Defied, p.10
Defied, page 10
CHARU
Charu and Megan stared at the TV screen. Nonstop coverage of the company called X-Point and its owner, Doctor Lennon Hatch, was all over the news. GeoPorts, Warping, solar wind, teleportation, and electron diffusion regions were no longer topics limited to a handful of physic professors but were now a part of the entire world’s vocabulary.
“I’m Tom Melber, and welcome to the CBS San Francisco evening news,” the anchor said. “Science fiction is now science fact. In what may be the greatest scientific breakthrough in the history of mankind, Doctor Lennon Hatch—who some people are calling a genius and visionary—has invented a working teleportation device called a GeoPort.”
“Professors Jack and Tandala are the geniuses, you talking head!” Megan hollered at the screen. “Hatch is a lying scumbag thief!”
“And a kidnapper!” Charu added for good measure.
Tom turned to his co-anchor. “Taylor, how is the rest of the world handling the news of this unbelievable technology?”
“With optimistic concern,” Taylor said into the camera. “World leaders from around the globe have assembled in Brussels, Belgium, for a summit on Geographical Transportation and its potential impact on the global economy. Four permanent members of the UN Security Council—China, France, the Russian Federation, and the United Kingdom—have grave concerns that terrorists and other criminal organizations could use the technology. A handful of nonpermanent members have also expressed these concerns. These countries have officially put the brakes on allowing teleportation within their borders until they’ve completed more research.”
“This development has Doctor Lennon Hatch extremely angry,” Tom said. “During an interview with the Wall Street Journal earlier today, he warned those leaders that they will be left behind while the rest of the world charges into the future. He is the technology’s sole patent holder.”
Taylor smiled. “Yes, but Doctor Hatch is also an extremely successful hedge-fund manager. I’m sure his concerns are more on the financial end than over any moral issues that may arise.”
Megan flicked off the TV. “That’s it. Pinchole and his team have deciphered the notes.”
“What do we do now?” Charu asked.
“Pandora’s box is open, and we have to try to close it.”
Charu stood from the couch and walked around their six-hundred-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment in Palo Alto. The place belonged to a colleague of Megan’s named Clive Lewis who was on a yearlong sabbatical in Switzerland. Megan had made a panicked call to her friend after the two Pursuers had nearly captured her and Charu at the Varian Physics Building. Thankfully, her friend had said they could stay at his place. It was safe, and they hadn’t seen a Pursuer since.
A magazine with a full-page spread advertising GeoPorts was on the kitchen table. The official release date of the GeoPort X1, or simply the X1, was in two weeks. Preorders were fifty million and counting. Tens of thousands of people were already lining up at local retailers for their shot at one. They had set up tents and grilled hamburgers and hot dogs, waiting patiently as though it was one never-ending tailgate party.
“The world’s going mad,” Charu said. “One X1 per customer at the bargain price of forty-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars. That’s the price of a really nice car.”
Megan joined Charu at the table. “That’s the whole idea. Who needs a car when you can teleport? The stock prices for General Motors, Ford Motor Company, Toyota, and even Tesla have plummeted. The Doctor even started his own credit company, X-Point Credit, to help people with the financing. He’s raking in billions on every end.”
According to the ad, the costs were broken down into levels. Unlimited usage to Warp anywhere in the world started at three hundred thousand dollars per month. This plan was obviously for the über-wealthy oligarchs of the world. Permission to Warp in only one hemisphere was two hundred thousand per month. Warp travel within one single country was one hundred and twenty-five thousand. The cheapest plan—with a limited, seventy-five-mile Warp zone—was listed for the bargain price of one thousand per month.
“I know it isn’t possible, but I wish we could just go back to Wadi Rum and destroy the X-Point,” Charu said. “Without an X-Point, Geographical Transportation can’t exist.”
“You’re so right,” Megan said. “But without an X-Point, the whole world can’t exist. So there goes that idea.”
After weeks of working on a theory together, they had come up with four ways to destroy the GeoPort’s infrastructure. One was to break into the Doctor’s lab and sabotage the system. Another was to find a way to shoot down the satellites and space magnets that collected the electrons floating on the solar wind.
“Shooting down satellites and space magnets is obviously completely unfeasible,” Megan said.
“Unfeasible and only a temporary fix anyway,” Charu concluded. “The Doctor could easily shoot more satellites and magnets into space. He’d be up and running again in no time.”
Option three was much grimmer, but the chances of success were nearly one hundred percent. Since the GeoPorts operated only with Axel and Daisha’s DNA, the kids would have to die. Their bodies placed in such a way that exposure to the elements would cause rapid decay of the DNA.
“No way,” Megan said. “I’m not even entertaining that thought.”
The fourth option had the most potential but was not without great risks. Much the same way a password protects a computer file, they could permanently encrypt Axel and Daisha’s DNA using a something called a genome camouflage method. Biological geneticists from Stanford University had pioneered the method first used to identify genetic mutations in patients with rare diseases. The actual encryption involved hooking a patient up to an IV and flooding their bodies with a cloaking gene to de-identify the genetic sequence to anyone wanting to find it.
“The encryption could work,” Megan said, looking over her notes. “I know exactly how to do the procedure.”
“We’ve gone over the process so many times, I think I could perform the procedure,” Charu said, only half joking. “Where can we find the cloaking genes?”
“The Genetics Lab in the Alway Building. But first we have to find Axel and Daisha.”
“How did the Pursuers find us in Maine if only Axel and Daisha could operate the GeoPorts?” Charu asked.
“They used devices called trackers,” Megan said. “Sorry, I should have told you about them long ago.”
“Did these trackers take them through the Warp just like Axel and me?”
Megan explained how the Pursuers were only following Axel and Daisha through the Warp, which was a much simpler technology than setting the coordinates and traveling through themselves.
“Kind of like how a bloodhound uses his nose,” Megan said. “Have you ever heard of a scent hound?”
“Of course, they sniff out wild game and bad guys. My family had a Rajapalayam dog. The thing could sniff out a samosa vendor a mile away.”
“The trackers the Pursuers use are kind of like a technological scent hound. To use your example, a samosa vendor wheels his cart through the streets of Bhopal, leaving nothing but the yummy smell of deep-fried vegetables and spices drifting in the air. Your dog just follows those invisible scent particles. It can’t replicate the vender’s exact experience of wheeling his cart through the streets. Make sense?”
Charu nodded. “I guess so.”
“From working with Professors Jack and Tandala, I know exactly how Pinchole made them. In fact, I could’ve told him how to make them better. But I wasn’t about to give the man any constructive tips.”
Charu looked down at the laptop and up at Megan. “If you know so much about these trackers, couldn’t we make one to use for ourselves?”
“What are you getting at?” Megan questioned.
“If we had a tracker, we could sniff out where Axel and Daisha are right now. Or at the very least find out where the Doctor is keeping their GeoPorts.”
Megan’s eyes lit up. “Why didn’t I think of that before? Charu, you’re brilliant!”
“Does that mean we can make one?”
“Maybe. But we need lots of sensitive raw materials. All of which are under lock and key in the Varian Physics Building. Let’s go.”
Charu and Megan grabbed their jackets and raced out the door toward the Stanford campus.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DAISHA
After weeks of living inside a glass cage, Daisha knew exactly how Mango had felt. Mango was a bright-orange betta fish that had lived inside a bowl back at her old house in Palo Alto. The fish did nothing but eat and slowly circle the bowl, tail fin gently flapping.
Mango didn’t last a year. Daisha came home from school one day and discovered the fish drifting belly up on the bottom of the bowl. She hoped the same thing wouldn’t happen to her deep inside this windowless basement.
Daisha looked at Axel in the opposite cage. He was furiously pedaling on the virtual reality exercise bike. Something he did for hours each day. She figured that if Axel ever got out, he’d easily win the Tour de France bicycle race.
The ding of the elevator doors opening caught Daisha’s attention. She sat up and looked across the room. Life in the basement was so monotonous that someone from the outside simply using the elevator was cause for excitement.
“Where have you been?” Dylan asked as Sally stepped from the elevator.
“Doing a little shopping for Axel,” Sally said.
“What for?”
“The kid asked for art supplies a while ago. He’s been behaving lately, and we have to keep them busy.”
Sally was carrying a plastic bag and what looked like a toddler’s chalkboard and easel. Daisha sneered at the woman. She disliked Sally greatly. Not only for the bad food and cheek swabs multiple times a day, but also because of her smug smiles and pretentious air, as though she enjoyed keeping two fourteen-year-old kids under lock and key.
“I have something for you,” Sally said, rapping on Axel’s glass.
Axel looked up and hopped off the bike. His legs wobbled from pedaling. Daisha watched as Sally tied Axel’s wrists, feet, and waist. When he was secure, Sally opened the cage door. She set the easel on a table and dumped out what looked like a box of chalk, colored paper, glue, glitter, and a roll of tape.
“What’s that stuff for?” Daisha yelled, but she knew Axel could not hear her.
When Pinchole had first locked her in the cage, Daisha had spoken with Axel for hours through the glass. Regardless of their current circumstances, she loved spending alone time with him without Charu around. They’d reminisced about life before Pursuers, GeoPorts, and Warps. Only when she told him about Loosha’s betrayal did Sally and Dylan shut down their communication. Somehow, the two scientists managed to soundproof the glass walls between Daisha and Axel. The two could still see each other but could no longer hear the other’s voice. However, their captors’ words came in loud and clear.
Sally released Axel from his restraints. “Happy crafting,” she said, joining Dylan at the worktable.
Daisha scratched her head, a perplexed look on her face. What was with the art supplies? She had volunteered at a preschool the summer going into seventh grade. The kids were ages four and five and had used the same supplies for making macaroni art collages, construction paper cutouts, and handprint turkeys.
Axel looked at her through the glass and pumped his fists with excitement.
“What are you doing?” Daisha mouthed.
He raised one finger as if to say “hold on.”
She watched as he carefully picked up the garbage can next to his toilet and brought it to the table. He stared intently at the can, examining it like a jeweler hunched over a precious gem. He then took a piece of dark-blue chalk and aggressively scribbled on the easel. Every few seconds, he looked over his shoulder at Sally and Dylan. Daisha could tell he was checking to see if they were watching.
Chalk dust was everywhere. He scraped it into a pile and sprinkled the dust on the rim of the garbage can. Using his soft toothbrush, he gently wiped away the excess. His eyes lit up. He looked at Daisha and gave her the thumbs-up.
“You’re going stir-crazy!” Daisha shouted.
She watched Axel take a piece of tape and press it on the can, directly where he had sprinkled the chalk dust. After a moment, he lifted the tape and placed it on a sheet of construction paper. When Sally and Dylan stepped into the break room for lunch, Axel flew into action.
“What in the world is this boy doing?” Daisha wondered aloud.
Axel moved the tape from the garbage can to his index finger and ran to the opening in the glass, the same hole where Sally and Dylan delivered food and took cheek swabs. He stuck his arm through the opening, reaching for the fingerprint security pad. After stretching as far as his arm would physically allow, he transferred the tape to the pad.
The door popped open.
“You’ve figured a way out!” Daisha shrieked.
Axel ran to her cage, pressed the tape on the pad, and opened the door.
“Let’s go!” Axel ordered.
They ran to the elevator. Daisha pushed the up button. The doors parted, and they stepped inside. Just then, Sally and Dylan came tearing out of the break room.
“Stop!” Sally screamed, whipping out her cell phone to alert security.
Daisha pushed the button for the first floor. “Come on!” she screamed. “Get us out of here!”
They watched helplessly as Dylan charged in their direction. The man was bearing down on them fast. There was a loud ding, and the elevator doors began to close. At the last second, Dylan jammed his hand inside, causing the doors to reopen. He grabbed Axel and Daisha and dragged them back inside the basement.
“You two are going to pay dearly for this,” Dylan growled.
“Kiss your exercise bike goodbye—” Sally started to say when a massive explosion blasted all around them.
The noise was deafening in the confined space. The blast ricocheted off the concrete walls as though someone had fired a cannon. White smoke clouded the air, and a strong burning-hair smell filled Daisha’s nostrils. Dylan and Sally lay on the floor, mumbling and disoriented from the explosion. Axel looked shaken, but conscious and alert.
Two figures slowly emerged from the smoke.
“Charu and Megan!” Daisha cried.
Chapter Twenty-Five
LOOSHA
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Loosha asked.
“Please, take a seat,” the Doctor said from behind his expansive oak desk.
Loosha plopped down on one of the Doctor’s leather couches. Pinchole was sitting on the opposite end, typing away on a laptop. Loosha had been inside the Doctor’s office a few times, and its opulence never ceased to amaze him. There were wall-to-wall bookcases, stained glass windows, a gold chandelier, and even a tiger-skin rug stretched out on the floor. Several mounted heads of animals—such as moose, elk, black rhinoceros, and tiger—hung from the walls, all trophies from the Doctor’s hunting excursions around the globe.
“They’re still playing hardball,” Pinchole said, looking up from his computer.
An angry, impatient look washed across the Doctor’s face. “Are you talking about the German chancellor?” he growled.
“Not only her, but the presidents of Russia, China, and France, as well as the UK prime minister,” Pinchole said. “We’ve offered them the world, and they still refuse to allow Geographical Transportation into their countries.
“What do the public polls say over there?” the Doctor asked.
Pinchole laughed. “Ha! Their people are desperate for the technology. I mean, what French multimillionaire wouldn’t love to Warp from Paris to Monaco in seconds?”
“Or from Warsaw to the beaches of Leba,” Loosha said, remembering where he had spent many summers with his grandparents as a child.
“Where’s Leba?” Pinchole wondered.
Before Loosha could answer, the Doctor flung his cell across the room in a fit of rage. The iPhone smashed against a wall and cracked into pieces. Kari, the Doctor’s secretary, rushed into the office to see if everything was okay. She took one look at the Doctor’s annoyed expression and quickly backed out of the room.
“I can’t believe the president of Russia is resisting this!” the Doctor roared. “His government is more corrupt than a crooked poker game. He’s losing millions of dollars!”
“He’s a strongman,” Loosha said. “Those types of people lust for power over people more than money.”
“Loosha’s right,” Pinchole said. “They don’t want to lose control of the population. Geographical Transportation does exactly that.”
The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh. “They’re standing in our way,” he said, pacing the room. “Do you know how long I’ve been schmoozing these people? I don’t want any other countries, including our own, getting cold feet.”
Daisha popped into Loosha’s mind. She and Axel were inside this very building, wasting away inside glass cages while Pinchole’s scientists swabbed their DNA. He had wanted to check on her, but the Doctor only allowed authorized personnel in the basement labs. Any violation of this rule would result in serious consequences. And Loosha knew very well that when the Doctor gave an order, the man meant business.
“We should just get rid of them,” the Doctor said.
“Get rid of whom?” Pinchole asked.
“The leaders of Russia and those other countries.”
Pinchole rolled his eyes. “With all due respect, sir, we can’t waltz across the ocean and haul them away.”
“Sure we can,” the Doctor said. “That’s why I wanted to see Loosha.”
“Huh?” Loosha asked.
“Here’s what I need you to do,” the Doctor explained. “Send two men through the Warp, grab the countries’ leaders, and Warp back here. We can Warp in and Warp out in a snap.”
“Are you trying to say to abduct whoever stands in our way?” Pinchole asked. “Even the leaders of entire countries?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” the Doctor said.
