Cyber Teen Project

Chapter 11

Alexander walked into the official research and development corridor of Pretzelverse Games for updates on the pet tracker project. He confronted the first person he saw.

“Hey, who’s in charge here?”

“Who are you?” asked the technician.

“I’m Alexander Vandervoss, your boss!” Alexander snatched a glance of the name tag hanging from the technician’s belt. “So, what do you say, Jackson?”

“Yes, please follow me, Sir!”

Alexander followed the technician down a series of hallways. Each major research area had thick glass walls that stretched from floor to ceiling in most areas. Most of the rooms contained technicians that were dressed in lab coats, and some had bio suits. Jackson abruptly stopped at a door marked, RESTRICTED—AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY, in large red letters.

“Try your badge, Sir.”

Alexander waved his access card; the reader returned a loud audible beep and a red light flashed.

“Wait here, Sir.”

“Why can’t I go in?”

“It’s your own rule, Sir, no tailgating.”

Jackson used his badge to enter the restricted area and left Alexander to his thoughts. Alexander gained a little more respect for Jackson for challenging him to use his badge at the restricted lab. Alexander considered stepping up Security Awareness training.

A few minutes later, a rather tall man in a cowboy hat greeted Alexander in the hallway.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Vandervoss. I’m Ron Allison, head of laboratory control.”

The two men briefly shook hands. Ron motioned for Alexander to follow him.

“I think you might be more comfortable in my office,” Ron said.

Alexander followed Ron down a few more hallways before Alexander entered a very sparse office. Except for several diplomas, Ron had no personal possessions in the office.

“That is quite the accent,” Alexander said. “American south?”

“No, Sir. It is Texan.”

Alexander examined the diplomas and noticed that Ron held a bachelor’s degree in bioengineering from the University of Southern California and a master’s in transgenics from the University of Texas.

“California for undergraduate and Texas for master’s?”

“I’ve been interested in biology since my first frog dissection in junior high. I wanted the best education that I could afford,” Ron said proudly. “I graduated summa c*m laude from UCLA, and from there got the attention of other universities around the country. I chose the University of Texas at Austin to be closer to family. I’m originally from Abilene, but I figured Austin was in the same state at least.”

summa c*m laude“If that’s the case, how did you make your way to us here in Munich?” Alexander asked.

“My son is stationed in Germany. He brought his family here, so if I want to see him more than once a year… Hey, you didn’t come to have me yammer on about my education. How can I help you?” Ron asked.

Alexander was fascinated by Ron’s background, as he knew few Americans with such dedication to their education, but he did have more important things to do.

“I came down to get a status on the pet tracker.”

“When I saw that press release, I knew there would be trouble.”

“Trouble? Please elaborate,” Alexander said.

“I’m afraid we are still years off from execution of the pet restoration phase of the project. I mean, we have perfected the DNA acquisition process, but the restoration—or ‘cloning’ phase, as some would call it—needs a lot more work. I know the marketing department wants to capitalize on our work because I saw the preliminary marketing materials available on the Verse.”

“Those are in development. You weren’t supposed to see that yet!” Alexander said.

“Well, I think we have a permissions problem. If you don’t want me in something, then I shouldn"t have access to it,” Ron said in a matter-of-fact voice. “I check the Verse daily for news about the company. I assumed that is why we have an intranet to begin with.”

“You have a point, Ron, but rumor has it that you have successfully cloned at least one animal.”

“At a great cost.”

“How long did the animal last?”

“Only a few days. Even if we figure out a way to fully restore the animal, the actual cost is prohibitive for the average person.”

“How much?” Alexander demanded.

“Well over $50,000 per animal. It is much safer and more feasible to restore them in a virtual world. That was the original plan,” Ron said. “Cloning in the real world is a more recent development. I had planned to include all of these details in my monthly report, but your personal visit preempted that.”

“I need you to provide daily reports of your progress directly to me from now on!”

“What’s the rush? We are moving as fast as we possibly can with my current staff and funding levels. We will get there in due time.”

“Would it help if I could bring in another geneticist?”

“Yes, but certain tests just take time to complete. Our computers are simply not capable of running any faster.”

“Let me worry about getting you faster equipment. You will have the geneticist by the end of the week,” Alexander said. “Carry on. I will not take any more of your time,” he finished as he left Ron’s office in a hurry, leaving Ron to wonder how it was possible.

* * *

Alexei Breven sat in his subterranean office below the cottage. He pulled up The Collective’s problem dashboard, which consisted of a listing of eliminations that were pending. Paid eliminations or threats to business operations had the highest priority. Alexei pressed the intercom button.

“Please send in Ioann.”

A tall, physically-fit, middle-aged man appeared.

“Privyet, Alexei.”

“How are you, my old friend?”

“I’ve been keeping occupied with some freelance work, which has been drying up in recent years. Not many have need for an old fixer like me.”

“Well, I asked you here because I do have need of your services. There is something off about the organization,” Alexei said. “I will pay double your normal rate. I need someone I can trust to take care of some wet work.”

do “I’m wrapping up a job now but can be available in a few days. Is that okay?”

“Yes, that should be fine.” Alexei threw a rather large envelope in Ioann’s direction. “This is a sign-on bonus. From now on, I’m your only client.”

* * *

“Call in the interns,” Alexei barked into the intercom.

Within minutes, Viktor received a call from dispatch.

“What is tollsgate?” the voice of the unknown dispatcher asked.

“It is a bridge,” Viktor replied with the code word of the day.

The dispatcher confirmed that the code was correct, then demanded to know his present location.

“Just left American airspace, approximately 300 miles off the coast of Maine. Estimated arrival time in Minsk is ten hours with the Glider,” Viktor said.

“Establish the Farstahl protocol.”

Viktor had approximately forty-eight hours to initiate the Farstahl protocol before the boss came calling on him. Viktor put down the drink he was enjoying. Time to get to work.

Viktor headed toward the rear of the jumbo jet that was part of The Collective’s private fleet. There were two compartments in the rear of the jet for storage and communications. Viktor opened the storage compartment and saw Len, bound to a sleeping bed. Viktor could never sleep on planes; lying down on them always gave him nausea. He hoped Len was feeling nauseous.

“Enjoying your accommodations, Comrade?” Viktor said with a smile on his face.

“Who are you?” Len demanded.

“I’m the UPS driver, here to deliver a very important package to a very important customer. Now go back to sleep,” Viktor said as he shot Len with another tranquilizer dart.

Viktor made sure that the package was secure, then shut and locked the compartment door. He entered the communications compartment. A barren desk and a seat attached to the floor were the only pieces of furniture. Viktor felt along the side of the desk and found the button that opened the compartment just in front of the desk. Viktor took the laptop out of the compartment, powered it on, and connected it to the nearest satellite. Viktor followed the instructions for the Farstahl protocol, then put the equipment away and returned to his drink.

* * *

Natasha located Bobby"s Bar, a local haunt of Senator Wilson’s. Natasha thought it was incredible how much cooperation a pretty woman got when she wore revealing clothing and tipped the bartender well.

After some discreet questioning, Natasha was able to determine that Senator Wilson was known to visit the bar on the second Tuesday of each month, which happened to correspond with Alice Wilson’s monthly charity events.

Natasha observed the senator in action for about thirty minutes before she was approached.

“What is your name?”

“Gretchen,” Natasha answered.

“What a lovely name!”

Natasha gave the senator an inviting smile.

“Scott is my name. I’m important in this town,” Senator Wilson slurred.

During their conversation, Natasha palmed a small flask which contained a sweet-smelling perfume. Natasha was careful to dab a small amount of the perfume on her left index finger as the senator approached. As he turned his head, she put her left hand on Senator Wilson’s face, then quickly grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him. For a brief moment, he looked dazed.

“Wow, that was great. What can I do for you?”

“Do you want to do something for me, Darling?” Natasha teased.

“Anything!” Wilson exclaimed.

“Give me your wallet!”

Senator Wilson reached for his wallet and handed it to her. Natasha briefly looked through the wallet and found some pictures of his wife.

“Who is this?”

“No one important. Do you want to get out of here?” Senator Wilson asked.

“Thought you would never ask,” Natasha said in a playful tone.

The two of them left the bar and headed for Natasha’s playhouse.

* * *

Nigel got the email early the next morning. The timestamp confirmed the message was sent before 3 a.m. It was from Collective Systems and was titled: A secure message awaits you. Nigel followed standard decryption practices. He needed to know the contents of the message before leaving for school. If it took too long, he figured he could skip a shower.

The message read:

Greetings Nigel,

I hope this note finds you well. As promised in your information package, your first assignment awaits. Reply with your acceptance if you wish to proceed with the assignment and details will be sent. You have the option to decline if the timing isn’t convenient. You have twelve hours to respond.

Nigel didn’t have to think long. He quickly typed, “I accept,” then clicked the send button. It took several minutes, but he received a confirmation email instructing him to view the details on the Collective Systems app.

Crap, I forgot to install the app, Nigel thought. He didn’t have time to install it now; it would have to wait until after school.

Crap, I forgot to install the app,* * *

Ralphie was late for breakfast. He hadn’t been his usual self since the incident with Jake. Ellen was worried about him. At least Nigel was also more reliable!

At least Nigel was also more reliable!“How you doing, Honey?” Ellen asked.

“Fine. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Jake won’t be bothering you again,” Nigel said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I talked with Jake. He promised to leave you alone.”

Ralphie visibly perked up. “Oh, before I forget, I found this in my backpack.”

Ralphie showed Nigel a small black disc. Nigel examined it closely. He remembered Milo talking about these once. This is a tracking module, Nigel thought.

This is a tracking module, “Do you know what it is?”

“I don’t, but I know who does!”

“Milo?”

“Yeah, we are going to hang out after school. I will ask him about it then.”

* * *

Alexei was awakened to an urgent call from Viktor.

“The package has been delivered. When do you want to receive it?”

“Immediately. I will leave now.”

Alexei arrived at the containment area under the cottage where Collective detainees were kept. Upon opening the door, Alexei was hit with a rather unpleasant smell emanating from the package.

“Thank you for delivering the package, Viktor. Did you put the task into motion?”

“Yes, it is done. We received acceptance, and we are awaiting a response.”

“Check for confirmation of delivery of assignment in another twelve hours to account for time-zone differences.”

Viktor resumed his position at the door while Alexei got a closer look at the package. Len sat with swollen slits where his eyes were supposed to be, staring into the space in front of him. Alexei could hear short jagged breaths.

“What is the matter with him? Why are his eyes swollen shut?”

“Reaction from the tranquilizers. The doc administered medicine and said that he will be fine.”

“You probably gave him too much. I need him alive and well,” Alexei barked.

Alexei pulled a chair closer to Len; he wanted to savor the moment.

“Who are you people, and where am I?” Len asked in a weak voice.

“You are our guest,” Alexei said. “I need for you to answer some questions. If I’m satisfied with the answers and you agree to our terms, then I will let you go. Is that acceptable?”

Len made a grunting sound, then nodded in agreement.

“Great! I’m looking forward to spending some quality time together.” Alexei let out a chuckle.

Alexei walked across the room, found a very sharp knife, then cut Len’s restraints. “No need for that! You are a guest in my cottage, and I want you to feel at home,” Alexei said with a mocking tone. “Please give me your full name, email address, and home address.”

Len choked when reciting his ZIP Code. “Water, please,” he said in a soft voice.

“Oh! How rude a host I am. Viktor, fetch our guest a glass of water.”

Alexei gave Len several minutes to recover before the questioning resumed. It took several hours, but Alexei was able to obtain all relevant details of the Dark Glider project.

“I believe you have given me all the information?” Alexei asked.

Len nodded in response.

“See to our guest’s comfort. We will resume after the verification process is complete.” Alexei headed for the door.