The Legend of Things Past (Beyond Pluto SciFi Futuristic Aventures Book 1) (9 page)

There were four white pillars holding up the balcony that
bordered the second floor. The porch was wide and held a rocking chair, a small
table, and a hammock. Tons of potted plants and flowers littered the floor and
the banister that ran along the front of the house.

Donovan crossed the yard, which was crowded with vegetable
plants and fruit trees, and knocked on the front door. The others crowded
around him with buckets of paint and brushes. He knew no one was there—he just
had to do this in case anyone was watching—but he had an irrational fear that
his grandfather would come to the door.

When no one answered, Jonathan stepped forward with his
phone and held it up to the door knob. There was a click and the door creaked
open. Donovan looked at him.

Jonathan shrugged and smiled mischievously. “I’m a tech
specialist. I hacked his security system and programmed a renovation
appointment for five minutes ago. The house has been expecting us.”

Donovan felt ashamed—he hadn’t even assessed the value of
his crew before leaving. He had no idea who could do what. No wonder they
hadn’t trusted him. It looked as if he didn’t care about this mission at all.

You have to get a hold of yourself, Knight. You have to
focus.
General McGregor’s voice was clear in his head again.

Donovan took a deep breath and walked inside the house. The
others marched in purposefully behind him, the sound of their footsteps and the
swish of their clothes echoing in the huge space of the foyer. Someone closed
the door.

They were in.

The foyer was a round room that led off to the other places
in the house. To the left was the doorway to the kitchen. Next to that, an
opening with a small set of stairs; they led into the living room. Directly
ahead, a set of steep stairs curved up and away to the right.

To the right of the stairs were two closed doors. Upon
opening them they discovered that the room next to the stairs was a rather
extensive science library. They were all awed by it—libraries didn’t really
exist anymore. The next door led to a small room filled with leather chairs and
solid wood tables. Another door inside the small study opened up to the
library.

Donovan could definitely imagine his grandfather living very
comfortably here. This would be paradise to him.

They began the search.

Everyone donned a pair of blue latex gloves. They used
special military scanners to search for anything out of place—blood, hair, fingerprints.
They wanted to know everything they could about Tobias—who kept him company in
this large house when he got bored with the library, where he spent most of his
time.

It was clear that Tobias spent many hours inside his library
and the attached study. His fingerprints plagued the place, more so than in his
own bedroom upstairs. The rest of the rooms in the house were cleared within
minutes for lack of anything interesting.

They didn’t find the lab spoken of in General McGregor’s
brief. But Donovan thought that might be because this was an entirely different
house—maybe he hadn’t built a lab in this one. Their scanners sensed no extra
rooms—no extra security where there should be nothing.

They concluded that perhaps Tobias hadn’t built the lab yet.
If that were so, it would make it even more difficult to find clues. If he was
using military labs for his private experiments he would clean up behind
himself scrupulously.

They searched the library the most thoroughly, spending the
bulk of their time there, trying to find helpful clues where there were none.
The trouble was, they weren’t exactly sure of what they should be looking for.

The shelves towered above their heads, reaching up to the
full two-story height of the house. They were built into the walls, lined with
book after book of every shape and size. The room had row after row of tall
bookcases, all filled with books, old articles, or periodicals.

“Why does he have so many books?” Jonathan asked. “Hasn’t he
ever heard of an e-reader? They’ve been around for at least two hundred years.”

“My grandfather hates virtual books. He says it’s not the
same as holding the real thing, feeling the pages.”

Jonathan shrugged. “I suppose—I’ve never really read out of
them to know. I haven’t seen this many books all in one place though—how did he
get them all? Do they have antique businesses that still print them?”

“No. Most people don’t know it, but e-books come with a
printing option. Usually only older people use it—and only the ones who have
enough money to own a printing and book-binding machine.”

“What’s a book-binding machine?” Eric asked. Everything that
came out of his mouth, even the most innocent of words, sounded belligerent.
Donovan tried not to let his dislike for the man show in his voice.

“It binds the pages of the book to the cover.”

“Ah.” Eric didn’t sound too impressed. In fact, he seemed
somewhat amused by Tobias’s oddity.

Donovan tried not to get angry. This was no time to go
defending his grandfather over not liking the look on a man’s face. They
already suspected Donovan of being a traitor. If General McGregor were there,
Donovan knew what he’d say.

Suck it up Knight. You’re a solider, not a boy scout.

Instead of saying anything, he turned his back. He found
Jonathan looking at him, almost knowingly—but when Donovan held his gaze
Jonathan looked away.

The search neared its conclusion, and Donovan was beginning
to feel as if they had hit a dead end. There was nothing there. They would
probably have to bring Tobias in for questioning. Donovan both feared and
relished the chance to talk to his grandfather face to face. Maybe then he
could get the truth about all this. He was still sure that there had to be some
kind of explanation. His grandfather had to be innocent.

As they were packing up their search technology and
eliminating any DNA they left behind, Blaise climbed the ladder that allowed
access to the upper shelves of the library. Out of all the crew, he had showed
the most interest in the books, asking Donovan more detailed questions about
how they were made. Donovan couldn’t answer most of them, but that didn’t stop
Blaise from asking anyway.

Blaise stretched for a book a foot above the reach of his
arm. He leaned to the left, fingertips grasping, his right foot leaving the
rung of the ladder. Suddenly, he lost his balance. Donovan watched, knowing even
as he rushed across the room that Blaise would take a hard fall.

The man tumbled to his left, arms flailing out madly in an
attempt to grab onto something, anything. His fingers couldn’t find purchase on
the shelves. Books came plummeting to the floor as he groped for something to
save him.

Unexpectedly, Blaise’s fall halted. He had managed to catch
on to one of the lamps that protruded from the walls at regular intervals. It
couldn’t hold his weight, however, and bent forward until it dangled upside
down. The movement shook Blaise’s grip and he fell—a much shorter distance—to
land solidly on the floor.

The book shelves in front of Blaise began to shift. They
slid to the side, revealing a dim passageway that turned sharply to the left.

It had happened so quickly that the others hardly realized
what was going on until Blaise landed. They turned from their various tasks to
see the pile of man on the ground looking up at them, still startled from his
accident, and an opening in the walls that had not been there before.

“A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to
persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

—Christopher Reeve

May 5, 2176

Atlanta, GA

Donovan Knight

“What the hell is that?” Paula asked.

“A secret passage, clearly,” Tracee said, eyes trained on
the spot. Donovan had not seen her remove her e-gun from the holster, but she
now pointed it firmly in the direction of the opening, almond eyes wide as she concentrated
on the spot. “Everyone stand back. Blaise get away from the door.”

Blaise scrambled on hands a knees then stood up when he was
a safe distance away. Tracee slowly approached the opening.

“Wait,” Donovan said, reaching for her arm. “I’ll go first.”

“Your life is more important than mine right now,” Tracee
said without looking at him. “If there are any traps I’ll find them. I go
first.”

“But…”

“That’s my assignment,” Tracee said. There was a little bit
of anger in her voice. “I’m here to protect you at all costs. I go first.”

Without waiting for an answer she walked purposefully
forward and entered the darkness of the passage. The instant she stepped
through, the corridor lit up. She approached the corner where it turned to the
left and whipped around it, pointing her e-gun.

“Clear.” She kept moving, disappearing behind the bend.

Donovan quickly followed her, drawing his own e-gun. Paula
came up behind him and the rest behind her.

Around the corner was a long hall that sloped gently
downwards and, at the end of it, a pair of doors. Tracee had already reached
them, but she stood a couple of feet back.

“Chaplain!” Tracee shouted, keeping her eyes locked on the
door and e-gun at the ready.

Jonathan rushed forward, the rest of them following closely.

“Here, BG Parker.”

“I need you to open this door.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jonathan pulled out his phone and went to work. They all
stood there, each passing moment increasing the tension in their muscles.

Finally, the double doors, which Donovan had presumed would
swing open due to the fancy decorations carved into the wood and the shiny gold
door hinges, slid to the side to disappear into the walls.

“Looks like we’ve found Tobias’s lab,” Tracee said.

“But how come my sensors didn’t find it?” Jonathan said. He
looked frustrated and fascinated at the same time. “They should have sensed a
security system.”

Donovan laughed.

“Don’t you get it?” he said. “There is no security system.
He didn’t put one up because he knew that if anyone suspected him, they’d be
looking for security systems to find hidden rooms.”

Jonathan looked awestruck.

“I bet there wasn’t even a lock on those doors. Tracee just
assumed they were locked and you hacked into the sensor to force them open. But
you didn’t have to break through any security system did you?”

Jonathan’s eyes opened wider. “I didn’t…”

“Watch,” Donovan said. “Close them again.”

Jonathan did as he said. Donovan walked up to the closed
doors. As soon as he was within a foot of them, they opened automatically.

“See?” Donovan said. “No security whatsoever.”

“Wow,” Jonathan said. “Never would have thought of that.”

“Don’t feel too bad. My grandfather is a genius, after all.”

Eric sneered. “I suppose that makes you proud doesn’t it?
You sure you’re not on his side?”

Donovan laughed again. “I’m not explaining myself again.
Either you will follow me or you won’t. Or, if you prefer, I can speak with
General Umar and have you removed from the team. I’m sure he can find you a
mission that has a leader more to your liking.”

Eric glared at him and stormed past, brushing Donovan’s
shoulder.

Tracee looked at Donovan and winked. Then she followed Eric
into the lab.

The entire room seemed to be made of metal. It was full of
shiny, silver surfaces. There were multiple stainless steel refrigerators and
tables. There was a deep sink and a long counter covered with test tubes,
beakers, flasks, burettes, funnels, pipettes, and tons of other equipment Donovan
didn’t recognize.

It was clear that Tobias had cleaned the place
meticulously—not a spill or a crumb anywhere, and every piece of equipment had
its place.

Paula opened up one of the refrigerators. “Tons of test
tubes in here. May be the virus.”

“Take pictures and record each sample,” Donovan said.

Paula nodded and got to work. She pulled out a black device
with a small hole at the bottom. She placed the device over a test tube and
pressed a button. A needle eased out of the hole and into the contents of the
test tube. The device recorded the properties of the sample and the needle
withdrew. Paula moved on to the next one.

The rest of them kept looking around, opening up cabinets
and drawers. But there was nothing else interesting to be found. Tracee stood
guard at the door, just in case they had unwittingly triggered some alarm that
Tobias had hidden. Donovan doubted that there was any alarm system there, but
Tracee insisted on being stationed at the door anyway.

Jonathan, Blaise, and Eric joined Paula in recording the
contents of the test tubes. There were more of them inside the other two refrigerators.
At least twenty test tube racks were inside each fridge and about ten test
tubes to each rack. Donovan waited patiently for them to finish.

Just as they were wrapping up the last couple dozen test
tubes, Donovan spotted a door in the corner, hidden behind a silver six-tier
rolling cart. The shelves of the cart were packed with potted plants, which was
why Donovan had not noticed the door behind it at first.

Donovan rolled the cart gently to the right to reveal a
plain white door. The way it was wedged into the corner made him think it was a
broom closet. Maybe this was where Tobias kept extra cleaning supplies.

Behind the door was not a closet but a whole other room,
smaller than the first and filled with machines buzzing with advanced
technology. Donovan checked on his team. Tracee was still just outside the
front door—he could see the curve of her shoulder. The others had their backs
to him, focused on the test tubes.

Donovan stepped cautiously inside. The thing against the
opposite wall immediately drew his attention. How could he not look at it?

There was a wide counter and on top of it was what looked
like a glass casket, like in that old Disney movie from the 2000s that his
mother had made him watch. What was it called?

Snow White.

There was a body inside.

Donovan approached cautiously, slowly. What kind of sick
operation was his grandfather running down here? Whose body was it? Donovan’s
breath came fast and he was afraid that the body inside the glass would move.

Donovan had the silly, irrational thought that his
grandfather was experimenting with bringing back the dead. That couldn’t be, because
scientists had tried since the twenty-one hundreds and had reached a dead end
in 2168.

Donovan knew because he had spent months and months after
his parents’ deaths studying the research, hoping against all logic that he
could somehow spot a flaw in the experiments of the greatest minds in science.

Even his grandfather had told him it was impossible. If
Tobias couldn’t figure it out then no one would, but Donovan had tried anyway.
He had only given up after an attempt to bring back a dead rabbit nearly killed
him. Donovan had been surprised that he wasn’t punished when his grandfather
found out about it.

He’d never forgotten what his grandfather had said when he
came to see Donovan in the hospital.

“Aren’t I in trouble?” Donovan had asked when Tobias spent
the whole visit without mentioning it. “I mean, I almost completely destroyed
my room and I almost killed myself…”

“Shush, boy,” Tobias had said gently. “There’s no punishment
for missing your parents.”

Donovan has nearly cried, so happy that someone understood.

Knowing for certain that Tobias wasn’t attempting to
resurrect corpses, Donovan wondered if it was his father’s body inside the
casket. Looking intently at the figure from ten feet away—Donovan couldn’t
bring himself to go any closer—it did sort of look like his father. It had the
same skin tone, the same angle to its nose, the same hands clasped at the
waist.

Donovan took a deep breath.

It’s just a dead body, Knight. Did I train you to be
afraid of corpses? Get in there and investigate!
Donovan wondered if
General McGregor had implanted a device in his head to reprimand him whenever
he messed up.

He took a step, then another. As he moved closer he realized
that the figure was not his father. It was someone far more disturbing and
confusing.

Inside the casket lay the body of world renowned scientific
genius, Tobias Knight.

Donovan stumbled as he backed away. He fell hard to the
floor, hitting his tailbone. He rubbed his back, scrubbing away the pain.
Gingerly, he rose to his feet.

He heard General McGregor’s voice in his head…

In
2241, we discovered Tobias’s secret lab. In it, we found documents that
revealed that he experimented with cloning and the creation of human-friendly
viruses, both of which activities are illegal.

…and he realized that the body in the glass coffin—or not a
coffin but a storage container—was a clone of his grandfather.

Much less afraid now, Donovan walked up to the glass. It
looked exactly like his grandfather, from the hairs in his nose to the small
mole on the left side of his neck. His eyes were closed. The clone was dressed
in a suit. It really did look like a dead body. Donovan wondered how it
worked—was the clone alive but in an artificial coma? Was it a working body
with pumping blood?

As he thought the question, he noticed that the chest of the
clone was rising and falling. So the thing was alive. But what was its purpose?
Could it actually walk and talk or would it spend its life sleeping?

Maybe his grandfather had only created it to use it for its
organs. Donovan shuddered at the genius of the idea. If Tobias’s heart went
bad, there was another, right there, working perfectly. All he had to do was
take it. It was perfectly compatible. No rejection meds needed.

But then again, what about the life of the clone? Did it
have its own personality, separate from Tobias? Did it have feelings? Or was it
just a hunk of flesh to be used as a commodity?

Donovan stared into the familiar face, much younger than what
he was accustomed to, but familiar nonetheless.

The hairs on the back of Donovan’s neck stood up. He
stiffened, certain that someone had snuck up on him and was standing right
behind him. He listened closely.

Donovan heard the voices of his team in the other room. They
hadn’t noticed his absence—it had seemed like hours but he’d only been gone for
a moment or two. They were talking about what they would do next. Donovan heard
first Paula then Eric speak. Then he heard Jonathan. Where were Blaise and
Tracee?

Certainly Tracee had to still be keeping watch? And even if
it were her or Blaise, wouldn’t they have said something by now?

All of these thoughts flashed through Donovan’s head in a second.
In one quick movement, he reached to his holster and drew his e-gun, spinning around
at the same time.

He didn’t even get to bring the e-gun up to eye level. A
force like that of a charging bull knocked it out of his hand. He felt his bone
crack as the gun went flying and fell to the floor.

Donovan shouted as the pain lanced up him arm, but he
couldn’t linger over it. He had to move or he would die. He was only aware of a
hulking figure standing over him and the urgency of escape.

Instinct took over. Donovan grabbed the nearest object and
held it in front of his face to block the next blow. As the fist of his
attacker dented it, he realized that it was a large metal bowl.

The others had heard his shout and came rushing in. The man,
distracted by the new arrivals, turned to defend himself. Donovan seized his
chance. He grabbed his gun from the floor and stood up.

Paula and Eric had both already shot the man with the
electric shock settings on their e-guns, but he was impervious to them. He
charged forward and grabbed Paula by the throat, slamming her into the wall.

Donovan winced, knowing firsthand the strength of the enemy.
A sickened feeling crept into his bowels as he saw Paula slide to the floor,
blood trailing behind her head, eyes wide open. Donovan had seen that look in
the eyes of many soldiers and even more enemies. She was dead.

The attacker had already moved on to Eric, who shot at the
attacker over and over, fear making his hand shake. His volts missed every
time.

Before Eric could react, the man had punched him in the
stomach, sending him flying. Eric landed and did not get up. Blood began to
spread on the stomach area of his white t-shirt. He lay on his side, staring at
Donovan as blood dripped out of his mouth.

Donovan had never been this afraid in his life. There was no
way anyone could be this powerful. Who the hell was this guy?

Jonathan and Blaise had retreated at the display of
strength. They turned over tables and used them as shields, firing their e-guns
over the top, settings on kill mode. Donovan added to their attacks, shooting
at the man from behind, terrified that he would turn back around at any second.

Even the volts that landed did hardly anything to slow the
man down. He shook momentarily each time he was hit but plunged forward
relentlessly.

He reached over the table and grabbed Blaise by the
shoulders. There was a gurgling noise as Blaise relieved himself. Donovan and
Jonathan kept shooting. Only when Blaise was thrown to the side like a rag
doll, body dangling over one of the tables, did Donovan wonder where Tracee had
gone.