The Virus (5 page)

He stepped briskly toward
the glass case that housed one of the special satellite phones used
to contact help in situations like this, but before he could reach
it, one of the other scientists spoke up in the first harsh tone
Geoffrey had heard (outside of Mr. Reynolds’s, of course) since he
first got to the station.

“And just what do you think
you’re doing, Son?” the scientist asked, coldly.

“I’m calling for help,”
answered Geoffrey, as professionally as he could. He was already
seething at the fact that either these people had mistaken him for
a liar, or didn’t have enough balls between them to consider
anything other than their own precious careers. He didn’t want to
add to the mess that was already on everyone’s hands.

“Yeah, I
can see that, but if you know how to call for help, then you know
damn well that an
intern,
” the scientist laid great
emphasis upon the word, “shouldn’t be calling for help unless none
of the scientists are able to do so themselves.”

Of course Geoffrey knew as
much. He also knew that the scientist speaking to him so roughly
knew what Geoffrey was doing before he asked, mainly because he
(Geoffrey) had just told everyone what he was going to do before he
stood from his seat. Geoffrey stood with his back to the group and
his face to the phone in the glass case. He hadn’t moved an inch
from where he stopped when Benjamin, the other scientist, spoke to
him. He wanted badly to turn upon his superiors, to yell at them
that he was forced to make the call precisely because
they
were unable to do
so themselves, because they were all spineless cowards. He wanted
to scream at them that a man—an incredibly pretentious man, albeit,
but a man nonetheless—was unconscious on a stainless steel table in
the middle of the room and they, a bunch of supposedly
professional, grown-ass men and women, were too concerned with
their reputations to even let someone know, but Geoffrey knew that,
as right and just as it may feel to lash out, it would do
absolutely no good at all.

Instead, he took a deep
breath. “Well, would one of you call please?” he asked between
painfully clenched teeth, still not bothering to turn to face the
others. “
I’ll
take the heat.” He knew that the gesture would be insulting,
but he couldn’t resist at least a little defiance.

“Yeah,
intern,
” same emphasis, “we’ll do
that, but in the meantime, you can just have yourself a
seat.”

Geoffrey took another deep
breath and returned to his chair. Benjamin glared at him for a few
long moments and then rose to his feet to retrieve the phone. He
got to the glass case, lighted a hand upon the knob, and stopped.
“And you’re right, you
will
take the heat for it.” he snarled, before making
the call.

Everyone was tense as they
waited for the helicopter to arrive. Benjamin reassigned shiftsso
that someone would always be present with Mr. Reynolds. Geoffrey
was not included. Nearly as offensive to the scientists as the fact
that they may be jeopardizing themselves by phoning home base for a
potential false alarm, was the fact that it may get out that a
lousy intern was the only one with enough guts to do the right
thing should this turn out
not
to be a false alarm. To avoid that happening,
they were fully prepared to discredit Geoffrey in any way they
could when the time came. They would draw attention to the fact
that he was alone with Mr. Reynolds when he became
unconscious—highly suspicious—and that the crazy story he gave them
upon their arrival only heightened that suspicion.

But how would they explain
the fragment, and that it was Geoffrey—the lousy intern—who had
initially noticed it in the first place? No one wanted to think
about that. They would just have to cross that bridge when they
came to it. Meanwhile, the normal observations of the sky continued
as everyone waited for the helicopter, and, as he had expected,
Geoffrey was assigned to only the most tedious tasks; jotting down
the most meticulous and redundant findings, fetching coffee, etc.
Meanwhile, no one discussed or otherwise drew attention to the
fragment that was still glowing in the distance. The scientists all
agreed that they would tend to
that
once Geoffrey and Mr. Reynolds were long gone.
Perhaps, they’d even figure out a way to guide this latest turn of
events to work in their favor.

Things went on like this
until a couple of hours before the helicopter was scheduled to
touch down. There were no brightly-lit helipads around, and the all
but completely snow and ice covered research station didn’t stand
out from the rest of the white Antarctic desert enough for a high
flying air craft to see it clearly, especially in the current six
month darkness, so protocol was for diesel fuel filled barrels to
be lit in rows as a makeshift runway. Geoffrey was assigned most of
work (as he had also anticipated) and within hours, he and Mr.
Reynolds were airlifted away from the station and to a more
clinically suitable facility, where he was extensively questioned
and studied. Initially, Mr. Reynolds was going to be taken to a
hospital facility in what looked like a heavily-guarded military
base, and Geoffrey was to be taken elsewhere, but he insisted that
he be taken wherever Mr. Reynolds was so that he could be there
when his superior awoke or he assured his rescuers that he wouldn’t
answer a single question.

It wasn’t that he had
suddenly grown a heartfelt affection for the scientist, or even
that he was trying to be obstinate. Rather, he knew what story the
other astronomers were likely spreading about him, that he had
possibly done something untoward to Mr. Reynolds that had resulted
in him ending up unconscious. Geoffrey wanted to be there when Mr.
Reynolds awoke (assuming that he
would
eventually awake) so he could
hear his name cleared of foul play with his own ears. Otherwise,
his fledgling career may not be all he would stand to lose. The
official-looking men in the helicopter were in no mood to have
demands leveraged upon them by the likes of a simple intern, but
they acquiesced. The gravity of this action was not lost upon
Geoffrey.

Even though he had raised
the protest convincingly enough, a large part of him didn’t expect
to be taken seriously. He was almost certain that he would have to
throw his father’s name around a little (and even then, he didn’t
know if he expected much) and honestly, he was struck nearly dumb
that his demands were met so quickly and with such little
opposition. He understood that if the other scientists had
implicated him in an assault on one of the most prominent
astronomers of modern times, he could be held legally, even against
his will, and possibly indefinitely, pending questioning of a very
different kind.

And he was right. However,
as the helicopter landed and he and Mr. Reynolds were both handed
over to a small group of men that were even more officially dressed
than the others, it became apparent that he was not going to be
treated like a criminal, but rather, like royalty. Sort of. As the
chopper approached the ground, he could see that a large rolling
bed was waiting for Mr. Reynolds. The scientist was carefully
carted off and Geoffrey was asked to have a seat in a plush,
ultra-modern looking wheelchair that was waiting for him. Behind
the wheelchair stood a formidable looking who was at least a foot
taller than the rest of the men surrounding him, and was dressed
head to foot in army fatigues. Geoffrey rightly assumed that this
was the leader of the group. “I can walk on my own. I don’t need
any help.” Geoffrey assured this towering battlefield brawler. His
mouth was suddenly very dry. “Thank you.”

The guy, apparently not
hearing anything Geoffrey just said, took the opportunity to
introduce himself. “My name is
Lieutenant
General Daniel Brimmers
.” The man extended
a powerfully large right hand.

Geoffrey extended his own
hand for the greeting shake and found that it was completely
swallowed up, and nearly crushed in the other’s awesome grip.
Looking up into the lieutenant general’s benevolently smiling face,
it was clear that the man was not even applying a fraction of his
full strength. Once the handshake was over and Geoffrey’s hand had
been released, he let it drop to his side but brought his other
hand to it, trying to rub the soreness out of it (and perhaps make
sure all the bones were still intact), as inconspicuously as
possible. The faint smiles lighting the faces of the lieutenant
general’s men suggested he wasn’t doing a good job with the
inconspicuous part.

“Now, Mr. Summons,” the
skyscraping lieutenant general resumed, “if you will have a seat, I
will see to it personally that your stay here is as comfortable as
possible.”

Lieutenant General
Brimmer’s voice was deep like the guttural bellow of an earthquake,
and Geoffrey wouldn’t have been surprised if the helicopter behind
him would have folded up its wings and fallen over out of sheer
terror, had he commanded. If that wasn’t enough, the man’s natural
appearance demanded at least as much respect as the sound of his
voice. It was obvious that he was well over 6 feet tall and, even
beneath thick layers of green and black fatigue gear, it was also
obvious that he was all muscle. The lieutenant general’s muscle
structure wasn’t the refined muscle that Geoffrey imagined he would
find on a gymnast or a runner. No, the lieutenant general was all
bulk. He imagined a lean Hulk in army fatigues…then the monster of
a man that would eat that Hulk and steal his clothes and that was
Lieutenant General Daniel Brimmers.

The lieutenant general’s
jaw muscles were set squarely, pushing out against the taut skin of
his face like they were made of solid stone. His neck was the stump
of an oak tree covered in human flesh and his hands, well, Geoffrey
already had more experience with those than he would’ve liked to.
But for all his brutishly terrifying attributes, the lieutenant
general was as kind to Geoffrey as an old friend. Geoffrey didn’t
know if the guy had heard him say that he could very well walk, but
after that handshake, and a better look at his
 
physique
,
he sat in the wheelchair without further
protest.

“Thank
you, Mr. Summons,” said the lieutenant general, as he wheeled the
chair around as easily as if it was still empty. The men from the
chopper returned to the aircraft without a word. Lieutenant General
Brimmer’s men regrouped around him and Geoffrey seamlessly as they
marched down a narrow, paved walkway toward a large brick building
with heavily-shaded windows. It would appear Mr. Reynolds had
already been wheeled away, in the same direction. Geoffrey strained
to see
anything
of the place around him, but the platoon of men surrounding
him, though not nearly as formidable as the ole’ lieutenant general
there, were doing a damn good job of blocking his view. The thought
that they were purposely blocking him, that he wasn’t
supposed
to see a lot,
didn’t escape him either.

From what he could see
around or over the heads of the men, there were tall buildings
everywhere and all of them looked exactly like the one into which
he was being wheeled. When his convoy was nearly to the entrance of
the closest building, he ventured to ask a question. He had to
clear his throat twice before he could gather the nerve to post an
inquiry to the beast of a man behind him. “Lieutenant General?”
asked Geoffrey, suddenly sorry that he was here.

Just as before, the
lieutenant general’s voice was teeth clatteringly sonorous, but his
tone was nonthreatening, perhaps even compassionate, as he
answered, “My men call me Lieutenant Dan, you may refer to me as
such if it would make you more comfortable.” Oddly enough, Geoffrey
thought that it would. It just felt safer to think of the
lieutenant general as the legless war veteran who had softened a
little as Forrest Gump’s first mate, as opposed to the brute
mammoth who could easily snap his body in half at the slightest
inclination.

“All right… Lieutenant Dan,
c-can I ask a question?”

Geoffrey couldn’t see
Lieutenant Dan, but his voice, still as unnerving as an oncoming
train, sounded shocked, as he answered, “Of
course
you can, Mr.
Summons.”

“Am I going to wherever
they’ve taken Mr. Reynolds?”

“Yes, you are, Mr.
Summons.” Answered Lieutenant Dan, matter-of–factly, “My men on the
chopper alerted me to some of the…suggestions you offered, and
arrangements have been made for you to be in close proximity to Mr.
Reynolds. Is there anything else you would like to know, Mr.
Summons?” The question, at least to Geoffrey’s ears anyway, sounded
more like a warning than a genuine inquiry.

“No, thank you. Thank you,
very much.” Geoffrey lied.

Lieutenant Dan brought the
wheelchair and the surrounding convoy to a halt about thirty-five
feet from the door of the building as he talked with Geoffrey. Now,
he made a nearly imperceptible gesture with his head and one of his
men pulled what looked like a small radio transistor from his
pocket and hit a series of buttons. All this was done behind
Geoffrey’s wheelchair so he didn’t see it. What he did see,
however, was a marvel of engineering. There came a soft hissing
from somewhere on the ground, then the entire concrete walkway
leading up to the front door of the building before him, as well as
a couple feet of turf on either side, began to move. Geoffrey was
sure that he was seeing things, but it was difficult for his brain
to decide what he was seeing. His frame of reference was off. At
first it looked like the ground, except for the sliver of walkway
and earth directly before him, was rising. It wasn’t until widening
slivers of light from beneath the turf began illuminating the
walkway that he realized that about an 8-by-30 foot section of
concrete and earth before him was sinking.