Linkage: The Narrows of Time

Chapter 4

Relegation





Lucas wondered how thesoldiers had been able to pass through security with their weapons inhand. Bruno’s scanning equipment must have lit up like a child’sface on Christmas morning.

“Which of you is Dr.Ramsay?” the lieutenant asked.

Lucas raised his handand held up his ID. The lieutenant nodded once and then removed awritten manifest from the briefcase. He handed it to Lucas.

“Project AG-356-12.Yes, that’s correct. Looks like it’s all here. Do I need to signfor it?”

“Yes, sir. Just signthe form on the line at the bottom.”

Lucas pulled a pen outof his shirt pocket and signed it. The Marine took the document, putit in his briefcase, and the two marched in unison the opposite waydown the hall toward the newly completed NASA annex. Not a singlemisstep the entire way.

“Drew, did you seewhere they went?”

“Yeah. Kleezebeedidn’t say this stuff was from NASA, did he?”

“Not that I remember.But it doesn’t matter to me; I’m just glad it’s here.”

Drew snatched themanifest from his brother and looked at it. “Me, too. I’m tiredof running simulations; we needed this stuff months ago.”

Lucas bent over andtested the weight of the closest box. “It’s heavier than itlooks.” He wondered how the two Marines had carried the containers.They were both taller and stronger than he was, but still, they musthave had help. “Hang on a minute while I find a dolly. There has tobe one around here somewhere.”

“I think there’sone in Griffith’s lab. He usually works all night on Fridays andshould still be there.”

Dr. Griffith Davies, arenowned astrobiologist, specialized in the origin and evolution oflife in the universe. He held PhDs in chemistry, molecular biology,physics, and astronomy.

“Jesus, that guydrives me crazy. He never shuts up and is always trying to ingratiatehimself,” Lucas said.

“That’s because hehas a little man-crush on you.”

Lucas ignored theimagery swirling around his head. “Thanks, just what I needed.”

“I think he wants youas his boy-toy.”

“Knock it off. That’snot even funny. The guy’s not gay. You’ve seen his wife—she’sa total knockout.”

“Yes, she is.”

“It makes you wonderwhy she’s with such a troll.”

Lucas wasn’t sure howGriffith managed to land such a gorgeous trophy wife, but the man wasone lucky fellow. She was ten years younger than Griffith and had astellar, homegrown body that supermodels would envy. To keep hersatisfied, he assumed Griffith was packing a 10-pound wonder dog or aplentiful balance sheet. Either way, Lucas was jealous.

Lucas stood in front ofGriffith’s lab door and planned his actions carefully. Griffith hadseveral close friends on the Advisory Committee, any one of whichcould shut his experiment down with a single phone call. He knockedtwice and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

Griffith answered thedoor, wearing a white lab coat and cheater glasses. Thetoupee-wearing 40-year-old was holding a cordless soldering gun andresin in his hands. On his left cheek was a streak of red marker ink.Just like last time, it stretched from just under his eye clear downto his chin. Lucas coughed to cover up his laugh. It seemed to work.

“Hey, Lucas!”Griffith said heartily. “It’s wonderful to see you. Do you needmy help with something? Wow, you look especially handsome today. Howis your project coming along? I hear you’re getting a new lab techtonight. How’s your mother feeling? What were those Marinesdelivering? They sure looked impressive in their uniforms, didn’t—”

Lucas was in a rush,but couldn’t afford to be rude. Keep it simple, he decided. “I’mfine, the project’s fine, Drew’s fine, we’re all fine. Ifyou’re not using it, can I borrow your hand truck?”

“Sure, go rightahead. It’s right by my desk.”

He kept a safe distanceaway from Griffith to avoid his constant hand touches. The mansmelled of cleaning chemicals; some of them were probably toxic, evenfatal. Lucas was barely inside the door, and already his nasalpassages were flooded with the smell. He minimized his breathing.

“Do you need me tohelp? Did you know I work out regularly and can lift heavy objects?You should be careful with your back. Be sure to lift with your legs;hernias can happen easily.”

Lucas stopped listeningas Griffith continued to ramble, talking aimlessly about something,anything, everything. Lucas really didn’t care. He just needed tofind the hand truck and get back to Drew. Nothing else mattered. Hefound it right where Griffith said it would be, spun it around withone hand to face the door, and pushed it ahead of him. Focus on thedoor, nothing else, he told himself. Just get back to Drew. He kepthis head down to avoid eye contact in fear it might extend theconversation unnecessarily.

The hallway wasn’tfar now but Griffith was still right on his heels yapping aboutsomething. It was clear Griffith was going to follow him into thehallway and possibly into their lab. He needed an excuse. He turnedaround and held out his hands while standing near the exit. “Sorry,but this delivery belongs to Dr. Kleezebee and contains classifiedmaterial. Nobody else is allowed within twenty feet of it.”

“Okay, I understand.Take your time. Just return the dolly when you’re done. I won’tneed it for at least a week. When you stop by again, we should go tolunch—”

Lucas rolled his eyesin relief when he heard Griffith’s lab door close behind him.

Drew was waiting forhim in the hallway, laughing quietly with the back of his handcovering his mouth.

Lucas scowled. “Gladyou’re enjoying yourself. Now let’s get this shit insidealready.”

Drew slid his accesscard through the security scanner. After a loud buzz and a hollowclick, the double doors swung open automatically. He used hiswheelchair as a stop block to keep them from closing.

It took all of Lucas’strength to load and center the three containers onto the hand-truck.He hauled them into the center of the lab, being careful not to losethe heavy load along the way. He slid the stack off and left theboxes sitting on the floor next to a rectangular worktable.

The security scannerbuzzed again. “Jesus, what now?” he muttered, wondering ifGriffith might be popping in for an unscheduled visit. But it wasRandol Larson of the Advisory Committee. The pencil-thin attorney wascarrying a clipboard and gold-colored pen as he walked into the lab,his head tilted slightly back.

“I guess it’s up tome to deal with this guy,” Lucas mumbled when he did not seeKleezebee tagging along. He waved a quick hello to Bruno, who wasstanding just outside their door with his Master Security Card inhand. Apparently, Bruno had used it to let Larson into their lab.

Larson, who appeared tobe about ten years younger than Kleezebee, was dressed in a blue,form-fitting pinstripe suit. His medium-length blond hair was neatlyfeathered front-to-back on the left side. It adhered to the side ofhis head, defying both gravity and air pressure as he moved.

Lucas assumed Larson’sspotless presentation was purposely done to distract people fromnoticing his acne scars, which made his cheeks look like the surfaceof an asteroid after a yearlong meteor shower. He agreed withKleezebee’s earlier assessment about the attorney: It was hard tobelieve this frail-looking man was a former gunnery sergeant in theMarines.

Larson said to Lucas,“Dr. Lucas Ramsay, I presume? I am Randol Harrison Larson theThird, lead council for the University’s Advisory Committee forTheoretical Research.”

“Yes, sir, I’m Dr.Ramsay, and this is my brother Drew. What can we—?”

“Where’s Kleezebee?He was to meet me here thirty seconds ago.”

Lucas looked at hisbrother. Drew shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. Last I heard heintended to be here to show you around.”

Larson clicked his penfrequently as he walked slowly around the room, stopping periodicallyto transcribe something onto his clipboard. Lucas figured Larsonneeded to document the contents of their lab, possibly for insurancepurposes, but he wasn’t sure. He considered asking the man, butdecided to let Kleezebee handle it when he arrived.

Larson stopped in histracks and stared through the ten-foot-wide window that led into theadjoining chamber. He scribbled a long series of notes beforeclicking his pen one final time and sticking it back in his shirtpocket. He leaned in close to Drew’s face. “All right, then,let’s get on with it.”

Drew rolled his chairback a few feet and didn’t respond.

“Come on now, I don’thave all day,” Larson said, louder this time.

Lucas moved in front ofDrew, chest expanded, fighting the urge to strike the bully. It wasan instinctive reaction brought on by years of torment in theorphanage. “Can I help you with something?”

Larson took anuncoordinated step back, lowered his head, and began fiddling withhis gold pen while shuffling through several layers of his paperwork.

This guy’s a formerMarine? Lucas thought.

Larson cleared histhroat before looking at Lucas. “I’ve just received this lengthy,attorney-prepared disclaimer agreement from the Defense Department.Obviously, I need a comprehensive briefing concerning the nature ofyour project, and its need for the material in these threecontainers. Liability must be assessed. Damage must be mitigated.”

Goddamn attorneys,Lucas thought, remembering the family’s hefty legal bills to defendhis dad’s failed pest control invention. He’d thought abouthiring a lawyer to fight the insurance company over his mother’sdenied medical claims, but hated the idea of lining some futurepolitician’s pocket with what little money he had. Maybe he shouldteam up with one of the chemical geeks down the hall and invent abio-toxin that targeted only insurance executives and lawyers. Heliked that idea—would probably make him rich in the process sinceeveryone would want a supply.

Larson continued,“Which one of you wants to explain this to me? I need to know whoauthorized this.”

Before Lucas couldrespond, Kleezebee buzzed in and bolted through the lab entrance. Hepushed at the doors, not waiting for them to open fully on their own.

“Damn it, Larson, I’mhere. I told you earlier that I would handle this. Let’s go and letthese guys work. I’ll explain it all to you—probably very slowly,so you’ll understand.”

Lucas looked at Drewwho was sitting in his wheelchair, smiling. Lucas took a deep breathand then let the air seep out through his lips. Kleezebee had come totheir rescue as he had done countless times before. It seemed likeany time they needed help, Kleezebee would somehow know and magicallyarrive just in time to assist.

Just then, the labdoors opened again. It was Kleezebee and he looked pissed. “Nexttime, run the paper by me first,” he said to Lucas. “You’relucky nothing in it violated this project’s confidentialityagreement.”

“Sorry, boss,”Lucas said, assuming Larson had just told Kleezebee. The professorreturned to the hallway as quickly as he came in.

“What was that allabout?” Drew asked.

“Nothing. I’ll tellyou later. Let’s get to work.”

Lucas and Drew began their shift by dressing in their customary whitelab coats and logging into the computer network.