Rise of the Beast (48 page)

Nevertheless, some of his technicians came from the ranks of the converts. They were certainly a strange bunch, not very talkative to be sure. They seemed almost two-dimensional. Les didn’t know how else to describe it.

Then there were the others, Lusan’s people. They were even stranger, really cold. They were scientists and engineers, accountants and procurers, administrators and security people. The director of this project was one of them, Malnar. Not doctor or mister, just Malnar. He acted nice enough, though Les got the feeling that an act was all it was. He was all business, that one. In him there was a total absence of the social graces. He stayed clear of the other scientists and engineers outside of the workplace, yet he was positively brilliant. He had a level of insight into the topic of space-time the likes of which Les had never seen.

As for the other scientists and engineers, they’d become almost like family. Les figured that their isolation from the rest of the world had a tendency to do that. They were allowed to make phone calls to the outside world. They had email and satellite television, too. Still, they were ever mindful that they were working in a high-security facility. In email and on the phone they had to choose their words carefully. Everything they said might be monitored.

Lusan’s people were pretty strict when it came to security. A month ago, an engineer had gotten into hot water after just mentioning the project in an email to his girlfriend back in Russia. Word was that he’d been reassigned to the other side of the island as a maintenance technician for the facility’s computer network. That had to be a letdown after working on cutting-edge technology here. It had been a shot across everyone’s bow. Everyone here was exceptionally careful about what they said to outsiders after Sergei had been escorted out of the facility by Lusan’s security guards. The fact that big brother was watching was the only downside in paradise.

It was just before 11 that same evening. Les and his good friend Nabuko Yamura were sitting on his second-floor balcony staring out at the southern stars, each with a glass of red wine. Amidst the isolation of this island they had become kindred spirits. Nabuko was from Sapporo, on Japan’s Hokkaido Island. She was a 45-year-old electrical engineer, and like Les, was alone after the death
of her husband three years ago. They often met out here on the balcony for a nightcap or gazed at the stars through his telescope. Tonight found them talking shop, pondering a world with no energy crisis where transport from one place to another was virtually instantaneous.

Nabuko was speaking of the impact on the transportation industry when she suddenly went silent. She stood up, gazing out into the darkness. “Did you hear that?” she asked.

Les rose to his feet as well, standing at her side. “What did you hear, Nabuko?”

“I thought I heard a scream,” she replied. “It sounded like a woman. It was coming from over there in the compound.”

From the veranda, the compound was just visible, far to the right. It was tough for Les to make out from this distance, but something was going on.

There was another scream. It sounded like a cry for help. This time Les heard it. “What in Sam Hill is going on over there?” he murmured. He looked toward his telescope, which sat in the corner by the railing.

He rushed over to it and trained it toward the compound. In all of the time he’d been here, he’d rarely used it for terrestrial purposes. He’d always figured that what went on over there was their business, religious business.

It didn’t take long for him to focus in on the source of the commotion, which seemed to be at the central building of the compound, the place they called the chapel. In reality it didn’t look much like a chapel. It was a positively huge block building with few windows. It looked more like some sort of blockhouse. There was a young woman running away from it in this direction. The source of her distress soon became obvious. She was being pursued by no fewer than six of Lusan’s guards.

“What’s going on, Les?” asked Nabuko.

“I’m not sure,” said Les. “Take a look for yourself.”

Nabuko gazed through the small telescope. “What are they doing over there?” she gasped. She turned the eyepiece turret, zooming in on the scene. A second later, a spotlight from atop the chapel was directed at the poor woman. She tried to get out of the light, but it followed her.

About a minute later, the woman reached the fence. She tried to climb over
it, but she didn’t have time. The guards were on her before she was over the top. She screamed as they took her by the arms.

By now, Les was at the telescope again. “My God, they’ve handcuffed her!” he exclaimed. “They’re dragging her back to the chapel, and she’s not going quietly.”

“What should we do?” asked Nabuko, coming back to the eyepiece again.

“I don’t know,” admitted Les. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

A few minutes later, they led her back through the door of the chapel, still kicking and screaming. Then there was silence once more. Les looked around, to see if anyone else had witnessed what they had just seen. It looked like they were alone out here.”

“What are we going to do?” repeated Nabuko. “We’ve got to tell someone.”

“Who?” asked Les.

“I don’t know,” replied Nabuko.

“Neither do I,” said Les, who noticed that the searchlight was moving outward toward them. “Quick, we need to get inside, right now.”

Les turned the telescope away from the compound and, along with Nabuko, rushed inside. They closed the sliding glass door and drew the drapes nearly closed. Not 15 seconds later, the searchlight swept across their now vacant balcony.

“They wanted to know if anyone had seen what they’d done,” said Les, looking through the slit in the drapes. “The light went right past us. I don’t think we were seen.”

“We can’t call security,” said Nabuko.

“Those are the last people we’d want to call,” said Les. “For the moment, I think we’d better stay quiet about what we just saw. We can’t tell anyone. We don’t know what’s going on. There may be a perfectly reasonable explanation for what we just saw.”

Nabuko looked out of the sliding glass door just in time to see the spotlight go out. For a moment she seemed deep in thought. “Les, when was the last time you saw Sergei Urbanoff?”

Les had to think on that one. “I know that they moved him out of the resort when they demoted him. I heard he lives with the other workers on the far side of the compound. I don’t think I’ve seen him since they escorted him out. Why?”

“I only know of one person who claims to have seen him,” said Nabuko. “And she said she saw him working in a ditch down near the main well. He was shoveling dirt. They hollered at him, but he didn’t even respond. Now, answer me this: what would an electrical engineer be doing digging a trench?”

“Putting in network cables?” asked Les.

“Not there,” said Nabuko. “It made me wonder just what they had done to him. Look, he was in my department. I can tell you, he wasn’t the sort that you’d find digging a trench.”

Les just shook his head. He didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t like the sound of what Nabuko was inferring.

A minute later, Les heard heavy footsteps in the hallway. He cautiously made his way to the door and gazed through the peep hole. He was surprised to see two of Lusan’s guards walk past the door. He was relieved when they kept right on going.

Two minutes later, he heard voices in the hall, then the heavy footsteps. The security guards walked past his door once more, only this time they had someone walking between them. Les walked back toward Nabuko.

“They just took Al Peltzer down the hallway,” whispered Les, “and he looked pretty shook up.”

“What should we do?” asked Nabuko.

“I don’t know,” admitted Les. “I’m out of ideas.”

“Maybe Administrator Karr could help?” said Nabuko.

Les shook his head. “Aldo Karr is in charge of this island. Do you really believe all of this is happening without his knowledge? I don’t think so. I suspect he’s the one behind it all.”

Nabuko nodded, but said nothing.

Les hesitated. “Look, I’d really like for you to stay the night with me. It’s not safe out there, at least not now.”

“I’d like that,” said Nabuko. “Thank you, Les.”

“I couldn’t bear anything happening to you,” said Les. “I’ll sleep in here on the couch.”

“You don’t need to do that,” insisted Nabuko, “I don’t bite.” Les chuckled. “We’ll figure something out.”

The rest of the night passed without incident, and eventually, both Les and Nabuko got a good night’s sleep. It was pleasant not to be sleeping alone.

Both Les and Nabuko were relieved to see a weary-eyed but otherwise healthy Al Peltzer drag into work the next day. He went on and on about being practically dragged out of his quarters and questioned by security for falling asleep on his balcony.

“The sound of the waves crashing on the beach at the bottom of the hill always puts me to sleep,” he said. “I’ve spent many a night out there on the balcony. I don’t know why they were so upset this particular time. They finally said something about mosquitoes and a concern for the health of the scientists and engineers and let me go.”

Neither Les nor Nabuko commented on what they had seen. But the events of that night had them both scared. Nabuko spoke of beginning her own investigation into the matter, though she declined to comment just what that investigation might entail.

It was five nights later that Nabuko showed up at Les’s quarters with a small modified FM radio. It didn’t look out of the ordinary. She’d brought it with her from Japan. Still, it was unique.

“When these two buttons are pressed in sequence, it can receive and unscramble the radio traffic between Lusan’s security people,” said Nabuko. “I’ve been listening to them for the past three nights. What I’ve heard has been enlightening and frightening.”

She placed the receiver on the dining room table and switched it on. At first, all they heard was a weak radio station out of Fiji. Then by making a minor adjustment, they were hearing the back and forth communications between
Lusan’s people. It was routine for the most part, security patrols checking in at regular intervals.

“I’ve heard them talk about a ritual held at the chapel,” said Nabuko. “They call it the union. I still don’t know exactly what it is, but it is conducted late at night. They do it to their religious converts, usually just a few days before they leave to begin their ministry in the world beyond the island. It might be some kind of brainwashing procedure. I don’t know how else to describe it. I believe that the young woman who was trying to climb the fence last week was about to undergo that ritual. I suppose that she liked her brain the way it was.”

“It all sounds like something out of a B grade movie,” said Les, who still seemed focused on the back and forth chatter over the radio. “This place must have more than one kind of mad scientists.”

“Did you know that there is a cavern below the chapel?” asked Nabuko.

That caught Les by surprise. “No, I didn’t.”

“It must be quite large, from what I’ve heard,” said Nabuko. “There is a lot going on down there, and it doesn’t sound all that pleasant. They have created some sort of underground lake or pool within it, and I don’t think it’s a pool of water.” Nabuko paused. To Les, she seemed a bit agitated. “Les, I want out of here. I’m scared. They talk about us, too. I don’t think they much like us. No, I know it. We are a necessary evil to them. When we complete our work for them, we will be a liability. They don’t trust us. I don’t think they want the world finding out about this project.”

“I thought that we were doing this for the good of the world,” replied Les. “That was the main point in that grand recruitment speech we all got.”

“What I’m hearing makes me doubt their sincerity,” said Nabuko. “When they finish with us, we may all end up facing the union. I believe Sergei already has.”

That didn’t sound good. “So what do we do?” asked Les.

“I don’t know,” admitted Nabuko. “I am really torn. I don’t think they’ll do anything to us soon. We will be useful to them for quite a while, I think. Anyway, I might be reading this all wrong. I need to listen to their radio chatter, get a better idea what the story is.”