The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (4 page)

Henry’s eyes closed tightly when he felt Frank harshly brush by him. Tilting his head as it laid pressed to the glass, Henry watched Frank walk into Ellen’s room and then stared at the incubator. The name ‘Nicholas Robert Slagel’ burned a painful reality through him.

In need of a good oiling is what George Hadley thought when he hit the third sub-basement level of the lab were the scientists worked. The sound of squeaking wheels and mice filled the long room that looked more like a greenhouse than anything else. “How’s it going?” He approached a worker who watched one cage. Six or seven mice ran rampant inside.

“Good.” He set down his clipboard, took off his black rimmed glasses, and placed them in the pocket of his lab coat. “Almost ready to move on to phase two with these. Should we go ahead?”

“Not yet.” George shook his head. “Can you hold off for a while?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“Good. Walk with me.” George began to lead the shorter, balding man out of the lab. “My contact in Beginnings said they hadn’t heard from Robbie and his merry men. I’m going to assume that Mr. Slagel walked into our little set up, which is good. My contact should let me know as soon as he starts his shift what they heard. My guess is Robbie will tell them what they saw and, knowing Beginnings as well as I do, they won’t let Robbie and the men in until they show no signs of the virus.” He continued to talk as he walked. “Since our squirmy Dr. Hayes has figured out one strain and pin pointed a four or five day incubation period, he’ll safely recommend six days to Mr. Slagel for his men to stay out. Six days will pass with no signs of the virus and once they are in Beginnings, it should hit them.”

“Say something goes wrong?” The doctor asked, “and they get sick perhaps beforehand. Do we move on them then?”

“We have to. They’re a smart bunch.” George shrugged. “But I don’t think they are gonna be smart enough to see this coming. We have to get Beginnings back. We need that communications room and quickly. Too much time has passed and there is a whole another world on the other side of the ocean that is gonna catch up to us technology wise. They’ll be here before we can get to them. We have to start tracking what they’re doing.”

“It’s a scary thought.”

“Not yet. Like us, I don’t think they quite have what it takes to get over here. They’ll get there, but hopefully not before we can gain the technology back and manpower to do so.”

“Maybe if you told Beginnings the reason you need the communication center...”

George scoffed loudly, “They won’t give up their land and they certainly won’t want any part in rebuilding the world that brought them down. They’re happy and content peons in there. Nah, I’d rather wipe it clean and have a fresh start. What the hell, it’s only a hundred or so people, maybe more now. We have more than that being created in biology for workers and that’s not to mention the nice little community building and changing down at Quantico.” He glanced down at the time. “Speaking of those two divisions, I’m heading out to Biology then we’re taking a vehicle down to visit the C.L.B. lab and Dr. Gafsky in Behavioral. They’re making progress. It seems we don’t have the zombies like we used to.”

The little scientist smiled at George. “I did enjoy when they didn’t have thought process.”

“Yeah, I kind of did too.” George moved to the door. “Thanks for your help, Stan.” George nodded. “Don’t forget the department head meeting this evening after dinner.” He started to leave again and stopped, snapping his fingers. “Get Dr. Heinz in Agriculture. I forgot to tell him the change in time. He’s been so wrapped up in the growth formula he knows nothing but seeing how fast he can grow a string bean...” Chuckling some, George moved down the lab. He peered up to the ceiling and the lights that seemingly were brighter by the day. Power. It took what he had--personnel wise--to get the power back up and it was building now. Just like the bulbs above his head in the tunnels that ran below the former White House, George and his world were growing stronger by the day.

In Beginnings uniform--US military stockpile--Greg looked so official as he barked his orders to the men who loaded up the trucks just outside of Boise, Idaho. “Don’t start the vehicles yet.” He marched from the two trucks. “Conservation of gasoline, gentlemen.” Shaking his head at the anxious group, he walked to Robbie who sat on the ground just over the hillside. Greg knew upon his approach to Robbie that his demeanor said more than any words could. Robbie sat against the tree, a knapsack beside him, and the tote bag for the cellular phone in front of him. The radio was nearby. “Robbie. The men are waiting.”

With his knees brought close to his chest, Robbie dropped his arms and let them dangle over his legs. “They’ll have to wait a bit more. I’m uh . . . waiting on a call.” He lifted the phone some.

“What’s wrong?” Greg lowered his body and his voice.

“You saw it, Greg.”

“Yeah, so what’s that got to do with us?”

“That’s the future all those time trips were trying to avoid.”

“I thought of that but Robbie, it’s way out here.”

Robbie gave an emotional chuckle. “Yep, and so are we.”

<><><><>

Called to the communication center for a meeting? Dean thought it odd. Why Joe would need to see him? Actually he would have rather not made the long trip down through the tunnels, but he had to go to the cryo-lab to get some of the files he and Ellen stored there. He needed to start working with her, sick or not and there was a special file he had hidden there that he was bringing to her attention later that evening. There wasn’t much more Dean could do on this day. He needed to be close to Ellen and the baby in case there were any problems. He had Johnny working on antiserums of the virus at the mobile lab and he had all the kids on this evening. Dean headed to the communication center. Joe was the only one there. “Hey Joe.” Dean walked in and set his files down on the counter. “What did you need to show me?” He looked around the center. “Not that I understand this place much.”

“Talk, Dean.” Joe swiveled his chair from the monitor slightly. “I need to talk to you. We’re waiting for Frank and . . .”

“Frank’s here,” Frank announced himself as he walked into the center with heavy steps and a heavier voice. “What’s up?” He saw Dean. “Aw Dad, don’t tell me we’re gonna have to listen to boring Dean stuff?”

“Well, Frank.” Dean sat down. “What I usually have to say is only boring to those who have failed to get past the play dough creativity stage of their lives.”

“Now see.” Frank held out his hand. “You always have to have something smart to say.”

“And you didn’t start it?”

“No,” Frank quipped. “I was observing the situation.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “How can you take him, Joe?”

“A strong imagination, Dean,” Joe told him. “It starts when your children are young. You make them out to be more than they are and, unfortunately, you still find yourself doing it even when they’re old men with gray hair.”

“Hey.” Frank ran his hand over his short black hair. “I’ll have you know I’m not gray or old.”

“Sit down, Frank,” Joe instructed. “We’re waiting for one more. And we wait no more.” Joe smiled. “Henry’s here.”

Henry slowed down as he peered at those in the room. “Hi Joe. Dean.” Henry closed the door to the center. “Frank.” He slowed down his pace and stopped at Frank.

Frank merely crossed his arms, and looked away from Henry. “Start this, Dad.”

Henry lowered his head, moved over by Dean, and sat down then stared blankly at the floor.

Joe stood up. “We have a situation, gentlemen. I brought each of you here to get your expert opinions on how to deal with it.” He swallowed harshly. “It’s eating at me, because my own flesh and blood is involved in this. He’s smack dab in the middle of a major problem.”

Frank’s attention was grasped. “What happened with Robbie?”

“As you know,” Joe said, “we received a communication signal right outside of Boise. Robbie and his men, on their way back from the latest series of runs stopped by to investigate the signal. They encountered an attack. Not a SUT attack but they were hit by savages. Not a problem, a little different than what they were dealing with, but they took them out. Unfortunately, that’s not our problem. Robbie found the basis for the communication signal. A busted radio and . . . eight dead SUTs all hanging from a tree, all half eaten. Typical savage pillaging.” Joe’s voice took a saddened effect. “Then they found more savages. Those ones were dead, not by the hands of the SUTs but by an illness Robbie could only describe as . . .” He took a deep breath. “Plague like symptoms.” Like a well-rehearsed move, Joe watched all three men close their eyes and lean back. “Problem. Robbie believes that some of his men may have been exposed, not only to the bodies but perhaps infected savages as well. That’s where you three come in. What do we do? They have to stay out there till it’s an all clear, I suppose. Dean, how long?”

“Why?” Dean questioned, “do they have to stay out there? Let them come home. They’re our men.”

“Yes, I agree,” Joe said, “and I’ll answer that. Two reasons. One, they could very well be the future you went into and two, we have to keep this under wraps from general population. It will cause a panic and you know it. If they make it through the plague stages, are they safe to come back?”

“Yes,” Dean nodded, “but bring them in anyhow for research purposes to stop this thing . . .”

“Aren’t you listening?” Joe walked closer to Dean. “Research to stop this? How in Christ name do you know that they aren’t what starts this? You don’t. You don’t know that in that future you went into, Robbie and our men weren't the one who brought it in. We can’t take that chance and you know it. Besides, can you safely quarantine sixteen men with a guarantee that what they may or may not have, will not spread?”

Dean shook his head. “Not with a hundred percent certainty. We can try.”

“Trying isn’t good enough. We have a community to worry about. Unless you can absolutely guarantee me that sixteen men can be quarantined, I don’t want to hear about it. Dean, I’d love to know my son will walk through those gates, but I have an entire community to concern myself with. How does it go? The needs of many outweigh the needs of one?” Joe took on a thinking look. “What Bible reference is that?”

Henry raised his head some. “Uh Joe? I believe that was Star Trek, Mr. Spock.”

“You’re shitting me?” Joe shrugged. “You would know, Henry. Anyhow, back to what I was saying. Dean, you know what I mean. You understand don’t you?”

“I understand.” Dean dropped his head. “No, sixteen is way too many to handle. We don’t have the facilities at the mobile lab.”

“That’s what I thought,” Joe continued. “How long should they stay away from Beginnings?”

Dean thought about it. “There’s a four to five day incubation period. Day six, if they aren’t exhibiting signs of the plague, they’ll be safe. But Joe, they could be out there a while. The plague symptoms we have data on, if it’s the same one, run for two weeks. Others may avoid exposure for that long, but they still may get it. If only a few come down with it at a time, we can be looking at up to eight weeks.”

“This I know,” Joe agreed, “but it’s a chance we have to take. Frank, you’ve been speaking to Robbie regularly on what he and his men have used as far as ammo goes. How do they stand right now protection wise? Did you bring that info?”

“Yeah.” Frank checked out his clipboard. “Estimating what they probably used to take out the savages, I’ll say they have some, but are probably running low. Enough to take out one more attack, but if they encounter more than that out there, they may be screwed. If memory serves me right, there’s an Air Force base right outside of Boise. I think.”

Dean snapped his finger. “There is. Mountain Home.”

Frank nodded. “That’s the one. Robbie can probably surplus there. Hit the armory and such. Get some things. Maybe even dig up some M.R.E.’s if they’re running low on food.”

“Good thinking.” Joe made a notation on his own clipboard. “Henry, gas, radio, phone, anything you can think of?”

“The phone batteries aren’t going to last long, Joe. He’s probably on his last one and the radios could be out of range with all the mountains. I think you should keep them moving, have them stop at the Air Force base like Frank suggested, but have them head as close to home as you’d allow them. That way if they need supplies, we can drop it to them.”

“Also,” Dean added, “if they’re close enough and they get the new plague, we’re close enough to them to bring me out there, in protective , to get samples and give them medical attention.”

Joe pointed the pencil he held. “That’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get there. As for now, Robbie’s waiting for the decision.” Setting down his clipboard, Joe picked up the center’s phone knowing that it wouldn’t beep annoyingly when he used it. He called Robbie and connected the call to the speaker system.

“Yeah,” Robbie answered a half a ring into the call.

“Robert,” Joe spoke up, “I have Frank, Dean and Henry here”

Robbie laughed, “Frankie, Cranky, and Spanky. You have me on a speaker phone, Dad. I hate speaker phones.”

“Deal with it.” Joe lit a cigarette. “Robbie, we've decided on what you and I discussed.” There was a long silent pause. “Robbie.”

“I hear you. Are we staying put?”

“No.” Joe told him. “Take the old main road toward home and stop off at Mountain Home Air Force Base. It’s close to you now.” Joe began to flip through the computer map. “It’s about twenty miles from Boise. Then I need you guys to halt up somewhere around Rock Springs. It’s close to home and we’ll be able to get to you if you need anything.”

“Got that,” Robbie sounded even sadder. “Dean, it was bad.”

Dean swallowed the news. “I can only imagine.”

“Frank,” Robbie called out, “hey, I hear you’re a dad again. Good Job. Dad says the baby is cute.”

“Yeah he is,” Frank responded. “I named him Nicholas Robert.”

A short laugh came from Robbie. “Thanks, Frank. I bet Henry was bitching like a woman naming the kid after me.”

“No,” Frank spoke harshly. “Henry doesn’t mind. Do you, Henry?”

Slowly Henry lifted his head, his voice cracking as he talked, “No, I don’t mind.”

A momentary gloating moment that was unseen came from Robbie. “Oh, Henry, how’s that microchip going?”

“Not,” Henry answered. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Henry.” Robbie’s voice turned to a serious one. “I have something for you. I got it in Seattle. Check this name out...Cyborg-genic Lobel Programming. I have the program, Henry.”

Henry’s eyes lit up. “You have it?”

“I think,” Robbie said. “You’ll have to check it out when I . . .” Robbie became silent for a second. “Henry, if I don’t make it back, you have to get this. I think this is it.”

Henry closed his eyes. “You’ll make it back, Robbie.”

Joe blew the cigarette smoke loudly from his mouth and took over the conversation. “Robbie, you guys better get started before it gets dark. You call me tomorrow or earlier if you run into problems. You hear me?”

“I hear. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Good luck, son. I’m proud of you.” He took an emotional breath and disconnected the call. He slowly faced the three men in the room. “I need an uplift. I think I’ll let my daughter annoy me for a bit while I visit her. Is it going to be an alone visit or are any of you three bozos going to intrude?” He didn’t get an answer. “Henry, wanna walk me over and show me the baby?”

Henry stood up. “Oh sure, Joe I’ll . . .” He shifted his eyes to Frank. “You know what Joe, I have some work in Mechanics to do. I can’t.” He walked to the door. “I’ll walk to the clinic with you though.”

“Sounds good.” Joe followed him. “Frank, Dean, thanks for your help.”

Dean lifted his hand in acknowledgment as he watched Joe and Henry leave. Seeing Frank follow behind, he stood up. “Frank, wait up.”

Frank stopped and flung his head back. “What, Dean?”

“What’s going on? Earlier you were fine with Henry and now the guy seems petrified of you and you’re acting . . .”

“Hold it.” Frank halted him. “I acted this afternoon. What you saw here is not acting. If Henry is petrified of me, let him. He should be and he’s lucky he’s walking right now.”

“Frank. You divorced Ellen. You can’t be upset about them being married.”

Frank laughed. “Married? Something is up with that shit. Personally, that’s the least of my worries. Their marriage means shit to me. Shit. As far as how that baby came to be … I’m not buying it. One or both are lying. Henry fathered that kid. Fake understanding or not, he broke the rules. Unforgivable.”

Dean lowered his head and nodded. “You’re right.”

“I am.”

Dean was going to say more, but before he could, he heard the door close. Frank was gone. “Hey!” He jumped to the door. “Hey!” He called out echoing down the hall. “Shit.” He threw his hands in the air and went back in. Alone, he looked around and searched out a radio. “Left me alone in here.” Dean found one, turned it on, and listened for the hiss. “They just better not say anything if something happens and I miss it. It is not my fault.” Switching around the channels, Dean sought out Joe or someone from security to fill in. While he sat down to wait, he pulled his folders closer to review them. Through the tops of his eyes he noticed a volume adjustment and turned it all the way down. He figured Beginnings was already screwed if something should happen while he was on watch. He didn’t want to hear it coming.