Murder Inc.: A Sci-fi Thriller: Book 1 (29 page)

By Tuesday afternoon, the first threads of exhaustion had begun to creep into Tabby’s mental awareness. Information overload was an understatement. Worst of all, Charlie’s funeral had been that afternoon, and she had not been permitted to attend. Neither had Tom. It had pushed Tabby to the edge, bringing her closer to tears than anything since her mother had died. As Charlie’s next of kin, Samantha had sent them a message that morning informing them the funeral would be a family affair. Many of Charlie’s colleagues were upset with the decision, so they quickly planned a gathering after lunch with snacks and drinks to bid their own farewell.

Tom had called her at forty minutes past two and suggested she join him in the level twenty-eight conference room. There were tears—though Tabby shed none—stories and smiles and laughter. She learned Charlie's popularity wasn't limited to her. Even a sprinkling of the IT crew, who did not traditionally affiliate themselves to any employees, made an appearance. She found Tom sitting alone at the far end of the long table. Platters of fruit and hydrated cakes sat like tiny islands, along with jugs of water and pre-poured eco-cups. Tabby took him a piece of cake, but he declined. She had never seen him so somber.

Tom stared at her, a thin reflective smile. “How much do you miss him?”

She let out a deep sigh. “A lot. I already miss his laughter and his ‘nothing’s a problem’ attitude. You?”

“Same. And we were in this together. I feel like I’ve lost my partner. I keep walking up and down the halls expecting to see him. I have to remind myself he’s never coming back.”

They sat in cold silence for a time, watching the others talking amongst themselves while sharing cake and soda.

“You’re cleared to start,” Tom said. “All the detailed background checks the company usually runs are fine.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess. I didn’t know everything was so formal.”

“It is. More than you know. Your DNA has been given to every hospital in the country. You’ll be given priority if you ever need it—access to any new treatments, and…” He gave her an odd look. “Protection from other things.”

“Protection?”

Tom shook his head. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

Tabby shifted her position to face him. “When? When am I going to find out what the company does, Tom? When am I going to learn the terrible things Charlie told me about? I want to know if Charlie was murdered. I didn’t do all of this for a career change. I want to find out what the hell was going on here and do something about it.”

Tom sat forward, looking animated for the first time. “Keep your voice down. Bringing you onto the payroll was as much for your protection as anything else,” he said in a low, assertive tone. “Don’t you understand that?”

“Yes… no. I still don’t know what the company is about so I can’t say how much I actually believe that. Terrible things, as Charlie put it. Why can’t you just tell me?”

Tom sat motionless, surveying the room, weighing up who might hear him. “Don’t react, okay? Just sit there and take it in. I’ll tell you briefly, but hold your questions until the briefing.”

“What briefing?”

“Fox is deciding when to sit you down and divulge everything. Jennings is fighting it, though. There’s a process the new executives usually go through, but Fox has waived it. He wants you to know now. I suspect he thinks Jennings is going to move against him soon, and he wants to make sure you’re fully indoctrinated before that happens.”

“So tell me,” Tabby said. “I’m ready. I want to know it all.”

Tom looked at her and she read pity on his handsome features. “This will change everything, Tabby. You’ll never see another person on this planet in the same way again. You’ll walk around wearing this invisible burden of knowing something that ninety-nine point nine percent of the population in the world is oblivious to. And the truth is that most of them couldn’t handle it.”

“I’ll be okay. I can handle it.”

“Are you sure you can—no, are you certain you want to know the truth? Is it in your bones that you have to know? It’s not too late to pull out. I could make a false recommendation to Jennings that you won’t be able to keep the secret.”

He sounded ominous. Could it really be so bad? But she was inquisitive by nature, curious as to how things worked. Knowing was part of her DNA. “No. Tell me, please. I need to know. For Charlie—to understand why he died, at the very least.”

Tom nodded and squared his eyes on her. He removed a device from inside his jacket—similar to a handwriting pen, but stouter. He pressed a button on top. It vibrated, and the bottom third began to glow.

“What’s that?”

“A sound nullifier. It will reduce the volume of our voices so nobody outside the sphere of this area can hear us.”

“Really?”

“You don’t know half of it.” He took a deep breath and let it out. She sensed the importance of what he was about to say and stiffened for the outcome. “The Company’s principle function is not financial investments, Tabitha. It’s population control. We control the world’s population.”

Tabby’s face pinched with confusion. “Population control?” she shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

“Janefield creates death. The terrible things to which Charlie was referring were the deaths of innocent citizens.”

Tom watched her, waiting for a reaction. A cold chill touched her neck. “What the fuck are you talking about, Tom?” He put a hand up. “That is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah? We all say that in the beginning.”

“Murdering people? Do you know how bizarre that sounds?”

Tom nodded. “I do, believe me. But let me explain.” He sat forward and toned down his voice. “The global economy is stuffed, right?” Tabby nodded. “Has been for years. Too many poor people, not enough jobs. But it could be worse. If everybody on earth was allowed to live as long as medicinal and technological advancements allowed, we simply couldn't all fit on the planet. Not only would space be an issue, but so to would the resources, and there wouldn’t be enough money to support those who couldn’t work at such an old age. Janefield exists to keep the numbers down to a manageable level.” He reached out and took a drink of water from the table.

Tabby fell back into her seat, mouth open. “But… that’s crazy.”

He sipped the water and placed it back down. “Not quite. Back in the early part of the century, most governments realized the population growth was accelerating at an unsustainable rate, and that eventually the earth wouldn’t be able to sustain its inhabitants. Some countries tried employing techniques to reduce their numbers as the Chinese had in the twentieth century, but most failed. The Chinese actually went the other way, lifting their birth restrictions. With their growing wealth, they realized they now had the internal requirements to fund their own existence, and the larger they grew, the more wealthy and powerful they became.”

“So we basically had too many people living on earth?”

“It was heading that way. Between 2020 and 2040, the population barely grew. The world blamed the stunted growth on all sorts of different reasons, but it was the company that caused it. There’s a theory called ‘carrying capacity’. It can apply to animals or humans or anything really, but in this case, it’s simply the number of people the earth can support without substantial negative impact on people and the environment.”

Tabby shifted in her seat, turning to face Tom, and leaned forward again. It felt like a giant weight pressing down on her mind, almost too much to comprehend. “So what are you actually saying is that if the company didn’t exist, people would live longer?”

Tom took a slice of pineapple from one of the plates and chased it down with water. Tabitha couldn’t believe how calm he was. Her heart was racing, her stomach churning.

“Yes, but their quality of life would be inferior,” Tom said.

“Inferior as in…”

“As it stands now, those who survive live a reasonable quality of life.”

“Ah, in case you haven’t checked lately, life for the masses is quite difficult. There’s more poverty—”

“Yes, but it would be much worse if the company didn’t exist.”

“And this… sort of control exists all over the world?”

Tom opened his palms. “You have no idea. This division is one of many, a leaf on the global tree.”

Tabby felt the rush of questions pressing her head to escape. She wondered what Gutterson, the NYPD detective, would say.

“I’ve kind of dropped it on you, I’m sorry, but you asked for it. The disclosure is normally more subtle, and staggered, so it’s not overwhelming.”

“But how can that sort of secret remain… a secret?”

Tom gave a big sigh. “Very few people actually know what goes on. The price for talking is heavy. Just ask Charlie.”

Had Charlie talked? Is that what had gotten him killed? It seemed a stretch to believe it all, but his points corresponded with facts in history. There was a terrible Ebola outbreak in 2019. And the population growth had been stagnating since about then. Yes, there were a hundred theories, and a network of people across the globe murdering citizens randomly might not have been the most outlandish of them all.

“It’s the all-time greatest conspiracy that mankind has ever known.”

“Sort of like the Illuminati or some of those other crazy conspiracy theories out there?”

“Those things keep the spotlight off us. We work to keep them relevant.”

Tabby fell back into the chair again. “How did this even happen?”

“Necessity. Scientists would argue it’s simply a natural regulation of the carrying capacity. Once the numbers get too high, natural factors tend to take over—lack of food, space, maybe water. In our case, it was human intervention.”

“That’s not natural, though.”

“Ah, but some would argue it is. Humans are the primary organism in the environment. Is it any different to the weakest male being removed from a pride of lions? Or—”

“It’s murder. That’s what it is.”

“I don’t disagree.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, though.”

“I’ve had two years to justify it to myself.”

“Still sounds like you’re trying to defend murder.”

Tom shrugged. “Maybe. But Charlie and I couldn’t do it anymore. Yeah, we spent two years here, but most have been here far longer.” Tom sat forward and folded his hands together. “While I don't want any part of it anymore, the truth is, I’m not sure the other option is any better. Maybe that’s how I’ve lived with it for so long. If the Company didn’t exist, more people would live, but the quality of life for those that remained would be inferior. It’s a sacrifice.”

“Ah, two of my favorite people.” Jennings approached with a glass in hand, smiling. “Catching up on old times?”

Tabby repressed the urge to ask Jennings about the funeral. Somehow, she thought he might find satisfaction in neither of them—Charlie’s real friends—not being there.

“Yeah,” Tom said, bowing his head. “Just swapping stories.” He smiled and stood. “Been at it a while, though. Time to get back to work.”

Jennings feigned disappointment. “Don’t leave on my account.”

Tom laughed. “No, no. I promised to run Tabby through the chargeback process.”

“Ok. Sure,” Jennings said. “Maybe we’ll catch up later and run through some of the better performing accounts. I’d like to know how we can transfer that sort of success to other clients.”

Tom waved Tabby after him and they left the conference room amidst the drone of chatter. As they walked to the elevator, Tom pressed a finger to his lips. He took the pen device from his pocket and depressed the button on top. The glow disappeared.

In the elevator, they stood aside, Tom with his hands behind his back, Tabby resisting the urge to fire more questions at him. She thought about Detective Gutterson again. He was investigating a murder. With this, he’d be investigating the whole company… it was incomprehensible.

She tried to simplify what Tom had said: an organization that killed people to keep the population balanced, providing a better quality of life for those who remained behind. The very thought was horrific and made her feel sick.

They reached level twenty-eight. The doors slid open, and Tom waited for her to exit first. She did, but couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “If what you say is true, do you realize we’re all part of—”

He put up the palm of his hand and withdrew the gadget from his pocket, depressing the button again. “Walk with me.” She did.

“This is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard,” Tabby said. “And I can’t believe I’m entertaining the idea… but… explain to me how it works. What does the Company get for all of this?”

Tom stopped and glanced both ways along the walkway. “Money. And loads of it. More than you could imagine. Your salary, car, and bonuses are just the beginning.” He started off again. “In here.”

They reached Tabitha’s office and Tom entered almost too quickly, the doors parting an instant before his nose hit the glass. He sat in an armchair and Tabby sat opposite him, not yet comfortable sitting behind the desk.