Surfacing the Rim (Piercing The Fold) (8 page)

Chapter 13

Balthazar

Balthazar walked casually to the doorway. He softly pushed the doors open, careful not to make too much noise. Sebastian was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace.
With his head dropped to his chin and his breath even and steady, he was seemingly asleep.

The fire was burning low, the flame barely alive. Balthazar moved stealthily to the chair adjacent to his father. Eyeing his father, Balthazar slid into the chair, making sure not to wake him. He took this moment to watch Sebastian. He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his temple on his closed fist.

Sebastian’s head lolled to the left. He stirred only long enough to softly rest his head on the back of the chair. Sebastian’s forehead wrinkled with concern.

Balthazar instantly wondered what his father was thinking about and what had him so concerned. The wrinkle disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Sebastian’s mouth slacked open a little and a sigh escaped.

Reading glasses sat low on Sebastian’s long nose. Balthazar touched his own nose, considering the similarities he had to his father. Balthazar closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

When he opened them, he carefully reached for his father’s arm. Balthazar made sure his hand rested softly, not wanting to startle his father.

Balthazar whispered, “Father.”

Sebastian closed his mouth in response to the sound. He blinked quickly, realizing he still had his reading glasses on. He reached down for the book that had slipped through his fingers, resting between his thigh and the chair. As he did so, he noticed Balthazar sitting at his side. Sebastian sat straight up in the chair and removed his glasses. “You left so abruptly last time.”

Balthazar looked from his father to the glowing embers of the fire. He leaned back in the chair. “Yes, I’m sorry. It’s hard to astral project now.”

Sebastian’s wrinkle in his forehead reappeared. “But, how is that? With all of your training with the Copula, you should be able to easily sustain—”

Balthazar’s voice was firm when he interrupted Sebastian. “I don’t have a Copula any longer, Father.”

Sebastian moved toward Balthazar, searching his eyes. He put his hand on his forehead. “Balthazar, what is going on?”

Balthazar proceeded in telling Sebastian what had happened to him.

* * *

I sat in my office chair behind my desk gazing out the window at the low, heavy clouds blanketing London. I picked up the sticky silicon discs attached to wires and placed them on both sides at the nape of my neck. I took the connecting end of the wires and plugged them into the small device that would initiate my travel to Sonde.

The device was the size of a smartphone. The Sondians intentionally created it to look like an average modern day gizmo to conceal its purpose.

Sebastian had created a rudimentary schematic for the device in the files I had taken years ago. I shake my head, briefly reflecting on the visionary my father had been all those years ago.

It wasn’t until I was traversing more frequently that I realized the necessity for a compact computer-like device to assist with the external surge of electricity needed to initiate the Copula’s internal propulsion.

I turned on the small power source. The screen illuminated in the dimly lit office. I punched in the identification code for Sonde’s coordinates and pushed a button to begin the process. The initial surge of electricity was a simple tickle along my neckline, flowing into a steady wave.

My body began to sway in time with the electric wave coursing through me. I gripped the chair to steady my reactive body.

Floating shards of light increased behind my closed eyes. Just then, the pulling began, and my body felt weightless. The negative gravity worked in me through the Copula. Then, a sharp jerk from within my core took over. It felt like I was being towed from my chair by a rope tied tightly around my midsection.

Within seconds, my body was released from the pull, landing onto something soft and cushioned—a sofa. I opened my eyes cautiously. Even though the coordinates had been predetermined, it always made me apprehensive of what I would see. I sighed when I saw a familiar conference table, knowing I was in Sonde.

My eyes focused on a stack of files on the conference table. I quickly looked around the room for others. No one was there. I thought it was strange for someone to leave files unattended. I stood and walked over to the table. My index finger opened the binder that was lying on top of the stack.

It contained executive board minutes. As I flipped through the pages, I noticed they dated back to August 2011. My curiosity was piqued since I had only attended two meetings over the past four months. I quickly noticed that binder contained additional meetings that I had missed.

I reviewed the minutes for August 22, 2011. I was listed as being in attendance.

Michael Sanderson, the board’s vice president, had proposed an alteration to the Copula. The alteration would create a Copula that would use orthomolecular therapy. This would have optimum effects for the specimen’s survival in the changing world.

Another component to the Copula would be needed to contain trace elements, such as copper, titanium, and sulfur, for extended release. The trace elements would be introduced to the body through a small intrathecal pump. The pump would allow an extended release of the elements into the body through the blood stream. These elements would increase life span, stimulate physical energy and strength, and slow the aging process. A catheter attached to the Copula and pump would release the elements into the body. The catheter would be attached to the base of the skull at the cervical spine.

The pump would need to be refilled every two months. Being that the vessels would have already possessed the Copula within their bodies, tracking the levels remaining in the pump and the time for a refill would not be difficult. Repeated abductions of the vessels would be scheduled like clockwork, making sure doses were not missed. The vessels would be obtained without their knowledge, more than likely subduing them with anesthetic. Then, the vessels would be refilled and returned to the last place they were. No harm, no foul.

Or, so they thought. I remembered this warped proposal now. I refused to support it for many reasons. First, the data within the proposal had indicated that the Copula would put the human body—the vessel—at greater risk for mental and physical illness when the body had been depleted of other necessary elements and minerals. Second, there was no threat to provoke this proposed change. And third, the will of the vessels would be taken from them. It would be inhumane.

I turned the page to the minutes from September 12, 2011. I was not in attendance at this meeting. I looked over the content.

Why are they investigating Ezra Kahn and Jesca Gershon-Sera?

I saw that Michael Sanderson had proposed the altered Copula once again to the board without me being there. The board had obviously been wooed by Michael’s reintroduction of the proposal, and they had agreed on the alteration. To top it off, they had discussed phasing me out of executive decisions from that point forward.

It said that I might pose hostility toward the board and its future endeavors.

The bastards. What are they doing?

I looked to the open doorway of the conference room. With quick speed, I rushed to the door, shut it, and locked it. Just as quickly, I was back at the conference table, flipping to the next set of minutes.

The next set occurred on September 30, 2011. I remembered this meeting. I tried to think back to Gary Strider’s request for more funding. Gary had mentioned nothing out of the ordinary at that meeting. Certainly, I knew there was no discussion of alterations to the Copula. Now, seeing the evidence of a mutiny in the minutes, I was feeling ultimately betrayed by the fellowship.

It only got worse. Minutes from October 21, 2011, showed Michael had used his ability of Transfiguration to shift his form. In lucid dreams, Michael had pretended to be me, communicating with guardians around the world that were collecting vessels to be implanted.

Why are average humans being implanted?

As I scanned the document further, I read that Ezra and Jesca had disappeared.

Why are they significant?

I skimmed over the minutes for November 23, 2011. Worldwide, human specimens had been abducted and implanted at a faster rate. They had not been willing participants, which was against what I had always practiced. They had been taken against their will.

Why?

December 20, 2011, minutes showed more details of how these abducted human specimens had been reacting to the implant. At first, their bodies had been fine with the higher levels of copper, titanium, and sulfur introduced into their bodies. Suddenly, strange psychological symptoms of catatonia, hostility, hallucinations, and schizophrenia had become prominent in the specimens. Medical departments had opened globally, employing Sondian medical staff to contain these specimens. Some of the locations were Kyoto University in Japan, Australian National University, MIT, University of Cambridge, and Florida State University.

I noticed Ezra Kahn, Jesca Gershon-Sera, and Nathaniel Sera had infiltrated a specimen collection cell headed by Samson Crest in Miami, Florida.

I remembered taking Sam under my wings when he was young. What sickened me the most was that Sam thought I was giving him these horrific directives when it was Michael Sanderson all along.

I read on. The minutes said that Sam had captured Corinna Cain, and she had been scheduled for re-implantation.

I thought, Cain. I know that name. Maybe a relation to Felix Cain?

I remembered a physicist named Felix Cain visiting my father frequently when I was young.

I quickly flipped to the next page to see when this re-implantation had been scheduled. If I could do anything to stop it, I would.

December 30, 2011—that was today. I quickly skimmed. Apparently, the altered Copula had been adjusted, and throughout the medical department locations at the designated universities, the specimens had been showing significant mental improvement and optimum physical abilities. But, an unknown external force had interrupted the promising specimen results, bringing on bouts of psychosis during weekly evaluations.

The minutes said that David Patel had a team trying to identify the source of this external force. The team suggested the external force had appeared to be coming from the Andromeda galaxy.

I scrolled down, noting the ongoing surveillance of Jesca Gershon-Sera, Nathaniel Sera, and Ezra Kahn in Miami, Florida. I saw another name.

Attempt to contact Alexander Crest.

It showed that Sam would be relocated to a safe house in Tokyo, Japan, where he would train Corinna Cain after re-implantation.

Damn it! When is the re-implantation?

Midway down the page, I read:

Experimental removal of Dobrian Copula and re-implantation of altered Sondian Copula to be performed 12/30/2011. Today.

I stood from the conference table, quickly heading to the door. I threw it open, rushing out of the room. As I rounded the corner, I ran head on into Jim Graffton.

Jim was jolted backward at the force of me coming at him. He steadied himself, grabbing hold of me before he could move farther.

Jim’s voice is urgent, “Balthazar, wait! Where are you going?”

I’m sure my eyes were red with anger as I tried to escape Jim’s death grip. “Let me go, Jim!”

Jim tried to pull me to the ground. I elbowed him and threw him against the wall. I took off in a dead run, heading straight for the operating rooms.

I heard Jim yell from behind me, obviously realizing what I had found. “Shit!” I turned briefly and saw him coming my way.

I pushed through the double doors of the viewing room first. Immediately, I was greeted by two large men blocking the entrance to the operating room. I tried to push through them. I saw a young girl kneeling and bent face down on a surgical table designed for spinal surgery. Her red hair, striking against the white sheet covering the lower half of her body, was pulled to one side, revealing the nape of her neck. Her face was being cradled by the hole in the table.

In a panic to stop what was about to happen, I pounded on the door to distract the surgeons. One quickly looked up from the heart monitor he was observing. It was Michael Sanderson.

I reached for the door, but was lifted from the ground and carried away by multiple men. I kicked and fought, trying to get loose.

I yelled, “Michael! Michael!”

The burly men slammed me down onto a cold surface. My head connected with the metal, causing shards of light to flash before my eyes. James and David came into focus and hovered above me.

A sharp pain shot through my left arm. I looked down to see an IV being inserted into my arm. A warm sensation coursed up my arm and quickly blossomed into a wildfire throughout my body. Slowly, my body began to melt into the cold, hard table.

I tried to speak, but it only came out as long, drawn-out mumbles. I had just enough energy to roll my head in the direction of Corinna.

Michael Sanderson and Gabriel Griffin were beginning the procedure to remove her Copula and I couldn’t do anything about it. Michael took the scalpel in his latex-gloved hand and steadied it on Corinna’s neck. He hesitated only for a moment. Then, he slowly sliced along her nape.