Kelvin Kelley
BackTrek
IONized Publishing Group
BackTrek
By Kelvin Kelley
Published by IONized Publishing Group
Copyright 2015 Kelvin Kelley
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Ebook Edition
ISBN: 9781310545597
For my best friend and beloved wife, Charlotte.
“People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”
Albert Einstein
Chapter 1
“Shut it down!” The General yelled over the near deafening whine. Flustered, Dr. Morgan reached to initiate the emergency shut down sequence. The sleeve of his white coat caught on the lip of his coffee cup, and it fell onto the control keyboard. Sparks flew as he jumped back. “Shut it down, damn you!” General Atwater yelled again as he stared into the inner lab. Inside, Ted ran through the gaping hole in the machine as blue sparks swirled around the opening. Morgan stabbed uselessly at the smoking keyboard in a vane attempt to shut down the machine. His assistant stepped past him and snatched the keyboard connection loose from the control computer. He plugged another in, and began to bang out a sequence of instructions. Ted emerged from the swirling storm of arcing electricity, as he struggled to drag a lifeless figure down the ramp. The sparks behind him began to slow, as the pitch of the whine began to lower.
Atwater frantically punched at the door’s open button repeatedly. As he watched, Ted rolled the uniformed soldier onto his back, and checked for a pulse. Immediately he began C.P.R.
“Get this damn thing shut down, now!” Atwater yelled back at Morgan, who stood motionless, as he watched his assistant complete the shutdown commands. Ted gave the soldier mouth to mouth, and then continued with chest compressions. Behind him, the spinning machine slowed further, as the gaping hole began to slowly close in on itself. “Get the medics down here!” Atwater yelled, as the door in front of him finally opened. He burst through and ran to Ted and the fallen man. Ted stopped the compressions and once again forced air into the soldier’s lungs. Atwater began C.P.R. Behind them, the hole had closed completely and the revolving motion of the metallic plates on the machine had almost come to a stop when the medic crew finally arrived. Atwater and Ted moved out of the way as they took over.
“Damn it!” Ted said, as he turned away. After a quick check of the patient’s vitals, the soldier was loaded onto the gurney. One of the medics climbed up on top, and began chest compressions again as he straddled the unresponsive body. Ted turned back and watched after them as the gurney was wheeled out.
“Morgan! Get your ass in here!” Atwater yelled. The Doctor scrambled into the inner lab. The fear was evident on his expression. “What the hell happened?”
“Well, sir. It’s the same issues we’ve had. I assure you that I am working on the profile and that it-”
“Working on it? Have you lost your damned mind? Did you see what just happened? Did you see it?” Atwater screamed at him. Drops of spittle flew from his lips as he stepped up into the smaller man’s face. “That was my man! That was my soldier! That wasn’t an…an issue, you son-of-a-bitch! That was my man!” He stormed past the Doctor, and slammed his hand against the door jamb as he left. Ted remained at the bottom of the ramp.
“I thought I had it.” Morgan said to himself meekly. He looked up at Ted. “I thought I had it.”
“Tell that to Jones.” Ted said quietly. “And his family.” He shook his head, and walked calmly past the befuddled Doctor. He couldn’t believe that it had happened again. That another soldier had been affected. He still remembered all to well the last casualty on this God forsaken project. The last time he had seen Private Willis, he had tried not to notice the constant stream of drool that had hung from his chin, or his wide eyes that perpetually stared into oblivion. He had been glad when the nurse had finally told him that he had to leave. He couldn’t wait to get out of the psych ward that day. He glanced up at the assistant as he walked through the outer lab. “Thanks, Phillips.” The man looked up, and nodded, but his expression mirrored that of Ted’s. Failure and loss. “Keep an eye on him.” Ted said, as he nodded back towards the doctor. “We need him.” Phillips nodded.
He made his way to Atwater’s office, and was almost surprised when Atwater answered at his knock. He closed the door behind him and approached the standard military issue desk. Atwater sat behind it. A bottle of whiskey sat open next to him. Atwater drained the coffee cup in his hand, and poured more.
“A drink?” He asked. Ted shook his head. Atwater downed his cup again, and slammed it down on the desk. It shattered. Atwater glanced down at the cascade of broken shards, and in anger, swept them off the side of the desk. Ted remained silent. “How many is that?” Atwater asked.
“Six, sir.”
“Six.” Atwater said, the defeat in his voice evident. He looked up. “Six men, Truman. Six. Count them. Six.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t have any faith in that son-of-a-bitch.” Atwater said, as he rose from his chair.
“He’s trying, sir. He did recognize that the issue has been based on the psychological profile of the-”
“I don’t give a flying shit what he thinks he’s figured out, Truman. I care that my men are down. I care that because of his fuck ups, that I’ve got another fucking turnip on my hands. A fucking vegetable, Truman. A vegetable.” He turned away, and brought his hand to his face. “Where’s the dignity in that?” Suddenly he spun around. “A soldier dies with honor. A soldier lays his life on the line on the battlefield. A soldier fights for love of country. But these boys…” He turned away again. The emotion was evident in his voice.
“Sir?”
“What?” Atwater answered quietly. He took a deep breath, and turned back around.
“You know that Morgan is the only choice. You know that he’s the only one to ever have gotten as far as we’ve come. Sir…Steve…you know he’s the answer.”
“But to what end?”
“The last test produced verifiable results, sir. Verifiable and reproducible. No one has ever done that before, sir. No one.” Atwater sat back down, and nodded.
“But how many more men, Truman? How many more?”
“I don’t know, sir. But you’re the one who taught me…sometimes the end justifies the means.” Atwater looked up at him, and stared into his eyes for a few moments. His expression relaxed, though he did not say a word. “I know it works, sir. I’ve been through. I’ve been to the other side.”
Chapter 2