you teleported directly into my office.”
The General pointed into the corner. There was a narrow tube
large enough to fit one person. It was teleportation machine. It looked much
like the time machine that was hidden in the wall.
“Keep your watch on. I need to be able to communicate with
you at all times.”
General Umar gave Donovan his phone number and told him to
memorize it.
“Yes, sir.” More than anything Donovan just wanted to get
out of there and have time to think to himself.
The Private, whose name Donovan was too preoccupied to
remember, led him to what would be his room for however long it took him to
meet with his grandfather and get the necessary information out of him. He
didn’t expect that it would take long. In 2176, his grandfather was fifty-four
years old—already a well-known scientist for having created teleportation in
2157. It was odd to think that he was older than his own grandfather.
The government had already recruited Tobias so Donovan would
have no problem finding where he lived. It was just a matter of knowing how
much he could tell his grandfather without breaking any time-traveling laws.
The Private sent Donovan’s room key to his watch. Donovan
waved his wrist over the scanner under the doorknob and it beeped green,
unlocking.
“You’ll find that you have rather extensive accommodations,
fitting someone of your rank. There is a map and directory of the base inside
your desk drawer.”
“Thank you.” Donovan quickly dismissed the Private, assuring
him that he didn’t need any assistance.
When he was gone Donovan went straight for the twin bed in
the right corner, which was unusually comfortable. He lay on his back and
stared at the smooth white ceiling. It was his habit to thoroughly examine his
living quarters when on a mission—get settled into the place, check out the
base if he hadn’t been there before—but right then he needed quiet. He needed
to lay there and do nothing.
He still couldn’t truly believe that his grandfather was at
fault. He played through the brief again, letting the facts run through his
mind:
They had found an older version of the virus in Tobias’s
lab.
They found other human-friendly viruses, the purposes of
which they didn’t know.
They found design and operation manuals of Liao Inserts.
They found various paraphernalia indicating that his
grandfather had experimented with cloning.
These were the facts, but what did they mean? Certainly,
they were suspicious. Certainly, they required some type of government
punishment, but had they fit all the clues together accurately?
Yes, maybe his grandfather did create the viruses, but did
that mean for sure that his intent was to destroy the human race? Wasn’t it
possible that he had created the virus to cure common illnesses? To strengthen
the human body rather than harm it?
So what if the virus had turned bad. Didn’t intent matter?
But what about the manuals?
So what? Donovan thought. It could be a coincidence.
It didn’t show beyond reasonable doubt that his grandfather programmed the
world’s Liao Inserts to infect them with the virus. General McGregor just had a
bunch of dots that he was trying to force together because of the message he’d
gotten from the future.
The only thing Donovan could see that his grandfather was
guilty of was cloning and negligence. It would earn him a long prison sentence
for sure—but at least he wouldn’t be guilty of treason.
Cloning and negligence Donovan could believe. It made much
more sense than Tobias plotting to kill everyone on the planet. His grandfather
was a zealot of a scientist. He was passionate about pushing limits, about discovering
things that previous generations had thought were impossible. It was far more
likely that he would break the law for the sake of discovery.
Donovan remembered his grandfather’s fervor more than
anything else about him. There were times when Donovan was a boy when Tobias
had given him lessons and
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley