CHAPTER 1
THE CALL
The still of the morning was broken by the ringing phone. Arare occurrence the past two years, ever since the accident.Prior to that, early morning phone calls were not usual. As the chiefscientist at the Biotech Company James Jeffreys worked for on thewest coast, Dr. Jeffreys would start his day around 6 am, and wouldfrequently get calls from the office prior to leaving for work. Eversince the accident, the family longed to be awakened again by thoseearly morning calls.
"Mom, the phone's ringing," yelled Jason as he reached thebottom step descending the stairs.
She picked up the phone just as he entered the kitchen.
Jenna was sitting at the table in the nook.
Both watched intently as their mother listened without saying aword to the strange and unexpected call so early in the day.
Suddenly mother's face turned white as a ghost. Jason and Jennastared intently at their mother.
The last time they had seen that look on her face was when shereceived the call about the 'accident' two years ago.
A flood of emotions swelled up in Jason.
Fear, sadness, and anger, but worst of all, an inexplicableexcitement that was uncanny, unexplainable, and very uncomfortable.
The last two years the family had gone through what they couldonly describe as SHEAR HELL. The calls, the waiting, the visits,the unanswered questions. More waiting, more questions. Tears to thepoint of emotional and physical exhaustion. Jason was sure his motherhad reached the brink of a nervous breakdown. She had continued tofunction, though sometimes running on a thread of energy.
Jenna, two years younger that Jason, a junior in high school atthe time had really picked up the slack at home.
Jason had just finished his first year of college, and had foregonereturning so he could help around the house and support his mother.
He and mom had just talked the week before about him reapplyingagain and getting on with his life.
Still the unanswered questions terrorized him regularly, and thenightmares were a weekly occurrence.
He wondered if mother and Jenna were experiencing the same thing.
They learned, like all people who have had a similar tragedy, themost difficult part was the lack of closure.
The last two years they struggled with what direction to takenext. Every time they were close to making a decision, they wouldreceive another call or visit. Although they would be left with no moreinformation, it would paralyze them from making a definitive move.
It was this cycle of continued trauma that was wearing down JuneJeffreys, and both Jason and Jenna feared for her emotional stability.
The calls themselves were fairly short. The visits, however, werevery traumatic for June Jeffreys. The questions were always the same,but with more intensity. The nature and direction of the questionsled Jason to believe there was much about his father's work the familyhad never understood ... or were never told.
The other point of peculiarity was that the visits were alwaysunexpected, the conversations were always recorded, and thehouse was thoroughly searched from top to bottom prior to thequestions. The visits always occurred with at least four USMP(United States Military Police) armed officers, who arrived in twoseparate vehicles. Each dark SUV, with tinted windows, displayedthe USMP insignia.
The whole ordeal seemed more like an interrogation than aneffort to help them solve the tragedy that had rocked the lives of theJeffreys family.
Most citizens had by now become accustomed to periodic patrolsby the USMP in various neighborhoods ever since their establishmentby the 44th Presidential administration. The USMP, an elite policeagency, was develop and advertised by the administration as necessaryfor strengthening homeland security. At the time of its conception in2010, the United States was still crawling back out of the deep recessionthat started with the housing bubble burst in 2008, the dramatic5000 point drop in the stock market during 2009, and the pandemicdevastation of the 2010 swine flu. Those Americans, who voted forand were committed to the ideals of the administration, felt that theinstantaneous creation of 500,000 new jobs was a brilliant move onthe part of the president. Others, however, including many politiciansthemselves, wondered why it was necessary to have 10,000 militarypolice per state and how exactly that would improve homeland security.Many of the baby boomers also recalled George Orwell's book "1984",and felt like this was a move towards a 'big brother' society. The otherpeculiarity for many Americans, and something that incensed evensome in the government was that this branch of the police answereddirectly to, and only to the president and the 'table of six'. With little tono check and balance and no other oversight than the oval office itself,many wondered to what end this branch was developed.
While such a new police agency and extension of the whitehouse with such authoritative power would normally never havebeen allowed by congress in other periods of U.S. history, it waspushed through rather quickly and easily in the wake of anotherfoiled terrorist attack in the spring of 2010. An attack that had itoccurred, was described by all agencies involved as an event thatwould have made the 911 attack look like 'child's play'.
This near event, so scared not only the American people, butall bodies and agencies of the US government, that many lost theirdemocratic perspective as to the principles on which the foundingfathers developed the country. It was hard to believe it had been 5 years.
While June Jeffreys had become used to the neighbors secretlytalking about why the USMP were frequently visiting their home,Jenna struggled more with the taunts from kids at school, and Jasonhad to deal with comments from co-workers.
It had become public perception after about 2-3 years of watchingthe USMP develop, that when they frequented your neighborhood,and specifically your home, you were either somehow involved in thegovernment, or you were in some kind of trouble; neither of whichthe general public wanted to be associated.
The Jeffreys knew that they were innocent of any illegal activity,so it created more questions as to what exactly James Jeffreys wasworking on in the days before the accident.
Being a middleclass family, living in a middleclass neighborhood,with a father who was a bioengineer certainly was not unusual,particularly in Washington State. Being surrounded by Boeing andMicrosoft families, the only thing Jason could figure that might haveset them apart was the fact that their Dad graduated from MITschool of engineering, and spoke with a slight Scottish accent. Withdeeper introspection, however, he realized that he had no idea exactlywhat his father had done for a living.
The one thing he did remember clearly though, is the time whenhe suggested following in his father's footsteps. To his surprise, hisfather's entire demeanor changed dramatically, almost to the pointof being frantic, as he suggested several other fields of study, wildlydifferent than those of his own.
When Jason was accepted to both MIT and Stanford shortlybefore the accident, his father seemed relieved that he chose to goto California over his own alma mater, something that perplexedJason greatly at the time. His father had arranged a trip soon after,just for the two of them, an event that had never occurred in the 18years of his life. Why they went on a remote back country hike forthe weekend was even more perplexing. His Dad, though very fit,hated backpacking. Jason figured it was a special 'sacrifice' for him,as he was an avid outdoorsmen, having spent many weeks in the backcountry with friends following a series of survival training camps hehad taken in junior high.
One particular four day trip, they headed deep into the northcentral Cascades. The only supplies they took were things theymight have if they were to crash in a small plane or get lost on aday hike. Jason himself had only 3 items that remotely reflectedoutdoors equipment; his hiking boots, a warm jacket, and a specialRambo style hunting knife. He faired quite well actually, fishingand trapping food, collecting water, and making shelter from theforest. His friends were quite impressed with his training andsurvival tactics. His parents, however, were less than excited aboutthis particular ambition.
The trip with his Dad, in comparison to his other adventures,resembled more of a Boy Scout camp trip. He didn't really mind, as thetime alone with his father was more important than the actual event.
He still struggled in his mind why they had gone so far fromcivilization, as his father seemed to have a particular agenda for thetrip. The overwhelming theme of their conversations was the courseof study Jason would be pursuing at Stanford. It wasn't until the endof the trip, and many suggestions from his father as to why his owncareer was a poor choice, that Jason started to talk about a differentline of work, and his father finally started to relax and seem to enjoythe last day.
The one thing Jason vividly remembered was a small capsule hisfather kept checking each day. It was a metallic looking device, aboutthe size of a tube of chap stick, and when manipulated by his fatherin a certain way, would emit a very faint beep.
At first Jason thought nothing of it, as his father was always workingon something new for his company. When specifically questioned,however, James Jeffrey's seemed distracted, babbled something aboutone of his experiments and would put the device away.
While perplexed, Jason didn't push the issue, as the point of theirtrip was to having some bonding time, not to create tension.
* * *
Jenna and Jason glanced at each other with increased concern asthe one way conversation was obviously distressing their mother intoa state of shock. Her previously flushed face was now drained of allcolor. At the beginning of the rather short phone call, she had taken astep back and leaned against the counter. A few seconds into the call,her legs started to shake and she held the receiver with both hands toavoid dropping the phone. A moment later, they noted a tear well upin the corner of her eyes and start to make its way down her cheek.
She nodded as if to acknowledge the callers information. At onepoint she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.
What in the world could be more distressing than the call shehad received two years before. Both of June Jeffreys parents had diedten years earlier and she had no living siblings, her sister dying fouryears earlier from cancer, and her brother had died in a car accidentin college.
James Jeffreys father was also deceased, his mother was in anAlzheimer facility, and they had been estranged from his two brothersfor the past 10 years or so, something neither Jenna nor Jason had yettotally understood.
As the two watched with increasing anxiety at the ever changingexpressions on their mothers face, she finally spoke into the phonefor the first and only time during the obvious one sided conversation.
"Yes, I understand," she said, her voice shaking.
As June Jeffreys replaced the receiver, she now turned to face hertwo children, almost having forgotten they were in the same room.
As their eyes met for the first time since the phone had rung,Jason struggled to read the emotion that she was experiencing.
Finally she spoke, ever so slowly as the words seemed to fightthere way out of her mouth. As she did, however, she looked aroundthe kitchen, almost as if looking for something.
"It's ... it was about your father," she stammered softly, almostchoking on the words.
"Is he?" Jason started, "Is he ..."
Before he could get the words out, June Jeffreys collapsed on thekitchen floor.
CHAPTER 2
WHERE AM I?
Opening his eyes for the first time in months, his pupils reactedviolently as they encountered the light. He closed them quicklyas the shock of the brightness sent pain reeling to the back of hishead. Moisture streamed down his face as the tear ducts responded tothe contracting of his pupils. Suddenly he was aware of every musclein his body. The inactivity had created a stiffness he had never feltbefore. Attempting simply to wiggle his fingers took the utmosteffort, as if trying to negotiate movement for the very first time.
Suddenly he was aware of the pain and tingling in his toes. As hetried to move his lower extremities, a wave of electric shocks movedfrom his lower back, down both legs into his heels.
Opening his eyes again, this time with only a squint, the lightpenetrated through the tiny slits of his lids, but with much lessintensity than before. The several minutes it took for the blurriness tostart to fade, seemed like hours as the long dormant muscles strainedto focus with clarity.
As his vision finally improved to a level of acceptable acuity,he realized he could barely move his neck to view his unfamiliarsurroundings. The room he occupied felt unusually 'sterile'. Therewere no windows, pictures, television, telephone, or other signs ofwarmth or modernization.
The bed he was lying in, however, was unlike any he had everseen. It resembled something from a futuristic science fiction movie.At the bottom of the bed were two rows of digital readouts. By thereadings he could see, it appeared that it was monitoring a series ofphysiologic functions. As a medical doctor, he recognized a bloodpressure, pulse rate, oxygen reading, what appeared to be weight,and then a number of other readings that were unfamiliar to him.
The railings surrounding the bed were unusually fancy for whathe suspected was some kind of a hospital bed. There were lightsrunning both longitudinally the length of the bed, as well as acrossboth top, bottom and radiating side to side every 12 inches. The lightsresembled something like you would expect to see on a laser level.
As he struggled to reach toward upward and broke the 'plane' inthe lights, a very faint beep occurred, almost imperceptible, but stillclearly audible.
As he moved his hands, he realized for the first time that he wasNOT touching the bed. He felt a very soft, but definitely strong andsteady force of air coming from below. He seemed to be levitatingabout 3 or 4 inches off the bed.
As he emerged further from the dense fog he felt slowly liftingfrom his mind, he shook his head, trying to see if he was dreaming.
The lightning bolts of pain radiating throughout his body remindedhim that he was indeed, awake, alive, and his pain receptors werefully functional.
Just then he heard a woman's voice coming from the bottom ofthe bed. It was soft and steady, but clearly computerized.
"Pain scale perceived," she said.
"Rating, 9 out of 10," she went on. "Medication indicated. Heartrate elevated at 157. Vital signs otherwise stable for immediateadministration."
Suddenly he felt a rush of warmth flow throughout his entire bodyfrom head to toes. The pain was instantly gone. He felt every muscle inhis body relaxing, and movement was now effortless and comfortable.
"Administration effective," reported the voice. "Hold further dosing."
Several lights blinked at the bottom of the bed. Some of thenumbers changed.
The voice continued. "Disengage AHS" (auto med hibernationsequence). Begin activation of manual DMI" (Direct MedicalInteraction).
'Hibernation'. The word echoed in his mind. 'What in the worldis this? A Zoo?' He thought humorously to himself, musing over thepossibility of being treated like an animal.
Suddenly that thought tripped a flood of words and thoughts.
Animal. Alamo. Animosity.
Wait ...
Allen, Alex ... Al. No Albert.
Albert? Albert who? Why does that name sound familiar? He thought.His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. For thefirst time since awakening, he became aware of the fact that therewas a door in the room. Turning his head slightly, he watched as itopened.
Entering through the door was a middle aged, smartly dressedwoman who carried herself like a well educated professional, yetsporting a uniform that resembled a cross between a paramilitaryand medical outfit. Both the pants and shirt sleeve were riddledwith button pockets. The outfit was well pressed, dark blue, withmauve colored rings on the sleeves and shoulder bars, suggestingsome kind of rank. Her shoes were more of a hiking type boot, butappeared to be without a speck of dust. She wore no hat, had nothingin her hands and approached the bottom of the bed directly as sheentered. Without saying a word she punched a series of buttons, andhe slowing felt himself descending until he gently touched the bedlike a feather landing.
His skin rippled with sensation at being stimulated by the sheets.Still he felt no pain, only the coolness of the cloth against his body.
"Who are you?" he suddenly blurted out. "And where am I?"
