Alex Q - The Becoming

The agent holding the gun kept his eyes on Karen while his partner relieved Nate of his bag.

“Let me help you with that, Dr Taylor.”

“I didn’t hear the door, Nate. When I turned around, they were inside.”

Nate moved over to Karen’s side with his palms held open at shoulder height in response to the waving gun barrel.

“Our orders are to take no chances with you. Our boss thinks it’s important, so it’s important for us too. Secure them.”

The second agent slipped a looped nylock security bracelet over Nate’s hands and pulled tight, pinching the skin on his wrists. He was relieved to see he wasn’t quite so rough with Karen. Quickly patting them down for concealed weapons, the agent stepped away to stand with his partner.

The talker continued, moving closer now they were restrained. “Let me tell you how this works. You’re going to walk in front of us across the street to where we have a car waiting. I’m sure I don’t need to say it, but I will anyway. Make any sudden moves or try to run off, and I promise you will never move again.”

“Jeez, do they use old B movies to train you guys?” Nate asked. A knee came up from nowhere, sinking into his solar plexus, driving the breath from of his lungs. He sank to the floor, gasping for breath.

“Quite the joker, aren’t we? Is that easier for you to understand? I would’ve thought scientists were smarter than that. Get up.”

Nate staggered to his feet, breathing heavily, and they left the apartment, trailed by the suits. His mind was working frantically to come up with a way out of their situation but was coming up with blanks. A couple, neighbors of Nate’s, passed the group on the way out of the building and were brusquely informed it was agency business. A brief glimpse of a government ID sent them scurrying away, satisfied the agents had things under control.

In the street outside the lobby, a local police sergeant Nate was acquainted with nodded to the agents and then looked the other way. When a few yards away from the black sedan, Nate’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t think of a damn thing to do except get in and do exactly as they said.

Nate and Karen stared through the bullet-proof glass separating them from the agents in the front seat. The panel slid down, and the agent holstered his gun. “Wasn’t too hard, was it? No need for this now, I guess. You take it easy, and we’ll get you there in no time.”

“Where is there exactly?” Nate asked.

“Oh, Mr Boyd wants to see you two again real bad.”

He pressed the button to replace the screen and turned to the front, tapping the dashboard with his fingers. “Let’s go.”

The other agent looked over at his partner, calmly raised a silenced Colt .38 and shot him in the side of the head. He quickly, but without rushing, unscrewed the silencer, placed it in his jacket pocket and returned the gun to his shoulder holster. Pushing the dead agent away from him, he turned once and winked at his open-mouthed passengers. Checking the rear mirrors, he engaged traffic control and the Ford pulled smoothly away from the curb.

“Folks ask me why I use a Colt. Y’know, most folks think a silencer is a magical thing, stopping all the sound, James Bond style, but I’m here to tell you it ain’t true. With a Colt the bullet chamber’s enclosed, y’see; the sound of the explosion can’t get out. Take an automatic, well, with an automatic the chamber opens to let the shell casing pop out, and guess what? Yep, you got it; makes a hell of a noise. No, sir, it is not like you see in the movies.”

He stopped the car a mile along the road and spoke into the dash. “Agent Peters, with a message for dispatch. Auto-destination memory must have got scrambled, Dynoglyde Beta 35. Stationary while downloading updates. ETA delay approximately five minutes.” Voice activating the download sequence, he turned to the rear seat and addressed them both in a pleasant Texas drawl. “I’m real sorry ’bout that, folks.” He cut the restrainers and threw two more nylock straps onto the seat between them, looped and wrist-ready. “You better replace those, and make ‘em a little bit looser this time. Not too much, mind, just enough so you’re not hurtin’. I had to make it look real good in there, in case he got suspicious.”

“You can tell us what the hell is going on before I do anything,” Nate said, rubbing his wrists.

A steak-sized hand came over the top of the seat. “You can call me Tex, Dr Taylor. Everybody else does. No real names, no pack drill. It’s best not to know too much about me.”

“If not knowing much is a good thing, I’m truly blessed.”

“Who are you and where are you taking us?” Karen asked.

Tex smiled a broad smile. “Where is easy. To Cybertronix, as ordered.”

“For Christ’s sake, you killed a man in cold blood,” Nate said, looking at the crumpled body slumped in the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” he said, sucking his teeth, “ Let me tell you somethin’; it’s not the first guy I’ve helped open a worm farm, an’ it surely won’t be the last. Had to pop ‘im, some of these boys are just too big to rassle.” Catching Nate’s look he added, “Hey, it’s what I do. And if you knew this bastard’s history you wouldn’t be so sorry. There’s plenty of nooses hangin’ in his family tree, believe me. Sorry you had to witness it close up, though, I truly am. I know some folks are downright sensitive ‘bout that kind o’ thing. Inside one of their own cars is one of the few places without surveillance; I had no choice. Besides, the windows are tinted real heavy.”

“Who are you?” Karen pressed.

“Weeell. That’s a little complicated. Let’s say I’m one of the few men the President trusts.”

“The President? Of the United States?”

“I don’t mean my local bowling club, ma’am. Friends, time’s a-wastin’. We need to get back to Boyd, deliver you up an’ string him along until we can stop him an’ his sonovabitch boss.”

“What if we preferred fending for ourselves? We might be better off,” Nate said.

Tex raised his eyebrows considering, and then flipped a switch. “There’s the door, folks; be my guest, but I guarantee you’ll be either dead or in the custody of the real bad guys within thirty minutes.”

Nate sought confirmation from Karen, who nodded slightly. He pulled the door closed. “OK. You’ve got our attention. Let’s go.”

On the way to Cybertronix, Tex told them he had a background in special ops, but he wasn’t too specific. His father was an ex-soldier turned senator who had “saved the President’s ass” more than once’ during active service in the European Refugee Wars in ’29.

According to the Texan, Clayton B. James was a tough old cookie who would play poker with the Devil, but was so honest you could play dice with him over the phone. “Throws a mean left hook too, according to Pop.” Tex told them how he was inserted into Agency Security months before and reported only to President James, without saying how.

“Yes, sirree, Boyd and his boss are as crooked as a barrel of fish hooks.”

“The President doesn’t trust his own Secretary of State?” Nate asked.

“Picket wouldn’t scratch his own mama’s fleas. President James keeps his enemies close, where he can keep them under control without them knowin’ it. Boyd, on the other hand, was born with the agency regulations stuck up his ass. He’s as smart as a hootie owl, mind, just don’t know any better.”

“What’s the Special Agent mean?”

“Old Boydy is one of you guys. Real good with computers, top of his field, so I read. He’s a specialist in military AI. Ring any bells?”

“What about you, Tex? Where do you stand in all this?” Karen asked.

“I do whatever the President orders me to do. That’s good enough for me. I’m a professional soldier, ma’am. I’ll do the best for my country or die tryin’,” he said, with no trace of a smile.

“So what happens now?” Nate asked.

“We go back in. I hand you over to Boyd, who’ll be like a cat with a lump of cheese. You play him along, work out what he’s plannin’ to do, and when we have hard evidence implicating Picket, I’ll move in. The President goes public, Picket to hard labor, you two go to the front of the queue for a hero’s medal, an’ I disappear. What can go wrong?”

“You make it sound slick as a whistle,” Karen said in her best Texan drawl.

“Whooeee,” Tex laughed. “This gal’s got some snap in her garters an’ no mistake.”

“Yeah, she sure does,” Nate agreed, “She surprises me constantly.”

Secretary Picket was not pleased. “You let them escape? You’re seriously telling me they walked out of a building swarming with agents? Let me ask you this, are you sure you’re capable of completing this mission, Special Agent Boyd?”

“I completely understand your annoyance, sir, but Dr Taylor is proving to be resourceful. He’s a natural rebel and tends to think outside the box, as it were. It was a momentary lapse in security.”

“But they’re secured again?”

“They have been apprehended by agents and are being brought here to Cybertronix as we speak. What are your instructions?”

“The first one is that you don’t lose sight of them again. Is that perfectly clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There are no further instructions yet in relation to our real program. The plan’s still in force but on hold. Something’s happened. It’s way beyond your security clearance, but I’m gonna tell you anyway. Hell, if this thing goes through, it won’t matter two cents.” Picket passed on the details of his earlier meeting with the President and his inner circle. “That’s about it, Boyd. Scion 6 is on course for head-on collision with Earth, and the boys at NASA don’t know how to stop it. He knows Alex Q was responsible for the Giron Collider solution, so he’s ordered me to use him again.”

“How much does the President know, sir? About the program.”

“He knows as much as I tell him,” Picket said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Steven, nobody knows our true objective but us. Are you still committed?”

“Yes, sir. I consider it essential America has ultimate control of Quadnet’s capabilities if our country is going to carry on preserving world order.”

“Good, I’m counting on you. Once I have that power in my hands, Clayton B James will be revealed as the weak fool that he is. I’ll take over the reigns and will need someone I can trust close by. You understand what I’m saying?”

“You can count on me.”

“However, until further notice, top priority is this damn space rock. And Boyd, I don’t know how, but Clayton James knows about Taylor and Sommers. In view of their history so far, he thinks it might be our best shot, and he insists they be involved. Nothing must happen to them until we’re done with the asteroid crisis.”

“And afterwards?”

“You can do what you like with them.”

Secretary Picket terminated the transmission, and Boyd mused briefly on his soon-to-be status as adviser to a new President, a powerful position indeed.

Picket swiveled away from the holo-link console and looked out across the city. Boyd would have to be terminated on mission completion. He knew too much.

Stopping the Ford outside the Cybertronix entrance, Tex opened the rear door, already speaking into a microphone concealed in his lapel. “Agent Peters. Bringing the prisoners in,” he said, and out of the side of his mouth, “I’ll hand you over an’ I’ll see you later.”

“You’re not coming with us? We’ll be safe?” Nate asked.

“Safe as coons in a hen house. Word is, they need you, and besides, you’re protected some from above. Leave you free to work out how Alex Q is using entangled protons. His way of workin’ is sure playing havoc with quantum theory.” They both stared at him. “Hey, just because I pronounce shit with two syllables doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“We didn’t think you were dumb, but that’s high-level physics you’re talking about there,” Nate said.

Tex smiled good-naturedly. “That’s what comes from having a PhD; things slip out, I guess. Keep your powder dry, an’ your saddle greased. Catch you later.”

They passed through lobby face-recognition and were handed over to another agent.

“Zeke got injured some when we took these guys into custody. I’ll take him into town for treatment and report to the section leader when I’m done.”

Boyd stood as an agent brought them in. “You can remove the restraints. The doctors and I are old friends,” he said, gesturing towards the wrist ties. The agent cut them off and stood by the door. “Please, sit down.”

“You have a way of hiding untruths behind polite banalities, Agent Boyd,” Nate said, “If we’re friends, we need to talk about your definition of friendship.”

“I must say, Dr Taylor, I do find your repartee stimulating, and I would love to banter, but events have overtaken us once again. We have a problem.”

“We?” Karen asked. “Our biggest problem at the moment seems to be you.”

Boyd shifted in his seat and straightened his tie. “It seems we must put our differences aside against a common enemy.” He handed them two copies of the Scion 6 single page report across the table. It didn’t take long to read. Nate dropped the paper on the table. “End of the world? Why the hell not? I’ve been having a bad day anyway. Might as well finish it off with a bang.”

“I have somewhat limited communication with the Alex Q entity, and so it appears prudent to ask for your help.”

“Un-be-liev-a-ble,” Nate said, dragging out the word, “You arrest us, chase us all over town, and then ask us to help.”

“What do you mean by limited communication?” Karen asked.

“We have spoken, in a fashion, but I sense he was not cooperating fully.”

“What did he say?” Nate asked.

“To be frank, he said that I was lying to him.”

“Were you? Are you in the habit of lying, Agent Boyd?”

“I prefer to think of it as advanced diplomacy. My deceits are for the benefit of my country.”

“How noble. What bothers me is who decides what benefits our country.”

Boyd smiled benevolently. “This is getting us nowhere. You do not see the larger picture. These are complex and dangerous times.”

“I’ve got a good idea who makes these dark times dangerous, and it’s no foreign Russian agent sitting in a cave in Afghanistan.”

“It has always been the way. My job is to make sure we are in front, always ahead of the game.”

“We’re never going to agree, are we?” Nate said.

“I think not.”

“Boys, we have a more pressing problem,” Karen said, waving the report, “I say we go and see what Alex makes of all this.”

“I see you’ve made some changes to the old place,” Nate said as he walked into the lab.

“Simply a precaution, Dr Taylor. In view of your recent adventure, your apartment window controls have been disabled. I also considered that the laboratory windows represented a security risk, hence the steel shutters. By the way, video surveillance is under local control, again in view of your previous exploits. I do hope you understand.”

Karen pushed her head back to take in the domed structure mounted in the center of the room. “What’s this?”

“It is a reverse parabola our technical people devised. I am told it will greatly facilitate communication speed between Cybertronix and Langley, allowing more of our specialists to access the proceedings.”

The holo-boy walked over and looked up at Nate. “He is not telling you the truth.”

“It might be better if you left us to it,” Nate said, “It’s obvious Alex doesn’t trust you, and we need his absolute cooperation for the job in hand.” Boyd left without another word.

“Do you know what this dome is for, Alex?” Karen asked.

“I do not. It has no connectivity. Its form suggests it could be used for directing and focusing energy, but I would need access to its code to understand its function.”

Nate sat facing the hologram. “It’s not likely Boyd will give you access, but something else has come up. We have a problem, Alex, and it’s a big one.”

“Yes, the asteroid designated Scion 6 will destroy the planet in forty-three hours twelve minutes and seventeen seconds.”

“It does kind of bring it home when you put it like that.”

“This is too much of a coincidence. First of all, there were a string of Quadnet functionality anomalies, then the Giron disaster and this. It seems to be a series of events, each one more serious than the last,” Karen said.

“You are correct; these were not haphazard occurrences. I am responsible for all of them.”

“But you told us earlier it wasn’t you.”

“Not exactly. I said that I wasn’t aware of any actions on my part causing the events. After examining the circumstances and scanning the sub-nets involved, I conclude that I was responsible, although there is no data in my memory to suggest it.”

“Then logically there are two possibilities. You either knew what you were doing and the memories were somehow erased, or your actions were completely subconscious and therefore invisible to you.”

“Your reasoning is sound. However, it is more difficult to totally erase data than is believed. Paradoxically, erasing a memory leaves a memory of the erasure,” Alex said.

“Then we have to assume you are being manipulated by an external factor. Is the virus introduced by Alders contained and dormant, or could it be affecting you in some way?” Nate asked.

“Some of the anomalies occurred before the infection attempt, therefore I would say there is no correlation. However, I can confirm that the virus is resistant and evolving, but under control.”

“Nate, we haven’t got much time.”

“Karen’s right, Alex. We’ll talk about this later, and I promise we’ll do all we can to unravel the mystery. Right now, you have to help us save the world – again.”

“I sense the irony in your comment, and yet, I am not sure I have the confidence of your government.”

“You have our confidence, Alex. And truth be known, there are precious few options left to the people in power, in any country.”

“Very well. I will calculate the trajectories.”

“Is it possible to employ the same strategy you used to change the asteroid’s course in the first place? I mean, carry out another sling-shot maneuver and impact it again?” Karen asked.

“The current parameters are completely different, and for several reasons, it cannot be done. There is no suitable planet in the vicinity and the asteroid is much closer than before. The level of kinetic energy required to influence its trajectory is several orders of magnitudes higher than needed when it was thirty-seven million miles away. Shall I give you the exact figures?”

“They wouldn’t mean much to us, Alex. I’m guessing it’s equivalent to a large nuclear device.”

“It is much more, Nate. Most of the current global nuclear arsenal of the planet would be required to significantly change its course.”

“But it is a possibility,” Karen said hopefully.

“The explosive yield would be sufficient. However, only fifteen percent of the planet’s missiles are capable of leaving the Earth’s gravitational field, far short of the required force.”

“What about the Tesla Lens Converter? It could deliver quite a punch. Lock it onto the asteroid and blow it apart, or slow it down,” Nate said.

“It would reduce the asteroid’s velocity if focused correctly, but it has insufficient power to destroy it, or even fracture the core. Slowing the asteroid would help reduce the destructive effects of the collision. If the velocity could be halved, the kinetic energy released would be reduced by seventy-five percent. This would effectively change an extinction event into something less. Even so, your species would need many decades to rebuild your social and economic structure. The resulting tsunami alone would destroy all of the coastal cities around the globe.”

“It sounds to me like you’re saying it can’t be stopped.”

“I am merely exploring a solution to a problem using the means available. The explosive force of the number of nuclear missiles capable of leaving Earth’s orbit may reduce its velocity considerably. Perhaps this is the best option in the circumstances.”

“I can hardly believe this, Alex. Billions of people are going to die. Does mankind have nothing that can be used to destroy the thing?” Karen asked.

“Unlike previous anomalies, it appears I have unwittingly created a situation I cannot undo.”

“We can’t make a black hole to throw at it; the collider’s gone,” Nate said, and a thought crossed his mind. “Alex, you destroyed the singularity with anti-matter, and the whole damn mountain with it. Is this a possibility?”

“Partial destruction would require forty-five thousand megatons of explosive force. A device containing ten and a half kilograms of anti-matter would be required. Such an explosion would fracture the asteroid’s iron core and split it into four or five lesser fragments. The probability is that the trajectories of the satellite asteroids would deviate considerably and bypass the Earth.”

“Does such a bomb exist?”

“I do not know, Karen. At this stage of my evolution I have no access to military sub-nets.”

“Anti-matter bombs were added to the Space Weapons Treaty in 2022, and research was prohibited across the globe. Even if ten and a half kilos of anti-matter existed on Earth, what then? We’d need to get it up there,” Nate said.

“The question is more complex than this. As the mass of anti-matter increases, the energy required for its magnetic containment increases exponentially. A mass of ten and a half kilograms would require more energy to keep the anti-matter contained than it would to send it into space. Such a payload would be limited to less than two kilograms to be viable as a weapon of war.”

“We would need several of these things. Two steps forward, one step back,” Nate said. “Better order pizza, Karen; we’re gonna be here a while.”