The Misplaced Mentor Read online

  “That must have been expensive.”

  Tremain nodded in agreement, then spied a refreshment bar set up at the back of the lobby.

  “Shall we get something to drink, then go see the rest of the exhibit?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  A few moments later, drinks in hand, they wandered upstairs to the actual artifact exhibit. It was a guided tour, which started on one side of the large open room, then wound its way throughout the area, ending on the opposite side, near the exit staircase.

  Each section had a plaque which explained the story of the dig, the apparent historical significance of the artifact on display and how it fit into the grander view of the Mayflower People. Tremain clucked to himself as he read each one. Alice grinned as she saw the case with the crystals. It seemed like a regular glass case, but she detected a slight glow at the edges.

  “What sort of containment did you come up with?” She asked

  “Oh nothing huge, just a lead liner with a current running through it. It creates a sort of force field the signals can’t escape from. At least, not yet.” He gave the crystals a long look, “They are beautiful, aren’t they?”

  A burst of static came from the speakers around each display, causing Alice to look around. Three uniformed men were pushing their way through the museum-goers. The very air around them seemed to shimmer and ripple. Tremain, oblivious to it all, kept reading the plaque in front of him. Alice watched as the men approached.

  Their metallic brown jumpsuits had a military cut to them. The dark face plates of the large helmets obscured their faces. Alice took a sharp intake of breath when he saw they were carrying weapons, but unlike any she’d ever laid eyes on.

  They looked like large fish that had their guts pulled out and piled on their dorsal sides. A series of tubes and wires attached to the puffy cylindrical barrels led up to the mass of multi-colored, pulsing masses on the top of the rifle. The business end of the thing looked like a puckered fish mouth. While looking quite bizarre, they were unmistakably guns. She turned to face the men, who were quickly approaching them, tapping Tremain on the back as she did so.

  “Tremain, I think we have company.”

  “What’s that?” Tremain turned, then saw the uniformed men. “Hello, what’s this?”

  The figures completely ignored them, just raised their weapons.

  Tremain instinctively pushed Alice behind himself as he confronted these mystery men.

  “Who are you? What is the meaning all this?” He glanced around, looking for an avenue of escape, finding the exits blocked by one of the uniformed men.

  The lead figure said nothing, but squeezed the body of his weapon. Tremain heard a burping, bleating sound as the pucker mouth opened. A gooey-glowing substance emanated from the orifice. It shot forward, towards Tremain.

  Tremain reacted instinctively. He turned away, holding his arm back to move Alice with him, dodging the glowing mass as it shot past him. Alice hadn’t moved quickly enough. Tremain watched in horror as it engulfed her, her eyes flew wide and her mouth gaped in a scream. There was a zapping sound, and she collapsed. The gooey substance slowly dissolved into the air. Screams filled the museum as people fled.

  Tremain dropped to Alice’s side, fear building inside him. He brushed away the remaining scraps of glowing goo, which promptly dissipated. With a shaking hand, he felt for a pulse.

  “Oh thank goodness, she’s still breathing.” He finally noticed the uniformed men gathering close once again. Fury erupted on Tremain’s face as he stood.

  “What is the meaning of all this? Who are you?”

  The only reply was a raising of the fish-gun once again. Tremain didn’t hesitate, just slapped the gun aside. “Do you mind?!” he shouted.

  Instead of being pushed aside, the gun body snapped in two. Tremain jumped back in surprise as a gurgling blort sounded and an enormous amount of the glowing substance engulfed the uniformed men. The resulting flash and zapping sound caused Tremain to shield his eyes. When he could see once again, the uniformed men were gone. Only a shimmer remained in the air. Tremain ran his hands through his hair, his eyes blazing, then threw his arms wide.

  “What in the absolute bloody hell is going on?”

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  The paramedics had administered first aid to Alice by the time the police came to Tremain for a statement. Hollis, alternately wringing his hands and wiping his forehead, stood by Alice’s side, murmuring to both her and the paramedics.

  Tremain turned to the officer, who wore a stern look on his face.

  “Can you describe what you saw?” he asked, data pad in hand, taking notes.

  “I bloody well can!” Taking a deep breath, he lowered his voice, “My apologies, Officer. This evening has been something of a bust.”

  The officer listened as Tremain described the men, their guns and the incident in full. The officer snapped off the pad, thanked him for his assistance, and explained he’d follow up if they found anything. Tremain turned to Alice, who rubbed her forehead as she slowly recovered from the shock.

  “What did they hit me with?” she asked, her accent thicker as she slurred her words.

  Tremain pulled out a small device from his lab coat, and snapped it into a port in his unrolled tablet. Waving the device over Alice, he glanced at his tablet. Hollis came over to him, motioning to the device.

  “Newfangled toy, Tremain? Hardly the time to play, what?” the Professor said, again wiping his forehead.

  Tremain half-smiled as he glanced up at his friend.

  “Not a toy at all, Hollis. It’s a new medical device I’m working on. It takes readings of all vital signs in whoever is on the receiving end.” He tapped it against his leg, then waved it over Alice once again, “Sure, it’s a little sluggish, but it is only a prototype.” He grunted in surprise as he read the results.

  Hollis waved his hands in annoyance.

  “Well, what does it tell you?” he almost yelled.

  “Calm yourself. According to this, she’s a perfectly healthy eighty year old man.” Tremain chuckled as he replaced the works into his lab coat. “Obviously I need to fine tune it just a bit, but,” he crouched down and put a reassuring hand on Alice’s shoulder, “it seems she’ll make a full recovery,” he smiled as Alice turned to him. “How do you feel?”

  “The fog is lifting, thank goodness,” she struggled to stand, stumbling a little, but Tremain supported her, “who were those men?”

  Tremain’s brows furrowed as he frowned.

  “I have no idea, but I intend to find out!”

  Alice’s wobbling legs soon became stronger as she recovered. She blinked and stretched. Tremain clapped his hands together and rubbed his stomach.

  “All this excitement has made me quite hungry. Who’s up for a quick dinner?”

  Alice looked at Tremain as if he were insane. Hollis laughed, a full-throated belly-laugh.

  “And here I thought my appetite was enormous!” He laughed once again, and strode towards the exit, “Well, I guess tonight’s event is over. I hope I don’t have to refund too many tickets.”

  Tremain looked around at the now quiet, empty museum.

  “I will get to the bottom of this.” He said quietly.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tremain took a hearty bite of his sandwich while Markus pushed his salad around for a bit before taking a half-hearted bite. They had finally met for lunch, the events of the previous evening seemed almost like a dream. Markus had shaken his head as Tremain had recounted the experience.

  The scientist swallowed and frowned at his friend.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “I will get to the bottom of it all. I just don’t know where to start.” He took another bite.

  Markus set his fork down.

  “I’m worried about Marjorie,” he blurted out.

  Tremain’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t expected that.

  Marjorie, Markus’ irascible aunt, had run the lab before Tremain. She h
ad brought a young, raw, wide-eyed Tremain in as an intern. He remembered the day as if it had just happened.

  He had only been about fifteen, still in school, when he walked into the main lab at the Hawkins building, just opposite Centennial Park. His eyes took in every little detail until a thin, wiry woman stepped in front of him.

  She stood, arms crossed, as she appraised him. Her blue eyes were steely in their assessment. Her sandy blond hair was tied back, wisps of silver appearing here and there. Her mouth was closed, not quite a frown, not quite a smile, with wrinkles creasing her face just outside the corners of her mouth. She wore almost no makeup.

  “So, you’re the genius my nephew sent to me?” she finally asked after a few extremely long seconds of silent appraisal.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Tremain replied as he shifted his backpack to the other shoulder.

  Marjorie half smiled and gestured to her desk, which sat in the front corner of the lab, just beyond the glass front wall.

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Set your backpack down over there and let’s see how smart you really are.”

  Tremain did as he was told, then stood again in front of Marjorie, his hands in his jeans pockets, trying to look as nonchalant as he could . . . and failing. She nodded, pursing her lips a little.

  “You’re not impressing me so far, so you’d better knock my socks off, got it?” her arms, still crossed, made Tremain feel as if she was warding him away from her lab, which, in fact, she was. Tremain nodded, and she began.

  “If I add salt to water, does it boil at the same temperature?”

  Tremain cocked an eyebrow. Was she kidding?

  “No, as salt makes the water boil at a lower temperature.”

  Marjorie nodded.

  “Okay, that was an easy one. If I have stresses along the boundaries of lithospheric plates, what is the result?”

  “Easy, earthquakes.”

  “What’s the most common element in the universe?”

  “Hydrogen. I thought you were testing me, why are you giving me soft-ball questions?”

  Marjorie’s eyebrows shot up while her lips pursed even tighter.

  “Well, you are a cheeky little pisser, aren’t you? Markus wasn’t kidding. Fine, buster, try this one out: Give me one element found on New Earth which cannot be formed by any process other than in the middle of a Super Nova?” She leaned back, confident she’d stumped the young man.

  Tremain frowned, his brows knit together. He knew as a star burns, it fuses hydrogen and helium atoms into other elements like silicon, chlorine, sodium, calcium all the way to basic iron elements. But when a star goes nova, meaning it explodes, other elements come into being due to the intense heat and pressures that occur. He snapped his fingers at her.

  “Gold,” he smiled a sly smile and crossed his arms, mimicking the older woman.

  Marjorie’s face lit into a grin, her large teeth gleaming in the overhead lights.

  “Okay, Tremain, the job is yours,” she pointed a stern finger at him, “impress me and you’ll move up the ranks fast, but if you don’t deliver, the next thing you’ll see is my foot kicking you out that door.” She nodded and turned her back to him, waving her right hand in the air, “You start tomorrow after school. Don’t be late.”

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Tremain’s thoughts were interrupted by Markus.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I’m worried about Marjorie. I haven’t heard from her in weeks, months even.”

  Tremain gave a dismissive gesture.

  “She’s a tough one. Maybe she’s gone on one of her sabbaticals. One of her get-back-to-nature walks?”

  Markus frowned.

  “Or what if she got hurt somehow and couldn’t reach anyone? Or what if she got mixed up in one of these weird events that have been going on?”

  Tremain sat back and regarded his friend. Markus wasn’t one to worry overly much, so he must really be concerned.

  “Well, I’m sure she’s alright, I just talked to her . . .” his voice trailed off. When was the last time he’d spoken to his old mentor? “Well, I guess it has been a while, hasn’t it? I think I last spoke to her about six months ago.”

  “There. You’ve made my point. I think she’s missing,” Markus pushed his salad away from him, his appetite lost.

  “Missing? She only has a few places she really frequents when she’s not getting all in touch with nature. Have you tried calling her? Tried tracking her tablet?” All devices issued by the lab had tracking devices built into them, so it was easy to keep tabs on the personnel. Tremain had gifted Marjorie a souped-up tablet when she retired. Markus looked down at the table.

  “I have. It shows she’s at her apartment.”

  Tremain slapped the table top, causing Markus to jump.

  “There you go. She’s at home. You can stop worrying.”

  “But she doesn’t answer my calls. Ever.”

  “You’re an adult, go see her.”

  Markus twitched his mustache.

  “She’s always intimidated me, you know that. I want you to come with, for moral support.”

  Tremain paused at this. He didn’t want to intrude on Marjorie’s privacy, but he needed to comfort Markus. He sighed.

  “Fine. Let’s go pay her a visit, then shall we?”

  “If she’s hurt, she may not be able to answer the door.”

  “If she’s okay, she will,” Tremain chuckled, “if only to tell us to go away.”

  “Let’s go after work, then,” Markus offered. Tremain glanced at his own tablet, noting the time.

  “Let’s do it now,” he ventured, “I have nothing pressing at the lab, why not now?”

  Markus gave a visible gulp.

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

  ∆ ∆ ∆

  Marjorie’s apartment building sat on the outskirts of the city, one of many just off from the bazaar, near the coast. Tremain and Markus walked the short distance from the lab complex, past the flapping tents and awnings of the bazaar, down to the residential area, overlooking the water. The austere building was built around a park, complete with park benches and walking paths. The pair walked up the stairs to Marjorie’s apartment in silence, the smell of stale air, cooked food and paint heavy in the corridor.

  Once outside the door, Tremain consulted his tablet.

  “Well, you are right, it shows she’s inside. Well, at least her tablet is.”

  “What if she’s injured . . . or worse?” Markus whispered.

  Tremain turned to his friend.

  “Have you regressed to a teenager again?” he scoffed, “you’re jumping to conclusions,” Tremain gestured to the door, “after you.”

  Markus knocked on the door.

  No answer.

  He gripped the door handle. It buzzed in answer.

  Locked.

  “Oh damn, it’s a biometric lock. Only Marjorie can unlock it.”

  Tremain nudged Markus aside.

  “Or someone with a key,” he said as he pulled a device from his lab coat. He fit it around the handle and pushed a few buttons. In seconds, the lock clicked open, pinging in acceptance, “There, we’re in.”

  “Tell me we didn’t just break the law,” Markus asked.

  “Of course not, who do you think helped Marjorie design that lock? Naturally, I had a back door for emergencies.”

  Markus sighed in relief.

  “Good. I didn’t want the authorities called down on us.”

  Tremain shook his head

  “Need I remind you that you are one of the authorities?”

  Markus chuckled.

  “I suppose you’re right. Come on, let’s go in.” He pushed the door open, ready to enter, but Tremain held him back.

  “Hold on, let me look first,” he said as he pushed past his friend.

  “Why? What do you think you’ll see?”

  Tremain stood just inside the doorway, scanning the areas he could see. No bodies visible, so that was a positive.

&
nbsp; “I’m just seeing if there is anything out of place.”

  “You’ve been here recently?”

  “No, I’ve never been here, but there’s a lot you can deduce from what you see initially,” Tremain stepped into the apartment, beckoning Markus to follow, “for instance, she’s not much into decorating, is she?” He gestured to the walls, which were bare, save for a few small pictures. The furniture was functional, but not cozy.

  The apartment’s front door opened into the living area of the apartment. Directly in front of them a short hallway led to the bedrooms and bathroom and off to the right stood the kitchen. Tremain and Markus stood in the center of the living room. The coffee table was littered with some papers and pamphlets. Markus walked through the kitchen to the bedrooms while Tremain leafed through the papers.

  He picked one at random and frowned when he looked at it. A photo of a plot of land appeared at the top, with a description of the property below it. At the very bottom was the agent’s details. The next few papers were the same, a piece of property, some large, some small, but all were offered by the same agent. He checked the dates. All were printed at least six or more months ago. He scratched his head as he pulled up one of the pamphlets. A brochure about a construction company. Another regarded refrigeration processes and equipment.

  Tremain’s frown deepened. Markus came from the bedrooms, shaking his head, and waving a rigid black piece of film.

  “She’s not here. I did find her tablet, on her bed. She didn’t want to be tracked down.”

  Tremain showed him the real estate listings.

  “She was looking at land all over the place. And,” he pointed at the various brochures, “she was building something,” He scratched his head again, “something secret. She didn’t want anyone knowing about it or we’d have heard.”

  “So what does this all mean?” Markus grumbled, “Where is she?” he dropped the tablet onto the kitchen counter and sighed in exasperation.