Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Return of Dr. Schull, Part II

Well, here it is, part two! Enjoy!

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2004.
It took Schuyler Engineering about six months before they found it. Overnight, it was transported by special air freight charter to the CEO’s private compound in Lake Tahoe. Once it arrived, a special team that Angelina Schuyler had hand-picked began the work of deciphering just what it was they’d found at the bottom of the East River.

At the end of the first week, Angelina Schuyler fired her entire team with the exception of Professor Anton Zhukov. They all grumbled and complained, but she kept them satisfied with a generous bonus package and transportation to any place in the world they wanted. She didn’t need them anymore, anyway.

It was Zhukov who first came to her after the second night of work. He’d figured it out, but he just couldn’t believe it. What the engineering teams had found was a suspended-animation chamber with an engraving on the side indicating that it had been built in 1873. It was the work of a genius, still ahead of it’s time…and it was occupied.

“Ms. Schuyler, you don’t seem very surprised by what I’ve just told you,” said Zhukov. The old Russian had a strong conviction that she knew exactly what the device had been all along, and who was in it. The situation he was in was odd, to say the least, but he was willing to go along if only for the sake of his own insatiable curiosity.

It was late in the evening, and Angelina was sitting and sipping a glass of chardonnay in her back deck. She looked up at Zhukov and studied him intently for a few seconds. He was old, tall, and thin with a full head of snow-white hair and a nasty set of scars on his arms. She knew that he’d defected from the old Soviet Union in the late 1970’s and had worked for the CIA and the Department of Defense for a number of years before she was able to lure him out of retirement with the promise of virtually unlimited resources for whatever scientific project at Schuyler Enterprises he wanted to tackle. He agreed immediately and for the last five years had been conducting genetic and cryogenic experiments that, while not technically illegal, would be deemed unethical by most people.

Putting her glass down, Angelina silently stood up and walked inside. She went straight to her private desk and, with her back to Zhukov, opened a hidden drawer and pulled out Dr. Schull’s journal. She opened it to the pages containing the schematic drawings of the container, turned to Zhukov and said “You’re right…I’m not surprised. Here is what that container is.” She held out the journal to him, open to the drawings. Zhukov took the book and looked with growing fascination at the schematics there. “Ms Schuyler, this is amazing” he said after a few minutes, “whoever did this was a genius, a true visionary. Where did you find this book? Who built this thing? I must know!”

Angelina knew that she had to be very careful with her information. She looked at Zhukov with a half-smile and said “I can tell you where I found it, Professor, but I’m afraid that I can’t tell you who built it, at least not yet. First, I need you to decipher how to work the locking mechanism of the lid and open the container. If I’m correct, if I find what I’m expecting, I’ll explain it all to you then. Whatever we find, I insist on strict secrecy regarding this entire matter. That’s why I’m dismissing the rest of the team – you and I can complete the work together, alone, in my private lab. Nobody must know what we’re working on until it’s ready to be shown to the world. Those are my conditions, Professor. Accept them and stay, reject them and I’ll send you back home with a very large bonus – but if you break your word, Professor, you will find that the world is suddenly a very hostile and small place with nowhere to hide. I’ll need your decision now, please.”

Zhukov removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Ms. Schuyler, I do not like threats. In science, they are of no value or use. Keep your secrets if you must; I am only interested in the work.”

“Professor,” said Angelina, “excuse me for being so blunt. My intention was not to threaten but only to clearly state the security issues regarding this project.” She leaned forward and said “Frankly, I need you, Professor…I need help that only Anton Zhukov can give.”

The old Russian found her personal plea touching and more than flattering to his ego. He agreed to her conditions, and the work began. For three weeks, they struggled to decipher the code the original builder used in his equations – whoever he was, thought Zhukov, he must have been an exceedingly paranoid person. Finally, the day came when they cracked it and were able to make sense at last of that part of the journal.

Angelina and Anton attached the heavy electrical cables to the electrode points at the top and bottom of the container. The lock consisted of about a dozen interlocking cylinders held fast by some kind of magnetic field. By applying an incrementally modulated electrical current, the magnetic field holding each of the cylinders would be released, and they would have access to a keypad where they would punch the final code that they’d deciphered from the journal. That was the theory. The reality was that neither Angelina nor Anton knew if this would actually work.

With the cables attached, they both moved to their respective control panels. On the count of three, they both hit their master switches. A hum started to fill the room as the electrical current coursed thru the container, causing it to shimmer and glow, almost as if it were something like liquid mercury. Angelina said “Electrical contact established, increasing current by one point.”

“Check. Electrical contact established, increasing current by one point.”

“Magnetic field strength for cylinder one decreasing, down to 60%. Increasing current by one point.”

“Check. Magnetic field decreasing, increasing current by one point.”

“Magnetic field strength for cylinder one continuing to decrease…40%...15%...2%...magnetic field for cylinder one disengaged!”

It was an astounding sight. Cylinder one had actually detached itself and seemed to be floating in the blue-white aura that was forming around the container. The mercurial glow of the container was now pulsing and steadily growing stronger, bathing both scientists in an eerie silvery light that made them look like materializing spirits.

The electrical hum was getting louder and Angelina had to raise her voice to be heard. “Modulate electrical current by one order of magnitude and hold it steady at five points!”

“Check! Modulating current by one order of magnitude and holding steady at five points!”

“Magnetic field strength for cylinder two decreasing, down to 85%...it’s working, Anton! Increase current by two points!"

“Check! Field strength for cylinder two decreasing, increasing current by two points…yes, isn’t it magnificent?”

Cylinder two’s field was disengaged, with the container now glowing with a strong and steady silver light that turned Angelina’s laboratory into a black-and-white setting. Once cylinder three was disengaged, they had to don their protective rubberized suits. The hum was now so loud that they could only communicate thru their radio helmets, but they continued thru the night.

Most of the night was gone by the time they hit the tenth cylinder. Angelina’s protective suit made her sweat and itch, her lips were dry and they were both using the protective visors in their radio helmets to shield their eyes from the light that glowed like the heart of a star from the container. She could hear Anton’s labored breathing thru her helmet and wondered how the old man was doing. The glow was so intense that she couldn’t see his face anymore, he was just a silver phantom that she could barely glimpse as he adjusted dials and switches on his control panel.

The tenth cylinder’s field disengaged, adding one more to the row of strangely floating cylinders that now seemed to be slowly moving in a circular pattern…almost as if they were starting to orbit the container.

She could see the old man’s movements getting slower. “Anton, are you all right? Repeat, are you all right? Anton, answer me!”

“I..am..all right,” the old Russian answered, “let us finish this, Angelina!”

“Very well, modulate current by one order of magnitude and hold it steady at 25 points!”

“Check…modulate current by…one order of magnitude…hold steady…25 points.”

When the field for the eleventh cylinder disengaged, it joined the rest of them in their strange dancing orbit around the container, but now they all started to pick up speed, going faster and faster until the cylinders became just a band of golden light that hummed and crackled around the container.

“Last cylinder, Anton! Modulate current by one order of magnitude and hold it steady at 50 points!”

“No, Angelina! The circuits cannot hold at that strength! The explosion will destroy everything!”

“They’ll hold! Do as I say!”

“Check…modulating current by one order of magnitude, holding steady at 50 poi..aaahhh!”

Angelina turned her head just in time to see a bolt of silver light surge from the container and strike the Russian scientist square in the chest. The old man stood for a second and then collapsed, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. She bolted to his side as she screamed his name, dodging a second bolt of silver light that struck the bank of equipment behind her and made it explode in a welter of flame and electrical sparks.

She kneeled by him, lifting his head as more and more bolts shot from the cylinder and began to reduce her laboratory to a smoking ruin. “Anton, speak to me,” she said, surprised at the tears that came to her eyes. “Anton, please speak to me!” she repeated over and over.

Suddenly, she could hear him take a weak, ragged breath thru her radio helmet. His voice rasped dryly “Angelina…no tears…only the work matters, your triumph…look…look…” His body suddenly relaxed and sagged into her arms.

Then, the twelfth cylinder disengaged and joined the other eleven in orbit around the container. Without dropping speed, all twelve cylinders suddenly shot up into the air, striking the ceiling and causing a shower of acoustic panels, metal, plaster and other debris to fall around them. The primary generator had burned itself out, leaving her in darkness until the emergency lights kicked in.

When they did after a few seconds, she found herself in a room that looked more like a battlefield bathed in a blood-red light than a laboratory. Some sparks still shot out from isolated corners and the lab was filling with an acrid smoke that stung her lungs. Coughing, she stumbled to the venting control panel and turned on the fans that quickly sucked out the smoke and sent it floating thru the Tahoe night.

She couldn’t believe it. She had failed and Anton Zhukov was dead. All that work, all that effort, her top scientist a corpse at her feet, her laboratory effectively totaled and what had she to show for it? She started to think Nothing, when she realized that there was a keypad that had appeared on the side of the container…she hadn’t failed!

Slowly, she stood up and walked to the container. Licking her lips, she began to punch the 128-character secret code from the journal. When she finished, there was a short electronic chirp from the keypad as it lifted up and split into two parts, revealing a golden latch in the form of the letters ZS.

What are you doing, she thought, what are you doing? Hadn’t she destroyed enough in one night, was one life lost not enough? But if she didn’t turn the latch and open the container, then her work and Anton’s death were both for nothing…she saw a hand grab the ‘Z’ and the other grab the ‘S’ and she thought how strange my hands look in this light as she pulled the letters apart.

There was a loud whooshing sound as the lid detached itself, with small wisps of smoke curling up from inside the container. Trembling, Angelina grabbed the lid and lifted it, just in time to see a pair of almost glowing green eyes drifting up towards her from the container and feel cold fingers wrapping around her wrist…


2004.
Headline from the Sacramento Bee, dated August 7th, 2004.

NOBEL PRIZE WINNER MISSING

Professor Anton Zhukov, winner of the Nobel Prize for Physics and for Medicine, was reported missing today when his personal airplane failed to arrive yesterday in Sacramento and could not be contacted by radio. Dr. Angelina Schuyler, CEO of Schuyler Enterprises and the person who is credited with convincing Professor Zhukov to defect from the Soviet Union, issued a statement saying that her thoughts and prayers are with Professor Zhukov’s family and reiterating her hopes that the aging scientist will be found alive…

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Next, in Part III of "The Return of Dr. Schull"...He Lives Again!