Linkage: The Narrows of Time (15 page)

“How are we supposed to get past the
roadblocks? The military’s never going to let us through,” Lucas
said.

“I’ll figure something out and let you know
in the morning.”

Chapter
12

Monday, December 24

6:33 AM

Lucas was sleeping across the bedroom from
his brother when the wall phone rang, waking him up from a deep
sleep. He heard Drew rustling around in his bed a few feet
away.

“Who the hell is calling us this early?”
Lucas asked in a rusty voice. “It better not be another one of
those damn political polls.”

He stumbled in the dark to the main room and
lifted the phone’s receiver. He intended to be rude to the caller,
but changed his mind at the last second. “Lucas speaking.”

“Hey, it’s DL. I don’t have time to explain,
but the meeting’s been changed to seven a.m. I’ve already sent a
car to get you. It’ll be there shortly. Make sure you bring Trevor
along. Understood?”

“Got it, sir, see you then,” Lucas replied,
before hearing Kleezebee hang up. He did the same and walked to the
refrigerator, which was just outside the door to their bedroom.

He shouted, “Drew, get your ass up.
Kleezebee’s changed the meeting to seven o’clock.”

He picked up the broom next to the fridge,
walked to the center of the main room, rammed it into the ceiling
three times to call Trevor. He put the broom away, opened the
fridge, and grabbed a can of grape soda sitting on the top shelf.
He tapped the top of the can with his finger five times, before
popping the tab. Three gulps later, the can was empty.

“Nectar of the gods,” he said after letting
out a thunderous belch that rattled his throat.

“Nice one,” Drew said, cruising into the
room. “Do you know why they changed the meeting?”

“Nope, not a clue,” Lucas said, tossing the
aluminum can in the recycle bin. “Where’s that notebook?”

“It’s on the desk, right where you left it
last night.”

Lucas slid the red and blue spiral notebook
into Drew’s backpack and began to wonder what might explain the
sudden change in Kleezebee’s plan. He half expected the police to
come crashing through the door and arrest him for mass murder. Then
he shook his head and told himself he was overreacting. Kleezebee
probably had other things to do today and simply moved the meeting
up two hours to accommodate his schedule.

Lucas quickly dressed and sat down on the
couch to wait for his brother. He powered on the TV and changed the
channel to one of the network news stations. There was an
African-American female correspondent standing in a crowded parking
lot filled with emergency vehicles. Superimposed across the bottom
of the screen was the phrase
NORTH HANOVER, NJ
LEVELED. MCGUIRE AFB SPARED
.

The broadcast switched to an overhead feed
from a helicopter, which showed a familiar-looking groove of black
destruction several blocks long that cut through the heart of the
city.

“Ah, shit,” Lucas said, watching a group of
firefighters wandering around the scene. “Hey Drew, looks like
there was another energy dome reported.”

“In Tucson?”

“No, someplace in New Jersey, thank God.”

Drew came cruising into the main room. His
right wheel slammed into the side of the couch next to Lucas. “Was
anyone hurt?”

“Looks like it. The dome took out a small
town.”

“Did you see any black residue?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s there.”

“I wonder why it moved to New Jersey?”

“Who knows, I’m just glad it’s not here,”
Lucas answered. “You ready to go?”

Drew nodded, right before Trevor knocked on
the door. The three of them went down to the first floor to wait
for Kleezebee’s driver. They were just outside the main entrance,
next to the manager’s office, when a four-door sedan picked them up
for their ten-minute commute to the science lab.

They traveled south toward the cordoned off
university and used the driver’s credentials to pass through the
north checkpoint. Military troops had set up roadblocks and
checkpoints to limit access to campus while forensic investigations
continued. The driver pulled up to the front of the science lab to
drop them off. Inside, they met up with Bruno, who was guarding the
security entrance along with two of his staff.

“Dr. Lucas, I’m to escort you to NASA’s
security station. There are several people waiting for you. DL said
he’ll meet you there.”

Lucas had never been within fifty yards of
NASA’s section of the building. He had often wondered what stealthy
projects were underway, but never dreamed he would actually have
the opportunity to walk the halls of the top-secret wing. Despite
his exhilaration, he forced himself to remain calm. The meeting’s
new location meant the situation had escalated, and he had better
be prepared. NASA would never have granted them access unless the
circumstances left them with no other choice.

They made their way past their own lab and
continued on to NASA’s checkpoint. Bruno shook each of their hands
and said, “Good luck today. I need to return to my station before
my guys run amuck. Hopefully, DL will allow me to send them home
soon.”

After Bruno left, a two-man crew of armed MPs
frisked Lucas, and then they searched Trevor and Drew, before
instructing the scientists to go through the scanning equipment.
Lucas walked through first, holding his breath. He hated these
things; always feeling like his organs were being irradiated. No
alarms sounded and he was cleared for entry. A guard handed him a
NASA visitor’s badge, which he clipped to his shirt pocket.

Trevor picked up Drew and carried him through
the two screening devices. Once again, the security devices
remained silent. Trevor put Drew back in his chair and the guards
handed them visitor badges to wear as well.

They were escorted through two connecting
hallways before stopping in front of a metal-grated freight
elevator. Lucas knew there was only one reason for the single-story
building to have an elevator. They were about to travel
underground. He boarded the lift and stood with the small of his
back pressing up against the rear handrail. Lucas could smell the
lingering odor of a cigar; Kleezebee must have ridden the elevator
recently.

One of the four guards pressed the control
panel’s bottom-most button illuminating the number 20. As the lift
descended, Lucas thought about NASA’s lengthy ten-year construction
period. There was plenty of gossip floating around campus, but
nobody seemed to know the reason it took so long. Now he knew:
Building a secret, twenty-story subterranean bunker directly under
campus was an impressive feat. It also corroborated the rumor that
secret, underground tests were being run, which had shaken their
lab like a bartender finishing a James Bond martini. He wondered if
Kleezebee had known what was happening right under their feet,
possibly damaging the science lab’s foundation and putting all
their lives in jeopardy.

Lucas felt a body-wide flush when they
stepped off the elevator on the 20th floor, and were greeted by
Mary Stinger, Kleezebee’s executive assistant. She had the starring
role in many of his sexual fantasies.

She smiled. “Hello, Dr. Ramsay. I’m to escort
all three of you to the conference room, which is at the far end of
this floor. Please follow me.” She held out her hands in the MPs’
direction. “I’ve got it from here, boys. You may return to the
surface.”

Lucas kept a close eye on Mary as she started
to walk down the hallway. She was wearing a skin-tight skirt that
barely covered her ass. He wondered how she could sit down without
exposing a birds-eye view of her panties, assuming she was wearing
any. She swayed her hips with purpose, walking with a distinct
bounce in her step, as if she were strutting down the runway at
some New York fashion show. He listened to the rhythmic clatter of
her six-inch heels smacking the cement floor, which, when combined
with the metronome-like stride of her tan legs, was almost
hypnotizing. He would gladly follow her anywhere.

* * *

Drew waited for his brother to step in front
of him to follow behind Mary, knowing that Lucas would appreciate
the priority view of her figure. When he looked back at the MPs
waiting inside the elevator for the doors to close, he realized his
earlier headcount was off by one. He must have been too preoccupied
with other matters to make such a simple mistake. He vowed to
better his concentration.

Drew memorized everything he observed along
the way to the conference room. He tried to peek inside the various
labs they passed, but failed because most of their doors were
closed. Fortunately, on two occasions, he was able to see inside a
room before the door closed behind an entering scientist.

He saw an elderly woman seated behind a desk
inside the first room. She was stirring the contents of a black
coffee mug while leaning forward with her face unusually close to
the computer screen. A pair of glasses hung on a chain in front of
her chest. A row of five-drawer filing cabinets stood watch behind
her, and there were hundreds of shoebox-sized boxes stacked up all
around the room. Each brown box had a red, white, and blue priority
mail sticker on the side.

The second room featured two heavyset men,
maybe Native Americans, judging by their long black hair and dark
skin. They were standing in front of a transparent grease board,
scribbling equations in red-and-blue marker ink. The board was a
good foot taller than they were, and framed in wood with a set of
casters for mobility. Drew could only see a portion of their work,
but recognized it. They were attempting to control virtual protons
in a quantized field, not an easy feat. If he were not expected
elsewhere, he would have stopped to lend a hand.

An overabundance of Marine personnel were
roaming the halls. Drew had not expected such a strong military
presence inside a scientific facility. Granted the military and
NASA were both funded by the Congress and NASA was nominally a
defense agency, it still seemed odd that there appeared to be more
soldiers than scientists.

Drew kept track of their location as they
moved deeper into the facility. He calculated where they were in
relation to their own lab on the ground floor each time they
rounded another corner. He also thought it prudent to memorize the
path back to the elevator. It might just come in handy.

* * *

They arrived at their meeting room five
minutes later. Lucas saw a seating area just to the left of the
conference room’s double doors, with eight fabric-covered chairs
and a glass coffee table sitting between them. Two stacks of
magazines were lying on the table.

“Go ahead and take a seat over there. They’ll
call for you when they’re ready,” Mary said, pointing to the chairs
in the waiting area.

Mary was wearing an official NASA Photo ID
badge, meaning she was not simply a visitor. She had been granted
specific security clearance, and by extension, Kleezebee must
possess it as well. Obviously, there was a lot Lucas didn’t
know.

“Who are we meeting with?” he asked her.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that. But I
can tell you that they’ve been in there for well over an hour and
should be ready for you soon.”

As with every male since the dawn of
humanity, Lucas had been preconditioned to appreciate a beautiful
woman’s appearance. Her silky, orange blouse was unbuttoned deep
below her neckline to expose a sizable portion of her upper
breasts. He snuck several peeks, trying not to appear obvious, but
it was difficult not to stare. Her cleavage was not only
magnificent, but it acted like a magnet for his eyes. It was
apparent that Mary had chosen her ensemble carefully to maximize
her appeal. If Lucas had been a professor, he would have given her
an A+ for presentation.

The three scientists followed Mary’s
instructions and found seats in the waiting area along the wall to
the left of the conference room. Lucas and Drew were next to each
other with Trevor on Lucas’ left. Mary was seated in the chair
directly across from Lucas with her legs crossed lady-like. He was
hoping to get lucky and catch that birds-eye view. He did. They
were sheer pink with lace seams.

Drew whispered to Lucas, “Did you see all the
soldiers on the way here?”

“Yeah, it seemed a bit odd,” Lucas whispered
back, before angling his head in Mary’s direction. “Did you notice
her ID badge?”

“Sure did. This whole thing makes me
nervous.”

“Maybe the Marines have some joint venture
project with NASA? After all, they’re all part of our same
government. It’s probably not the first time they’ve pooled their
resources.”

Drew looked down at his lap and began to rock
back and forth, clutching the leather pouch that hung from his
neck.

Lucas recognized his brother’s familiar
response. Drew was slipping away into his secret, dark place,
trying to conceal himself from reality. He gave his brother a small
hug. “It’s going to be all right, little brother. I’ll take care of
it. I always do.”

“Drew okay? Need help?” Trevor asked
Lucas.

“He’ll be fine. Just give him a few minutes,”
Lucas said. “But thanks for asking. You’re a good friend.”

Lucas turned to face his brother. He hoped
that by interrupting his brother’s ritual, Drew would snap out of
his funk. He nudged him on the shoulder. “Can you hand me the
notebook?”

Drew stopped rocking, unzipped his backpack,
and pulled out the multi-colored notebook they’d brought from the
apartment. He gave it to Lucas. There was a faded purple stain on
the lower half of its cover, next to the torn right edge.

Lucas and Drew had exhausted the evening
hours formulating a number of unorthodox theories regarding the
nature of the energy fields the day before. They knew conventional
thinking was not going to provide them with answers, let alone a
solution.