The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) (28 page)

But why would anyone think a catastrophic loss of life was what she wanted? She needed that factory to produce the pendants and earpieces which enabled people without genetic upgrades to access the virtual world she had created. Everything she had done over the last five years had been to grant access to that world. There would be no grand insurance payout. She had no ownership stake in the factory. All her money had been tied up in producing product, and that inventory was now up in smoke, and she certainly had no motive to hurt anyone there.

Juliane spared the reporters another glance.
First they made me a whore, now they are making me a monster.
She toggled a setting on her communication program to automatically hide all but the most critical incoming call notifications.

She had to get away from the cameras. Punching elevator buttons, she quickly returned to her office. Stuart's report was laid open across her mind's eye before she had even closed the door.

One of the attachments in the file was an audio clip. Juliane’s translation tool automatically adjusted the speech. On it, a woman could be barely heard, her voice trembling as she whispered. In the background, Juliane heard screams and a repeating metallic popping sound.

“Oh please God! Help me! There are bodies everywhere. Help me! Please!” The popping sound resumed, cutting off some of the whispers. “ . . . to find me. You’ve got to do something. I can hear”—more pops and screams—“getting closer! Do something! Do something! Oh God! No!” There was a muffled sound like something being dragged away, and the audio ended.

Juliane's body shook as she took in the recording. If the popping sound was the explosion, then there had not been just one but instead, a fairly lengthy series of chain reactions.
It had to have been an accident.
Every failsafe in the entire facility would have needed to be manipulated to achieve such an effect. Juliane pounded her fist on the desk. Without being able to connect to a witness, she would have no means of determining exactly what happened, but she could no longer deny that something truly horrible had occurred.

Juliane flipped through more documents. The section related to the original investigation had shown much of what she had known from the beginning. The victim was described as a loner who had increasingly been the source of troubles on the line and who was facing disciplinary actions.

His superiors had performed all intervention activities per approved practices. They had even scheduled an all-hands assembly to discuss the matter and present support options, which was why there were so many people present in a single location when the explosion occurred.

A local team of first responders had made a handful of reports before they too seemed to disappear off the grid. Satellites provided WiFi around the world, but unless a person in the area was equipped with a pendant or ear clip, they had no access to it. It could be the reason why there were no further reports from the first responders, but it was becoming hard for Juliane to convince herself that there were any survivors.

A note showed that Stuart had tried reaching out to some of the locals. Only, his notes showed that people living in villages somewhat farther out had become superstitious and refused to assist in any further investigation. Juliane clenched her teeth. She didn’t know if she should feel relieved. There was nothing in the report that suggested she or her company played any role in the disaster, but that didn't make the explosion any less tragic.

Juliane considered replaying the audio recording to determine if she might be able to pull out additional details, but knew deep down it was unlikely that she would ever need to hear it again to remember the sounds of panic.
There is nothing else you can do, Juliane,
she told herself as she rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her chest.
Make the world better for those they left behind.
Focus on the mysteries you can solve.

Juliane may not be able to do anything to help those poor victims, but she still could make a difference. Reminded of Betty's equation, Juliane felt a stirring hope. She looked at the clippings adorning her office walls, and her shoulders slumped. Without production, she had no assets. She had no way to implement any of Betty's legacy on her own. Juliane considered her options. Her position within Damien's group granted her access to a number of potential investors, but her years of intentional isolation limited her personal Rolodex.

She could beg Louis for funds. He already had a vested interest in the project, but that idea was repugnant, and he would be unlikely to accept her proposal based on his new position on technology anyway.

She could go to Damien, but to secure the level of funding she would need would require her to submit her proposal in front of the entire board, which meant that it would be impossible to honor Betty's wish to keep it a secret from Alan.

Juliane chewed her lip as she made her choice.

Juliane spent the next few days refining her needs and perfecting her proposal. The reporters had dispersed when she hadn’t made an immediate appearance. Juliane, remembering her tabloid fame, did not trust the quiet. She assumed that while the whole press corps was no longer outside her door, at least one or two reporters or paparazzi were still camped out in more clandestine locations, either around her office or by her condo.

She sent a query to a real estate agent. Selling her condo wouldn’t be enough to fund her next steps, but it would at least help her maintain a little more independence. Alan was right; she didn’t live there anyway.

Juliane considered calling Durham to see if he might know a way to access some additional money but couldn't bring herself to ask for more help. She would have to follow through with her original plan.

As prepared as she could be, she made her way across town toward Damien’s building. The building looked much as it had the first day she had seen it. The sandstone exterior was just as clean and bright as the day it had first been constructed.
Damien must spend a fortune in upkeep
, Juliane thought. The material was beautiful but prone to blacken as it absorbed everyday urban gases.

When she reached Damien’s floor, his executive assistant met her at the door. Sarah had grown in confidence over the years. Gone was the people pleaser. She had always been an extremely capable administrator, but there was now an edge about her. She seemed harder, less forgiving. She and Juliane hadn't gotten along any better since the day of their first meeting.

“Juliane. You finally decided to come out of hiding?”

“I need to talk to Damien about some recent developments.”

“I’m sure you do, but you should know that he is well aware of the recent . . . unpleasantness.”

Juliane fought the urge to bite her lip or otherwise signal to Sarah that her words meant anything to her. Sarah would only use them against her. It seemed as if Sarah's wounded pride from their first encounter was something that time would never heal.

“Then I am sure he would be willing to fit me into his schedule.”

Sarah broke eye contact first, looking up and to the right, and yet at nothing in particular. Juliane watched as Sarah’s body seemed to take on a light glow. If Juliane hadn’t been looking for it, she might not have noticed it.

“You're accessing the network," Juliane stated.

Sarah blinked, and the glow disappeared. Sarah allowed for one side of her mouth to twist in a half smile. “How could you tell?”

“You glowed. I saw your skin interacting with the network.”

Sarah’s smiled melted into a frown. “I was told that the light fluctuations wouldn’t be noticeable.”

“And they probably aren’t to the average eye, but I've had a few years of experience. I assume that you were checking Damien’s calendar just then?”

Sarah’s frown deepened. “You may go in. It seems he has been expecting you after all.”

Juliane inclined her head in acknowledgement before turning and entering Damien’s suite.

Damien was already walking toward the door as she crossed the threshold. “Ah, Juliane, you are looking lovely today. The fresh air from the other night seems to have done you some good.”

“Thank you again for the tickets. It was . . . um . . . a new experience.”

“One that I hope that you’ll want to repeat again soon.”

“We’ll just have to see what time allows.”

“Always so non-committal when it involves anything other than your work. How is everything going by the way? I heard that there may have been an explosion involving one of our manufacturing sites.”

Juliane felt her eyes tighten at his choice in words. She had been operating independently for so long that she had forgotten that he also had an interest in the news story. “That's what I’ve been able to ascertain as well, although communication seems to have been completely cut off.”

“So why are you here telling me this?”

Juliane's forehead wrinkled. “I came here to discuss next steps. I’ve recently come into possession of some research that could—”

Damien’s laughter interrupted Juliane’s pitch.

“I meant why, Juliane, are you in my office when you could be at the site confirming the extent of the damage firsthand? Are you not at all curious as to what happened?”

“Of course I am!" She couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. Juliane could hear the screams of the woman on the audio file in her memory as if on constant playback. After the first two nights ruined by nightmares, Juliane had taken to pulling energy constantly from available inductive sources. “But that's not what I am here about."

"Oh?"

"I have recently inherited a big discovery. Potentially life changing. I’ve already proved that a portion of the theory works, and now I just need a little help in deploying it on a much larger scale."

“Damien.” Sarah did not even attempt to offer an apology for interrupting their meeting. “I just received word that there is a credible threat against several of our retail distribution sites.”

“Threat?” he repeated. “What kind of threat?”

“Messages were intercepted between members of a radical anti-technology group, which detailed plans to blow up several major distribution hubs, ours included.”

“Was anyone able to determine when this attack is expected to occur?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“And do they know how the bombs are expected to enter the buildings?”

Sarah shook her head. Damien continued as if he never anticipated that she might offer another answer. “Then we really have no choice but to increase our level of diligence internally, but we need to externally appear as if everything is business as normal. We don't want to incite a panic.”

Sarah bowed her head and began backing out of the room. “Yes, sir. I’ll notify the appropriate parties.”

Damien turned back to Juliane. “It would seem that you might not be the only one with problems that need addressing. Perhaps it is for the best that you stay in the country after all. Now, why don’t you tell me more about this theory you’ve come across?”

Juliane felt her shoulders relax. “Well, on the surface, it is really quite simple,” she began.

For the hundredth time, Juliane squashed the urge to fling her arms towards the sky in celebration. Everything was working out better than she had originally anticipated. She couldn't remember why she had ever hesitated confiding in Damien. She gazed up at the monument she and Damien had worked to erect and was momentarily blinded by its brilliant white surface. She grinned. The statue with its intricate whirls and detailed carvings was just a simple shell. The true marvel was the power transformation system inspired by Betty's equation. Hidden underneath the stone was a series of converters, relays, and transformers. Once the complete system was online, it would also act as a receiver in addition to distributing power along the grid. Another monument located on the other side of the globe would perform a similar function. Juliane caressed the marble. This was a legacy to be proud of.
This is for you, Betty.

In order to maximize the system's potential, the placement sites were absolutely critical. Unfortunately, as Juliane had realized in the months following her original discussion with Damien, alternative energy projects weren't always as well received in practice as they were on paper. No one wanted them in their backyard.

Damien had immediately thought of a way to get around the problem. He had suggested that they disguise the necessary antenna pairs as beautifully sculptured works of art. The land where they would be placed would be manicured as a park. Yes, it would add a little extra expense to the project, but as long as the monument didn't look like a power plant, the neighbors likely wouldn't attempt to delay the project. Once the plan was set, his speed to execution was dizzying.

Damien had commissioned a master artist to design both monuments in honor of his favorite scientists. The marble construction towering above her was dedicated to Marie Curie and showed the woman reaching toward the stars, a globe representing an atom perched on her extended fingertip.

The second statue had been dedicated to Charles Darwin. It too had a matching globe on top of a walking stick. The hand not resting on the walking stick was stretched out toward the sky,
while a series of marble animals lay draped down the statue’s steps. Both statues had been beautiful on paper but were breathtaking in reality, especially if one ignored the real animal droppings that marked their surfaces within minutes of their unveiling.

Betty would have been bringing the champagne out around now, thought Juliane. Her grin slipped. You always did want to celebrate too soon. The park had been the easy part.

In order to complete the project, Juliane still had to deploy solar sheets into orbit and bury the thermal energy matrix storage system deep underground. Damien had been willing to sign off on the park's construction, but she was going to have to approach the board to request the rest of what was needed.

Juliane was confident the board presentation was a minor rubber stamp in the process, otherwise Damien would not have already invested so much, but she hadn't yet figured out how to continue to keep Alan from learning who originally came up with the system's equation. While she had figured out its potential, the idea's basis was fairly outside her area of expertise. Juliane's lips twisted. Thus far, honoring Betty's last wish was less difficult than she first imagined. As much as she wanted to verify that he was managing her loss and that Stevie was okay, she hadn't seen or heard from Alan since the day of the football game. As little as Alan wanted to discuss Stevie's condition before, she just didn't feel right intruding further on his privacy.
The poor man must be devastated. We'll talk when he's ready.