After the elevator stopped the locks disengaged and Bradigan hurriedly opened the door. He emerged into a well-lit atrium with high ceilings and white walls with red embellishments. High on the opposite wall was that symbol again, the same one on the letter.
“Dr. Daniel Bradigan.” It was the voice again but it came from across the room. Walking swiftly toward the car was a young woman in her early 20’s clutching a tablet to her chest. Her short curly hair bounced along with her lively stride. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said, extending her hand.
Bradigan shook it warily. “Do I know you?”
“If you did it would be a major breach in security,” she said with a laugh. “But now that you’re here,” she adjusted her glasses, “I’m the project leader’s assistant Penelope Stevenson, but everyone calls me Pip.”
“It’s nice to meet you Miss Stevenson, but please, tell me what’s going on here.”
“You’re even more interrogative than your file indicated,” she said, looking at her tablet.
“File? What file?”
“I guess that’s what makes you such a brilliant researcher. Please, step this way and I’ll explain.”
He did so, finding it more than a little difficult to keep pace with her.
“You see, we’ve had eyes on you for a while. We needed a recruit with your experience but our operation is so secretive we needed to make sure you were the right fit.”
“The right fit?” He said as they passed the only other person in that hallway. They seemed to be excited to see him.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed we don’t have many people on staff here. Take the car that brought you here for example, completely self-driving.”
“Self-driving? But . . .”
“The thing you saw in the driver’s seat was merely a formality. If people see a car with no driver they get curious so we made a simple mock-up as cover.” Pip suddenly paused at a door and Bradigan’s inertia almost bowled him over as he tried to stop. She waved her badge and a hidden pin pad appeared. “We only recruit unpeople for this project.”
“Unpeople? I’m not an unperson, I’m a respected anthropologist with published papers and . . .”
“You’re a hermit,” Pip said as the door opened. “You have no friends, no family, no one to talk to about what you see here and no one to miss you if you disappear. Your life, or the lack thereof, will be easy to erase.”
“Hurling insults at a person isn’t a very good way to recruit them.”
“Are we wrong?” she asked as she walked through the door, into another elevator.
Bradigan thought for a moment before joining her. “What about you then? You seem like a capable young woman, fresh out of college I’d bet, with her whole life ahead of her.”
Pip tightened her grip on her tablet and her shoulders sank as her cheerful demeanor disappeared. “I died in a fire nine years ago, along with the rest of my family.”
“I’m sorry.”
They rode in silence for a while.
“It’s okay,” she said finally, wiping her eyes. “Maybe I’ll be able to tell you more, one day.” She smiled at him.
The elevator opened into a small room with a reinforced door, Cameras watched them from every corner. Pip approached the door, again waved her badge and again a hidden panel opened. Bradigan watched in amazement at the slew of codes and biometrics involved in opening the door.
Pip noticed the look on his face. “Very restricted area,” she said with a grin.
The door opened with a compliment of lights and sound to announce its use to everyone on that floor. Waiting for them on the other side was a woman standing with her arms crossed, wearing a three piece suit and skinny tie, vest unbuttoned, with the jacket draped over one shoulder. Standing next to her was a balding, elderly gentleman in a lab coat with magnetic glasses separated and dangling from his neck.
“Finally. Thank you, Pip,” the woman said as Bradigan stepped through. “My analysts told me it was too soon but I knew you were the right man for the job.” Pip moved from Bradigan’s side and stood next to her.
“Yes, Miss Stevenson filled me in on why I was chosen but didn’t tell me why you want me.”
“On that note, I’d like to introduce Dr. August Zachariah.”
The older gentleman stepped forward and shook Bradigan’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”
“Dr. Zachariah? The theoretical physicist?” Bradigan was surprised. “I heard about you while I was at university.”
The old man smiled. “How nice to be recognized,” he said. “Though, I’ve moved to applied physics now. Are you a student of physics as well?”
“No, but I remember you were making waves in the physics department for some weird theories up until . . .” he paused, “up until you died.”
The old man exchanged glances with the woman and flashed a knowing smile.
“Your private plane went down over the Atlantic,” Bradigan continued, “when you were flying to Munich for some conference.”
“Oh, I remember that,” the woman said. “We replaced your flight crew with our own people and made a whole production out of it.” She looked at Bradigan. “We even put on a little show for the data recordings, something for the recovery teams.”
“I was rather apprehensive about the whole thing but you talked me into it,” Zachariah added.
The woman impersonated his voice, “No, please Miss Davis I’m already too old for all this.” Together they laughed and she kissed his head. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you, Doc.”
“So you faked your death so you could be a part of this mystery project. Incredible,” said Bradigan. “But who are you to have him do that?”
“Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself yet,” the woman said. “I’m Valeria Davis.”
Bradigan looked at her blankly.
“Wow. You really do live in the past, don’t you?” she said. “I’m the owner of Heliarc Enterprises.” She waited for Bradigan to react but still nothing. Sighing, she turned to her assistant. “Help me out here, Pip.”
Pip stepped forward and presented her tablet, which she’d already used to pull up headlines pertaining to the company and Valeria herself: Youngest Woman CEO of the New Millennium, Heliarc Stuns Market with Recent Acquisitions, Heliarc Stock Continues to Rise.
“So you’re a big shot, huh?” Bradigan said, watching as Pip swiped through the images.
“Pretty big.” Valeria grinned.
“I’m not surprised. You ultra rich types feel like you’ve got every right to play around with people’s lives.”
“Hey now, that’s not . . .”
“So what’s the big project, self-tying shoe laces?” Bradigan turned and went for the door. “Wouldn’t want any design secrets being leaked to the competition.” He waved at the camera. “I’d like to be let out now.”
“Please, Doctor,” Valeria implored him, “give me a bit more credit. This project isn’t about me or the company, it’s about humanity.” She paused as Bradigan looked at her over his shoulder. “That’s why we needed you. We needed an expert on people, on who we are and where we’ve come from. Please, just let me show you straight up what this is all about. If you don’t want in after that you’ll be free to go.”
Pip interjected, “But, Miss Davis . . .”
Valeria dismissed her with a wave of her hand.
Bradigan turned and looked at Pip and Dr. Zachariah, trying to gauge their reactions, before turning his attention to Valeria Davis. “Show me.”
Writer by Grace 