there were strategically placed lamps that shined in, to illuminate the glass designs of the four seasons.

For a moment, she felt as if there was a touch of church in Bellos’s heart. She went to look closely at the paintings
, on the walls. She remembered her college classes in art history and the trips abroad, which she had taken at Dr. B.’s expense. She recognized each artist. They were original works by Manet, Renoir, and Matisse.

“This is spectacular, “she said to herself. “It’s not ju
st an office, is it? Oh my; how did you get all this stuff; security cameras in every corner; not much privacy, Dr. B.?”

Between the two hallways and the
front foyer, there was a large floor to ceiling bookcase.

“Jesus
; these are priceless Medical Reference Books; in English, French, Latin, Greek, even Hebrew; and that’s Aramaic, I think; Chinese too. I should have bought my college textbooks here. Those look like Egyptian or South American Indian symbols. Who can read this stuff?”

She opened
the bookcase’s glass doors. One of the back bindings, on the top shelf, caught her eye. It seemed to glow.

“What the heck is that?”

There were only two letters on its binding, ‘D.P.’. She found a stepstool in the corner; and, even standing on her tiptoes, Angie was barely able to stick her index finger under the bottom of the book, causing it to fall on the floor. The book had a beautiful pearl white leather binding, with shiny large gold embossed lettering on the front cover. It simply read ‘John Avuar Sheldon’. Angie picked it up, took it to the couch and opened it to the front page.

“I
t feels brand new. I wonder what ‘DP-111249’ means?” 

Just then, she heard the front door lock click. She had just enough time to shove the book behind her. The guard opened the door.

“Are you okay, Miss.? I heard a thump. I thought you may have fallen.”

“Yes, I’m fine;
thanks. I tripped and hit the table, looking around at all of this. I’m sorry.”

“Please, be careful. Can I do anything for you?”

“Um; yes, as a matter of fact; you can, if you would. I need several things from my purse.”

“I’m sorry Miss. I can’t leave. I can call someone to get it for you?”

“That would be great. Can you get in touch with Nurse, Ralph Walker? He is staff, on floor two. If you would, ask him to go to my nurse locker 203. He knows where it is. Ask him to bring me my large gray bag?”

“Yes Miss.”

He smiled and shut the door. Angie picked up the book again, stood up and quickly walked into a hallway out of sight to find a private spot to read. She didn’t turn on lights; trying to keep out of security camera’s vision. She intended only to glance into each room as she passed by; but, the first one was the doctor’s bedroom, and she couldn’t resist walking in. Behind the large bed was a magnificent bay window, overlooking the hospital atrium. His suite was enormous and had an adjacent bath, sunken tub and power rain shower. She began examining everything. Thoughts raced through her mind..

It all seems so comfortable
, somehow; beautiful carvings in the bedposts. They look like those Egyptian/American Indian symbols; but its more than that; Déjà vu.

Then, she noticed
a couple of photographs, on the night table and wall.

“Oh my, that’s me; that’s me in middle school; and that’s my medical school graduation. Dr. B. you were there, but why are these pictures here, like this?”

She pondered as she walked. Through the next door, she found a completely furnished research laboratory.

This has more equipment than some of the research sections in the Complex.

Directly across the hall from the lab was a compute
r room containing three suspended large paper thin transparent monitors and four L-shaped computers, sitting on a beautiful wrap around wooden desk. She touched and studied the side of the desk.

T
he same carvings as on his bed; fascinating…

One item on the desk was a solid gold paperweight, twelve inches high; a fish standing on its tail, with a dollar sign coming out of its mouth. The statue had a strange word etched on its base, Allenfar.

Each computer monitor displayed video
, and an audio tape traced across the bottom of the screen. Each tape showed a different international time zone and displayed a different language. Two tapes were running characters that looked like the symbols carved in the desk and bed.  Angie walked out and continued her exploration. Further down the hall, she found a second bathroom. There was just enough moonlight shining in, for her to sit down, open the book and read. There was no copyright or publisher described on the first pages. Page 5 just began,
“The following is duplication record of subject J.A.S. instructed by Ever-Life examiners 10362 and 10365, Lab-202, Level-red 6, this day-3635996.46.”

After ten pages, she began to skim, but by page fifty, she whispered to herself, “My God, maybe that was Jack Sheldon in 309.”

Then, she saw a security camera in the ceiling’s corner, behind the sink, and thought,
Dr. B., you watch yourself in the bathroom. This is not happening…

I know what I saw and what I heard tonight. Shit, what should I do? I have to tell someone. The guy in 309 did look like Jack Sheldon, one of the big three-Bellos, Jack and Rachel…Rachel…
?

She looked up from the book.

…His wife; she is a doctor, she has to know something. I‘ve got to get out of here.

Angie walked quickly back out to the oval room. She put the book back on the shelf. Then
, she poured another glass of water and sat on the couch, pondering.

“I need Ralphy. I know I can trust him. I know he will help; if not, then what?”

She looked around and fixed on a door in the foyer, just to the right of the front door. It was a thinner, smaller one, which she had mistaken for a closet. She walked over.

“It’s an elevator?”

She pushed the button on the wall, the door slid open, and she stepped in.

“Why Dr. B., a private elevator; according to this panel, there are sixteen floors to the hospital. Everyone knows there are only ten.”

She pushed number one on the panel, but nothing happened. She pushed repeatedly; nothing.

“Damn! Maybe Ralphy can fiddle with this thing. He is good with electrical stuff.”

Angie walked out and back down to the bookcase. She took the white book down again.

“The hell with it; what are they going to do? Dr. B said to give me anything I want.”

So, she took a breath and began reading from page one.

Chapter 8    

Rachel & Jack

Only those who have lost true love can begin to imagine the emotions that flooded Rachel Sheldon. She awoke in ER-1, not knowing how much time had passed, with an overwhelming sense that she
must get home. She called Matt from the room, even paged him several times, but he did not answer. Finally, against Bellos’s request, she decided to drive home. Driving was horrible. She pulled in the driveway, only to sit numb, shaking and thinking,
I rushed home, to what?

S
he was still a bit foggy from the sedative. One second, she was in the car, and the next, she was on the couch in their living room. She sank into the cushions and closed her eyes. Then, her eyes popped open and she exploded up, off the couch, and began running through the house, with scattered thoughts. With mindless impulses, she began gathering and digging out photos of family history, friends and trips. She took them off the refrigerator, out of drawers, finding one snapshot here and another there. With her arms full of all shapes and sizes, and three albums, she dumped it all on the living room coffee table and sat, to catch her breath. Concentrating, she began making piles, and studying. Each photo took her back to their life’s special memories. Sadly, she sobbed and focused, fumbling and staring, thinking about each picture
.

That’s Jack and me in our down stairs lab. What are you doing, silly?

This is one from the banquet, when we got the second check for the new funding, from Marion Brock. What a night that was…A lot of money, Jack. We never did finish the details of all that.

She looked again
, and suddenly felt sick.

“My God, who i
s that in the background?”

She sunk her head back down into the cushion and closed her eyes. Then, as if struck by lightning, she shocked up and picked up that picture again.

“It can’t be!  That has to be a mistake.”

She put the one picture aside and began rearranging others, looking for what could not be. She found three more photos.

“I must be going mad.”

She left the rest in piles on the coffee table and studied the four closely. Two were from Jack’s cell phone, one was from Rachel’s and one was from Marion Brock
’s camera. She ran to their den and got their old family ‘computer pad’. It seemed hours for the damn thing to start. She screened, downloaded, enlarged and enhanced the four photos. Then the epiphany; there was no question.

Oh my God; it is Jack… He is there, and there, in the same photo twice.

She sat back
.

Why didn’t I notice this before? He clearly appears twice in each of these.
It has to be double exposure.

Her nerves went into overdrive and
her hands began to shake.

Rachel Sheldon had four undergraduate degrees, two masters; and, she received her P
hD in Microbiological Processing. On this day; at this time; in this intensity; she needed to bring every intellectual wherewithal she possessed, to make any sense of this. She began again slowly trying to reconstruct some terribly odd puzzle; and, it was looking like a nightmare of impossibilities. She picked up the computer and studied each of the pictures again. Frustrated, exhausted and tearful, she sat thinking. Finally, she collapsed back into the couch.

“Jack, what’s happened? This can‘t be ri
ght, for God’s sake!”

S
he stood up and paced the room.

“Shit!
Jack, your research.”

She ran to the downstairs
lab and muddled through his desk and files. She found his manuscript.

“It has new pages, a lot of new pages…Christ, Jack.”

As she opened the book, she thought back to when he first told her about it…

**********

Jack had first created his theory decades ago. However, it wasn’t until March of the first year they met
, when Jack shared his work with Rachel. They became so intimate so fast; he trusted her with all of it. She had stopped by Jack’s lab, to find him puttering with a microscope, and writing feverishly.

“Hi, Hon; it’s 7:30 p.m. I thought you would have hit me up for dinner by now.

“Hi Babe… I was going to. Just give me a minute.”

“Wacha doin?” She said with a flirty smirk. “Something I can help you with doctor
, hmm?”

Jack smiled, looked up and squinted.

“Yes, you can tell me what you think. But; and I mean this; only if you’re willing to be serious. Then, I promise, dinner and whatever you want.”

“Hmm, sounds like I’ll pull out the chap’s n ha
t for you, Baby…Woo-hoo, cowboy!”

They grinned at each other. Then, Rachel changed her tone.

“Fine, what is it?”

“Something I’ve had on my mind, since I was a boy, really. It’s the reason I got into medicine. We all have our pets, and this is mine. I
would like you to know about it; see what you really think.”

“Okay; but why the mystery?”

“I’m just possessive about it and haven’t shared this with anyone.”

“In that case; I am flattered
, Darlin.”

Jack took a breath. “Okay, well;
you know how we all talked in college about the Universe and life. You remember those days?”

“Yes, of course I do. My first real love was Ben Verona. He was so macho and smart, philosophically speaking. He knew all the theories of the time
, about the Universe; oh my; but, BEN VERONA; just his name; I mean, NO, sorry.”