Hi everyone!
I want to wish you Happy Holidays! It's been a couple of crazy weeks for me and I was eager to find time to write.
Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you enjoy this one. I find it a bit heavy storywise.
Enjoy!
The story captivated everyone. Gordon's oratory talent was something he only demonstrated when boasting about his accomplishments. Nonetheless, his narrative was colorful and stirred up his audience, making them attentive until the end. Scott was curious about how Gordon managed to escape his adventure alive and concluded he survived only because of Parker. Never would his light headed and frivolous brother have reached the border if he had not received help from a professional, someone who had already encountered hardships in his life. The aquanaut was, after all, a pampered young man.
The elder remembered seeing his mother struggle with him and his siblings when his father was away, trying desperately to instill discipline in that lot of boys. Gordon was the worst. When the news of Lucille's passing came to the family, he sought comfort in material things. And Jeff gave him everything he needed so he could get over his mother's death. But seeing how he managed to pull his escape from Bereznik, Scott knew his brother had grown from the experience. It was going to change him, hopefully, for the best.
Gordon took a sip of water and he sat down near Penelope, taking her hand in his and smiling. Alan had been there, watching his brother narrate his story, in silence, floating in space. He kept working on the computer while the story unfolded. The airwaves were incredibly quiet; the declaration of war had done its damage. Many flights had been canceled; air traffic had been reduced to a minimum. That would also mean that International Rescue might have a hard time getting an authorization to fly in case of an emergency. He hoped nothing was going to pop up while the family was still on edge.
Chronos' holographic projection appeared on the table. He had taken the appearance of a strongly built black man wearing a rune patterned bodysuit with a tippet and high collar. His look would have better fit a comic book character of an Egyptian god; it made him look ridiculous. He began to speak.
- I see you all gathered as expected. I do hope you are sufficiently rested to process the information that I will provide to you.
John was the one who took the lead.
- Listen, Chronos. Things are not going very well… for any of us. Whatever you can provide by means of information, we will gladly listen to. First, you must be aware of the shockwave that destroyed the life support system on the GDF spaceship. What exactly happened?
- This was no shockwave as you intend it, but a rather large EMP wave. Once my algorithm was executed, it began downloading through the link thus "installing" me to your station. You are partly to blame since there was an opened link towards the GDF's systems which was accessed by one of my slave programs. A few simple code lines, enough to overload electronics and create a powerful magnetic field. Basically, it was a program which acted on his own volition. It overloaded a component from their station and created the wave which also engulfed yours. Your AI tried to fight it; we know how it resulted. Do not worry, she is unarmed and resting in my code.
The space monitor frowned.
- Is there any way they can find out about this? Can they trace it back to us?
Chronos smiled. His stern face made him look even more like a caricature.
- No. It will be impossible to track the origin. They only thing they might trace is your sloppy infiltration in their systems. You are lucky for I have erased your presence and made sure you would not be discovered.
- How nice of you…
- High one. I am being humble while suggesting you this appellation.
- Whatever. Let's cut to the chase now that we know we are all safe. What is it you know that can help us?
He displayed a large multilayered complex on the central table's hologram. It was well detailed. The main building seemed to be made of rough stone and carved exactly like the Acropolis. Adjacent buildings were also using the same type of architecture with a touch of modern technology. It was more a work of art but also seemed to display functionalities which would make it hard to access. The surrounding area was barren, there was no tree or grass anywhere around it. The place looked almost alien.
- This is Olympus. The safe heaven where war doesn't exist.
Gordon intervened.
- Where there are humans, there is war. It's impossible otherwise for such a place to exist.
- There are no humans there anymore. Only perfected individuals, specially enhanced people who work tirelessly, day and night, with little to no regard for their own health and wellbeing.
- What do you mean? Do they conduct experiments on humans there?
Alan pitched in too.
- You spoke of a plague. I'd like to know what Holling is planning to release and where he's going to use it.
Chronos cleared his voice.
- Please, decorum in the assistance. The plague spoken of is not a sickness or rather, it has become the sickness of this world.
John reacted.
- Humans.
- Exactly. The world's resources are at an all-time low. This is why his project targeted vulnerable people of low social status: to save the wealthy and the educated. Sixty percent of a country's inhabitant consists of people with low income.
Scott was listening, arms crossed. His mood did not improve over time. He was becoming impatient; his only desire was to begin his search for Kayo.
- Get to the point.
Chronos sighed.
- If you want it the crude way: the ultimate goal of Holling's company was to get rid of the poor, the weak and the vulnerable in order to build strong societies. He was given money and asked to provide a solution for the world's increasing amount of people in need. He did; the learning chip was invented. He implanted it on most of his workers, making them prone to erratic behaviors if they omitted their regular intake of Acidosemine.
Scott was unimpressed, expressing his boredom by blowing some air, sighing. Chronos continued.
- There is more. With our help, a veritable arsenal was built. Then, he solicited the help of an external resource: Frederic Hanse. This man was both despicable and immoral, not even bearing a single considerate thought about the impact of his actions. He began enhancing humans at large scale outside of Olympus as well.
It was Zeta who intervened this time.
- I always thought Hanse was a dirty old man… tell me he does not do anything else than lab work…
- I prefer not detailing Hanse's criminal file lest you wish to spend the evening listening to legalities? Also, I doubt you would be ready to hear how gruesomely disfigured and dismembered his victims were found.
John's eyes widened. His curiosity was not satisfied.
- Why enhance humans? To what end?
- Have you ever heard of gene editing? It is a fine way to rid ourselves of many diseases, change our resistance to our environment, even extend our life. Combined with the nanites, you have a perfected human being capable of exceeding a normal human's capacities. You can also enhance intellect, physical features like strength and agility, appearance and so on. For more detailed information, I would refer you to Cradle Alpha's black boxes as it is far from my field of expertise.
Alan stopped all he was doing and diverted his attention to the conversation. To him, it sounded like one of his video games.
- Basically, he's building himself an army of perfected humans, am I right?
Chronos smiled.
- It is exactly his desire. However, he did slow his ambitions when the Council began stuffing its nose in his business.
Alan answered.
- I guess he's got a political agenda, too.
- He does. Using the most unlikely human beings, implanting them with a learning chip and editing their genetic code, he was able to turn these people into veritable fighting machines. And with the use of Acidosemine, he does not need to make amends. These people are completely unaware of what is happening to them. If Olympus has remained manned ever since he already has a lot of them at his disposition.
- I'm still not convinced to what is driving him to achieve such a thing. I mean, why does he need a fighting force?
- The need for private military services is on the rise. About fifty years ago, you would name these people "mercenaries". Now, they are an organized band of trained soldiers answering to a businessman. Wars are waged for money now, and if Holling can put his troops to work knowing they require only basic needs, then he has created a very profitable army. Those people will be fed, geared and cared for but they will not be aware of what is happening to them, ignoring leisure, pay and even their own families. The only thing they are trained to do is kill and survive. One cannot have better warriors than drugged, mindless, genetically altered humans.
Scott seemed intrigued by this statement from the entity. His annoyance was visible as he was frowning, his teeth clenched.
- What do you mean, mindless? Is this what happened to Kayo?
- You mean your female friend? Most likely. And if her genetic strain is close to ours, this means she has been selected to become even more. They will make her a God, just like us.
The elder's voice rose.
- Shut up with your fucking nonsense! You're not a god, just some stupid arrogant asshole who thinks he's superior to everyone else. If there is anything you are hiding from us, I swear, you're going to regret ever existing!
Chronos' only response was to smile, arrogantly. Grandma intervened.
- Scott Tracy, stop screaming and mind your tongue! We're all worried about Kayo but we cannot rush out like this in hopes to get to her!
As the old woman was trying to instill some discipline, Scott walked passed her, getting to Thunderbird One's chute.
- Just try to stop me!
His brother looked at him, knowing all too well none of them could reason with him, let alone stand up to him. Only Virgil could have grabbed his brother and slapped some sense back on him.
As the elder took place in his seat and prepared for lift-off, his commands were locked. He raged, punching the console.
- You fucking dick, Chronos! Let me at it! You have no right to stop me from acting in my own home! I'll have you formatted!
There was a silence. Alan's voice broke it, trembling. He appeared in Scott's hub, clenching his fists, standing up to his elder.
- Bro… I'm the one who canceled your launch. Be reasonable. You can't rush out now even knowing where she is. It's dangerous and stupid. We all want Kayo back, and we all are worried SICK about her. Just, don't do this… You're the one who's always telling us to calm down and assess situations before acting. Please…
The youngest's eyes were filled with tears. He was afraid to do this, afraid to stand up to the one who was supposed to be the fatherly figure. Scott was about to burst; upon noticing his brother's eyes, he took a deep breath. It was stupid, reckless. He exited the cockpit and went back up to the living room. Everyone was still waiting but no one stared at him when he came back. They understood his actions, his sudden need to rush out to get to the woman he loved, his anger, his distress for each of them had experienced it at least once in the past few days.
They remained together for a while, in complete silence, trying to find the courage to say something. John got up.
- We're all shaken by the recent events and it's useless to persist on the matter. You guys get some rest. It's been raining cats and dogs outside and Virgil is still not back. I'm going after him.
Penelope nodded.
- I will be retiring now and continue gathering intel. There is still so much we can uncover from the director's files. Zeta, I would require your help, please.
She got up and left the room, accompanied by Gordon close behind. The Slavic agent followed the aristocrat. Parker decided to hang around the kitchen with Grandma, leaving Scott alone to think, sitting down behind his father's desk.
- Only one thought invaded his mind: "Father, what would you have done next?".
The rain made the sea restless. The waves crashed on the rocks surrounding the island, washing on the beach aggressively. The falling drops were now cold, pummelling down from the darkened sky. John knew his brother would remain outside even though the elements were raging. The second eldest was stubborn, maybe not as much as his elder, yet they all inherited this trait from their father. He picked up two raincoats and a towel before dressing up and going outside.
There was little place for taking refuge: the tide had risen, engulfing most of the beach as the waves were claiming the rest. It was unlikely that Virgil was there and, knowing him well, he would not put himself in danger just because he was angry. Instead, another place seemed more likely to have been his destination. John climbed a flight of stairs chiseled into the mountain itself. Ivy and moss covered the ground, making it slippery as it was wet; he walked carefully not to slip and fall. Right at the top was a natural crater, large enough to house a Japanese garden complete with a red wooden canopy furnished with Adirondack chairs. It was a quiet place, even with the pouring rain, it completely inhibited the noise from the restless sea. As he thought, he could see Virgil sitting under the structure, shielded from the rain.
John approached the canopy, his footstep deafened by the ambient sound of falling rain. Only when he stepped onto the wooden floor did he hear his brother.
- I want to be alone. Just… go away.
He stopped. It was not like him to impose himself but rather to be patient and wait for the right moment. After a few minutes of being immobile in the rain, Virgil let out a loud sigh.
- You win, John. Come and sit down with me.
The space monitor smiled shyly while approaching. He took out the towel and the coat from under his and rested both on his brother's lap before sitting down in front of him.
- You'll need this. You're soaking wet and likely to catch a cold.
- Nice of you to worry but I'm fine, really.
Both of them remained silent, listening to the falling rain. Virgil broke the silence, his voice weaker than usual.
- Why John? Tell me…
It took a few seconds for John to answer. He wanted to use choice words.
- Scott acted in favor of our family and our organization. His method was disgusting and cowardly… yet it was probably the best way to go.
Virgil clenched his fist, breathing deeply.
- I can't… I can't forgive him. Having me drugged… and selling her off. Why John? How can he have a clear conscience after giving her back to her torturers? He didn't understand a thing about her…
- I know. I saw them, too… the recordings, I mean. Some were so creepy and scary they kept me up at night. But… she's strong, Virgil. We'll save her.
The second eldest turned away, not wanting his brother to witness the tears building up in his eyes.
- We can't… It's impossible to get her back now with what's coming to her…
John did not know what to say to his brother. Being hopeful was not realistic, and he hated that. He had to have a firm grasp over matters and approach them in the most pragmatic way possible.
- Virg, we can still try. We have Penelope back now, I'm sure she'll come up with something. She has good leads, we can rely on her.
The musician rested his head backward. It was not at all like him to be like this, defeated and depressive. He did not utter a single word. John went on.
- It's not over yet. We'll have to question Chronos about the awakening and all that it implies. We might have overlooked something.
- They'll use her to make those soldiers. You saw it… she is the key to all their research. What if they keep her in stasis again? I can't… I can't stomach her being strapped down and bled dry for the sole purpose of Holling's greed.
There was a silence. The sky lightened and the rainfall slowed. John looked at the path.
- We should go back now. How about we work with Penelope and Zeta to find more about what's going to happen? I know we are all shaken by the recent events after what happened to all of us, but we have to keep it together. Please, Virg. You're the one always cheering us up, we need you now, more than ever.
Virgil turned towards his brother, wiping his face with the towel before raising his eyes to meet his.
- I can't. And I won't. I'll help Penelope and try to find a solution but don't expect me to be all smiles. I'm angry, sad, muddled… I don't know what to think anymore. So please, just don't rush me. I know we'll work our way through this shitstorm but it won't happen overnight.
John patted his brother on the shoulder, smiling comprehensively.
- I'll tell the boys to give you space. Scott mostly. Gordon will behave considering Penelope is here and Alan is up in Thunderbird Five. I'll stay here for the time being to make sure you guys are better.
Virgil smiled a little. He did not have the strength to do otherwise. The space monitor got up and left, leaving his brother alone in the gazebo. There was still a lot to do to pick up the pieces of his family and make them stick together again.
The top floor of the Grand Plaza Hotel was looking lively. It was a terrace, available for rent for celebrations by posh people of London. Tonight, it was a private party hosted by Marcus Holling, comprising of a group of doctors, assistants and military personnel from various organizations, all linked to the Olympus project. This was a party where Georges Henry Phelps was neither invited nor welcomed but his duty was to investigate and this was the best place to begin. His only lead about the event had been when he eavesdropped on a conversation between two bureaucrats. Most of the details came out and it was easy for him to add the missing information. The lack of invitation clearly meant he had stumbled upon an event worth looking into.
Upon entering the lobby, something struck him as odd: the lack of metal detectors at the entrance. Either the management was confident or they had other means of scanning for unwanted arms. This was becoming interesting. He began recording as soon as he set foot in the building. Dressed up in a black suit with a bow tie, hair gelled and combed almost too chic for the evening, he made his way through the crowd towards the bar. He did not come without a few interesting gadgets: camera in his bow tie, tear gas cuff links, a miniature gauntlet computer, easily accessible through the clothing if need be. Of course, his trusty composite 9mm was tucked into his pants in his back, if anything was to go awry.
As he reached the top floor, he was greeted by a hostess dressed in a tight black velvet dress. She was holding a tray with glasses filled with champagne. He politely refused before going forward through the crowd. The bar was an appropriate place to lay low; he began scrutinizing the entire assistance from there. The only faces he recognized to be in command were Laura Baker, Colonel Dixon and a few key individuals of the administrative personnel.
It did not take long for people to notice his presence. Lieutenant Colonel Baker was the first person to approach him.
- Director Phelps, what a pleasure to see you here.
- Pleasure as always Lieutenant Colonel. I trust you are here on behalf of Colonel Casey?
Laura Baker signaled the barmaid for a gin tonic. She sat down near the director.
- Actually, I received an invitation. I'm usually following the Colonel in these events but this is the first time I get one addressed to me for a private command party. What about you? I have heard that Dixon wants to do some changes to the department of secret services…
- Yes. My guess is he will be giving me my leave soon.
- But why? You have always been efficient, and the investigations conducted under you were the most successful. I doubt Dixon ignores that.
- He doesn't. This is why he wants to get rid of me. Also, because I kept investigating Marcus Holling for a while after the case was settled in court. Yet, I am curious to see which faces will turn up here tonight.
The barmaid served Baker's drink on a cardboard coaster picturing a symbol he could not recognize. She took a sip while he went on.
- Are you aware of the danger of being here at least?
- Danger? What danger? This is a social gathering. Plus, we have top of the line security measures. Metal detectors and scanners are obsolete compared to it. Nobody could sneak a weapon in here without being noticed.
He smiled.
- You are very confident about these measures.
- Yes. It will be what the GDF will be using next. Pity you could not attend the conference this morning. High command will be settling the conflict quickly and without massive losses.
- What about it? What are there amazing new gadgets worthy of the GDF's attention?
She tried to contain her gasping face.
- You do not know? If not then… I'm sorry, it's classified.
He dropped the interrogation, knowing all too well she would not give anything away. Laura Baker was able to keep a lot of secrets when required. He looked around at the audience again. She asked:
- Are you looking for someone in particular?
- Just looking around. Do you know the reason behind this gathering?
- Let's just say it's a long-time reunion. Mister Holling will make announcements soon concerning his implication in the war project. His solutions are top of the line advancements. He bragged about the fact that they were so advanced, the Thunderbirds would pale in comparison.
Phelps smiled.
- A lot of people said that. Turns out they end up being saved by those same ships. What makes you think this will be any different?
She finished her glass and asked for another one. Phelps thought it might be a good idea to keep her talking, as the more alcohol she would ingest, the more talkative she might become. It was a guess he wanted to try. She answered after saluting a guest with a nod.
- I cannot tell you more, Director. All will be known in due time, I'm afraid. So many things are happening at the same time. It would be wiser to wait and see.
Such evasive answers angered him, even more from a lower ranked officer. He kept his composure, not betraying his current state of mind. Something was fishy. He asked boldly.
- Do you know about project Olympus, lieutenant?
- A little. Why?
- That little is shading the truth. All you see is the tip of the iceberg. You do know that a lot of things are happening that you don't know about?
There was something in her eyes that changed. She looked at the guests, grabbing her new drink and said, promptly.
- It's always the case. Now, please, if you'll excuse me, I will go back towards the guests.
She left without looking back. When Phelps turned around, he was greeted by the sight of two bodyguards heading towards him through the crowd. They did not resemble any of the men under his jurisdiction; he decided it was a good time to leave and not create a fuss. Luckily, the elevator was already on the top floor. It did not take him long to get in and punch the first-floor button. The door closed; the men were not in sight.
The elevator went to a stop upon reaching the 15th floor. It took a few seconds before it began moving anew, back towards the top. At first, he wondered if it was the bodyguards' doing, hoping to get their hands on him but, as it stopped on the 18th floor, he noticed it was not the case.
He exited in a very cozy room: this floor was one of the restricted ones, requiring a specific key card to access. It was a lounge, decorated in heavy tapestries and vintage furniture, in deep burnt oranges and beige tints. Portraits of the various English kings and queens hung on the wall aside Rembrandt and Rubens, the trimmings on the wall were painted gold to complete the lavish Rococo style. There was nobody around.
He walked into the room, wondering what was happening until he heard a familiar voice.
- My dear director! And there I thought such parties were of little interest to you. To what do I owe the pleasure?
Marcus Holling walked into the vast room wearing a dressing gown, holding a bottle of whiskey. The director held his head high, trying to hide the fact that he was running away seconds before.
- A simple visit, nothing much. You know you cannot hide anything from me.
Holling walked towards a small bar. He poured himself a glass.
- Why would I? If I may, I know you are desperate to try to stop me. Unfortunately for you, it is already too late, my friend. Right now, all you can do is resign. Olympus is now a legitimate project, accepted by the Council.
Phelps frowned.
- Right until they understand what is really happening there, you may act as you please. That will be sooner than you expect.
- Oh, you mean about the experiments? They know. Either they turned a blind eye to it or inevitably accepted that it was the future of mankind.
- You're sick in the head, Holling!
Holling laughed and downed his glass in one gulp.
- The Council fears Bereznik. They fear their military power, their research on alien diseases… This was an easy win for me.
- What diseases? There was nothing of the sort in the reports… Don't tell me…
Phelps paled.
- You are making these up… Are you creating the fright yourself?
He shrugged.
- War has never been simple, director. But there is something that will not change: fear. Campaigning on fear always gives the best results. I won, Phelps. Give up.
The director's mood suddenly shifted. He could not contain his anger.
- I knew it! I knew you were playing us all along! And now, you're going to get rid of me? That is so cliché.
- No. I think I will make an example of you. Yes… that's a great idea. An example of what it costs to try to cross me.
Phelps drew his pistol and shot. A weird blurry ripple caught the bullet out of thin air; it dropped on the floor as if it had been crushed. He fired three other rounds. Holling smiled as he heard the detonations. The weapon was pulled out of the director's hand. A feminine silhouette wearing a red suit appeared in front of him, grabbing him by the neck. She was a lot swifter than him and wearing some kind of exoskeleton that made it easy for her to lift him from the ground. The billionaire turned around and said, before leaving:
- Get rid of him, Artemis. Try not to make a mess. I have important guests coming over tomorrow.
The last thing Phelps saw was the empty eyes of the woman through her visor as she was choking him to death.
The four walls of his room were like a prison. He did not know what to do and letting go of his rage would not help in any way. Scott paced around. He was anxious and worried, unable to make up his mind about what to do next. Questioning Mei about Kayo's whereabouts might be a start.
Sitting down on his bed, he called Doctor Chang. She picked up.
- Doctor Chang here.
- Mei, it's Scott. I have to speak to you.
Her voice was sweet. She sounded unaware of what had befallen the Tracys up until now.
- How may I help, Scott? Is something wrong?
His voice changed. He was getting more aggressive.
- Where is Kayo?
- She should be back at your place by now… why?
- Obviously, she's not! Why'd you think I'd call you otherwise? It's time you told me what is happening.
- Scott, calm down. She was heading for Newcastle last time I checked. Did you try to get in touch with them?
- Yes. And they told me she was dead. Our intel showed that she was taken to the airport.
Mei frowned. She did not understand what was happening. She made herself reassuring.
- Let me get in touch with the facility, Scott. I'll keep you informed about what I find. Meanwhile, don't worry. I'm certain there is a rational explanation for this. She was probably escorted back. I will call once I've found out more.
As soon as the conversation came to an end, the elder rushed towards the living room but bumped into Lady Penelope. She was as startled as he was, taking a minute to catch their breath. She wanted to address him but he walked around her. She turned towards him.
- Scott, where are you going?
He stopped to answer.
- Newcastle, you got a problem with that?
- Still rushing, I see. Other than the surveillance cameras, do you have a lead?
He did not answer. She crossed her arms.
- You clearly know better than to stir up trouble, don't you?
- I can't remain here and do nothing! I have to question these people. There is clearly something going on there…
- And I might have an idea of what. Will you take your time and listen?
Her tone of voice was stern and grave. Whenever Lady Penelope looked at someone as she was now, it did not bode well. There was something amiss. He piped down, taking a deep breath.
- Yes… yes, I will listen…
- Good. First, I need to have access to Tracy Industries' financial records of the last seven years.
He frowned.
- What does it have to do with Kayo?
- Don't interrupt, please. While doing my research, prior to my surprise visit to Bereznik, I uncovered some very interesting information. A list of names, contributors to various projects of Holling. Your father's name was on that list. Did he ever tell you about his investments?
- Not to my knowledge. When did that occur?
- About five years ago. It was a rather sizeable sum, this is why I am asking.
- Why would my father have anything to do with Marcus Holling? I doubt it, surely someone else has donated the money and used his name. Are you sure it is not the Hood's doing?
- This is what I want to find out with your help.
He nodded and went towards the living room. To connect to the company's server, he had to go through the highest level of biometric security. Scott's access was the same as his father's, full access, so authentication to the server took a good five minutes. Once he was in, all the various reports were accessible. He searched and found the entry Penelope had spoken of. He could not believe it. To make sure it was genuine, he accessed check's RF imprint, the signature, the biometric security used to access the money through the bank and the name of the recipient. It turned out to be Holling Military.
- What is the meaning of this? I thought father stopped backing military projects years ago! He was concentrating on International Rescue! Why? This has to be a fraud!
Penelope looked at the screen.
- Through donations, he can hope to save on taxes. Since International Rescue is a private project, he might have realized his investments were becoming a burden, this is why he decided to help back public projects through which he would receive a tax exemption. And that is a very large sum of money, which could have given him an even greater tax break.
- But… I don't get it. Why didn't he speak to us about this?
- He certainly did not plan on disappearing out of the blue. Of course, it was something he might have wanted to consider: businessmen are a choice target for crooks like the Hood.
A thought struck Scott's mind. He turned towards Penelope, worried.
- You think… they might have taken Kayo hostage?
- We cannot exclude any possibility. Right now, time is not on our side. We have to find out what Olympus will do once it is fully active. With the war out there, one might think that it will be used as some kind of base of operation. Those are only hypothesis but maybe she is being taken there.
The elder grabbed his head between his hands.
- What do we do now?
- You don't rush to Newcastle, that is the first thing. Then, you might want to help me check on the other reports I obtained of Holling's trial. There is definitely information in this file that we overlooked. Calm down, if they intend on using her as leverage, they will not harm her.
He nodded and logged off, following Lady Penelope to her room where she and Zeta had set up tables with computers. Gordon was sitting on the bed, reading on a tablet computer. He smirked.
- Gordo, when was the last time I saw you so studious?
The aquanaut rose his head.
- Wh… What? Oh, hum… Hey, Scott! I'm lending a hand here. Don't bother me.
Zeta smiled and replied in a sarcastic tone:
- In between two episodes of Buddy Pendergast's adventures, he did read two lines.
This brought a smile on Scott's face. It felt good to smile, to have hope. His short interlude was interrupted by a phone call. It was Doctor Chang.
- Scott, you were right. Something is wrong. I just logged into Newcastle and could not find her medical file. I swear I sent her there to have the best of care.
This time, she was calling using her computer. Scott could see the background and hear loud banging. Construction workers were working as she moved her computer away from the noise. He caught a glimpse of a logo in the back and the name "Pacific Islands Medical Association". He went on.
- Whatever happened in that place I can't just ignore! Why did you send her there? Did you know this facility?
- I did! It was not the first time I have sent a patient there. They receive the best of care each time. I don't understand…
- Find her! Or I'm going there myself and checking on the place. And I'm telling you, this won't end well.
- Calm down, Scott. I will make it there first light tomorrow and speak directly to the doctor in charge. Don't misunderstand, I don't want you to create a mess of things but I can handle this, trust me…
Zeta was watching the feed. She seemed to have noticed the logo too. She cut Mei in mid-sentence.
- What's the name of that Doctor? Maybe we can get through to him quicker.
Mei was a bit irritated and it showed. Her voice was louder.
- Do not interfere. I can handle this. Trust me! This is all I am asking! I will speak to you soon.
She disconnected. Zeta had revered to her computer. She typed in a search and results came in; she said:
- She knows something.
The elder turned towards the Slavic agent.
- What?
- That logo. The acronym PIMA, it's part of Medira Pharmaceutical Research sister company to Holling Pharmaceutical.
He turned towards Penelope who was watching Zeta's screen.
- Is this true?
The aristocrat answered, worried.
- Yes. And the man responsible for that division is Frederic Hanse.
Zeta turned towards Scott.
- Chronos was right. Your friend might have been made a god.