Desperate Measures

By Syrus Durham

An act of desperation.

Veronica Logan’s teleportation project is on the verge of losing its funding, and she fears her husband has strayed from her. Without caring about the results or if she’d even survive, she enters the departure pod as the first human test subject and disappears.
Something happens while her signal is transmitting, and only a small fraction of her mass reappears at the other side. Alive but incomplete, she asks her team to hide the accident from her husband while they try retrieving her missing matter still stored in the computer’s memory. However, Veronica’s colleagues have other motives which may make her condition permanent and unleash a darker, bigger threat.

To measure up to the woman she once was, Veronica must reassess her career and reconcile with her husband. Only she can clear her conscience, but she might be her own worst enemy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Syrus Durham
• Release date: Oct 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310215902

Syrus Durham

Syrus Durham first started writing short stories and keeping track of them in high school, churning out a short story every few weeks. They were only a few pages long and handwritten in pencil on unlined notepads, but everyone starts somewhere! Even back then, he wrote about weird or fantastic events happening to normal people. Over time, he wrote longer and longer stories until he was finally able to sustain a novel-length plot. He enjoys reading science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary fiction—as long as the plot, themes, and characters are compelling and/or quirky fun.

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Desperate Measures

by Syrus Durham

Copyright 2014 Syrus Durham

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 9781310215902

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

Smashwords License Statement

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover by Vila Design

www.viladesign.net

Image by YuriyZhuravov | Bigstock.com

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Acknowledgments

About the Author

~ 1 ~

Three...two...one...activate.

Following the computerized voice was the loud sound of electricity crackling through the air and the intense light pouring out of the windows of the two capsules on one end of the large room. Four figures—three of them standing and one seated at a computer workstation—watched through special safety goggles and waited for the light to fade. When it went out, almost as abruptly as it had first appeared, the staring occupants remained motionless.

Charlie, open the door to the arrival pod, said a commanding but apprehensive female voice.

The man at the computer glanced at the screen while tapping the keyboard. After a few clicks of his mouse, he looked up, joining the others in their collective anticipation.

The door of the capsule on the right opened with a hiss of escaping pressurized air. Mist formed as the warm air from inside the pod mixed with the cooler air of the large room.

Did it work? asked the distinguished older gentleman, his hand removing the goggles and setting them atop his salt-and-pepper hair.

Let’s hope this is the one, said the tall woman who had given the order to open the door. She removed her goggles and smoothed her straight brown hair, which hung almost halfway down her back. Janice, can you please retrieve the specimen?

An average-sized, middle-aged woman in a white lab coat left the group and eagerly, yet cautiously, approached the open capsule. Kneeling down, Janice peered into the small chamber, only slightly larger than a telephone booth. There it was on the smooth white floor after enduring the cruel and unusual ordeal.

Veronica! called Janice. You’re going to want to see this.

Another failure, thought Veronica. She could tell from Janice’s wavering voice. This was the sixteenth test and apparently would become the sixteenth consecutive failure. What could have happened to the specimen this time?

Before Veronica could make it to the pod, Janice stood and turned around. Bickey made it through! Her face was beaming with a wide smile. He’s alive!

Looking down into Janice’s cupped hands, Veronica saw the white mouse sniffing and looking around. The animal behaved normally, oblivious to the historical journey it had taken.

It worked? exclaimed Veronica, turning around to the two men standing there. Charlie, Richard, it worked!

We did it? Charlie put his hands to his cheeks. We actually did it?

Congratulations, Richard extended his hand to shake his Veronica’s. I will inform the board of directors. I’m positive they’ll be pleased.

Behind his goggles, Charlie’s eyes squinted as he watched Janice raise one hand so the mouse could crawl down to the other one, only to see her hands alternate and the climbing process repeat. I can’t believe we actually teleported it.

Bickey was the sixteenth mouse they had attempted to teleport from the departure pod on the left to the arrival pod on the right, a mere fifteen feet apart but a technological light-year jump forward. Mickey, their first test subject, never left the departure pod. Nor did Nickey or Oickey, each subsequent test animal being so alphabetically named, for they had deemed it crucial for each test to be a new mouse in case the process caused any ill effects.

No such problems were encountered until the fourth test; the mouse was badly burned. Eventually, they were able to send Tickey, or some pile of incinerated remains, across to the second pod. Then there were mice with missing body parts or insides turned out. More recent tests yielded dead mice, teleported with seemingly no other physical problems as autopsies showed. Improvements had been made, but the trek had not yet proven to be anything other than fatal.

Until Bickey. That little mouse would spark a new revolution in transportation technology. Only minor modifications would be necessary to teleport living creatures further distances. Once the living matter could be successfully converted to bits of data and back, the transmission technology already existed. Only further tests with larger specimens were needed before possible mass production of the pods, terminals, and software.

We should...we should note Bickey’s mass, stammered Charlie, switching from his goggles to his actual eyeglasses from his shirt pocket.

I’m on it, said Janice, carefully bringing Bickey to an electronic scale on a nearby stainless steel counter. She compared the digital reading on the scale to a previous measurement she had recorded in her open notebook on the table. Exactly the same.

That is encouraging, said Richard, removing his white lab coat to reveal a dark navy suit with a matching tie underneath. I cannot imagine the board being anything other than impressed. Veronica, you should be proud of yourself and your team.

Veronica stood straight and tall, and at almost six feet tall, slightly taller than Richard. But we can’t rest on our laurels, she said. We need to see if these tests are reproducible. Charlie, start the initiation procedure. Janice, get our next volunteer ready.

The two loyal team members instantly carried out their respective assignments. Janice placed Bickey into a small metal cage on a set of shelves against a wall and retrieved his successor. Charlie sat at the keyboard, feverishly inputting the commands to start the ten-minute warm-up period for the generators.

My area of expertise is not needed here, said Richard, strolling to the lab’s main exit. Veronica, I leave this in your capable hands.

Stick around, said Janice, kneeling in front of the departure pod and placing Cickey inside.

Yeah, Richard. Charlie looked up from his screen. Don’t you want to see it again? It’s pretty cool.

Please, Richard, said Veronica. Without you advocating for us, we never could have come this far. Another successful test or two is more good news you can take to the board.

I guess you’re right. I owe you that much for your dedication to the project. Richard returned and smirked. And it was, shall we say, cool.

Veronica smiled back at him. Thanks.

Dr. Veronica Logan had spent the previous five years researching and developing teleportation technology after receiving her Ph.D. in particle physics from Stanford University. She relocated to the Washington, D.C. area to accept a job for a government contractor. With a background in both physics and electrical engineering, Veronica had been involved in all aspects of the project. From its mechanical design and circuitry to the relevant theories, this was her baby—her sole offspring, so to speak. All the hours she had spent in the lab and away from her husband finally seemed worth it. She had succeeded, and she was prepared to reap all the accolades and benefits that went with that success. Maybe then could she take some time off and relax. After all, at thirty-two, she wasn’t getting any younger.

Second test initiated, Charlie spoke aloud almost as monotone as the computerized voice. Three...two...one...activate.

Charlie Winters had always been considered a nerd. His appearance—thin and awkward with glasses—fit the stereotype. Few females had interfered with his studies, a fact for which he was grateful in the long run. He had remained focused on his goals. Besides, he knew that if he returned to high school reunions successful and wealthy, he might be more appealing than balding former jocks with beer bellies. And he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Ever since Veronica had selected him out of graduate school at M.I.T. to write the software for the teleportation project, he couldn’t have been happier working so closely with her. She had been spending more time with him lately than with her husband.

Cickey also seems unharmed, reported Janice as she retrieved the live white mouse. No significant alteration of appearance or mass. Ready for Dickey?

Janice McCallum was once a successful veterinarian in the suburbs before leaving to raise her daughter Elizabeth, now nine years old. A miscarriage had left her unable to have any more children, and when Lizzie started first grade, Janice was lonely and bored at home. Though somewhat opposed to animal testing, she couldn’t refuse the salary offered to her, even if she got the job through nepotism. The potential benefits of teleportation outweighed the casualties of a few mice, she rationalized. And she admired Veronica’s deep commitment to the project. Janice couldn’t help but look up to her, especially how at five-foot-four, Janice stood a head shorter than her supervisor.

That’s three for three today, said Richard, on his way out after the mouse that shared his name had successfully been teleported. The board can’t dismiss that batting average.

Richard Templeton was not a scientist; he held degrees in business administration. Typically science and business shouldn’t mix, but someone had to act as a liaison between the two. He had been appointed by the board of directors to monitor the work of their government-contracted projects, but he cared more about Veronica, Charlie, and Janice than he did for his superiors’ interests. He considered himself a paternal figure for the group, and biologically speaking, he was indeed Janice’s father. As a good parent, he would not deny his children what they needed to succeed, and he secured more than the necessary funding to get them to this point. Now, like a good parent, he was given the opportunity to go brag about their success.

Janice performed extensive physical examinations of the three mice and discovered no ill side effects whatsoever. The mice were behaving as if nothing extraordinary had happened to them.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Veronica were looking over computer printouts detailing the energy consumption and information stream of the three trials. The time interval during which the mice were disintegrated in the departure pod and reassembled in the arrival pod was practically instantaneous—a few hundred microseconds. Naturally, distances more than fifteen feet would require longer transport times, but they would still be much quicker than any other form of travel known to man.

We should celebrate, suggested Charlie at five-thirty that afternoon. It’s Friday, and we did it! Let’s go to dinner.

There’s still work to do, said Veronica, rummaging through file folders on her desk. I need to fill out requisitions to get larger test specimens, and we need longer cables to move the pods farther apart. We shouldn’t take a break simply because we finally completed phase one.

Charlie’s right, Veronica, intervened Janice. I’ll call Bob and tell him we’re going out. It’s his night off, so he’ll take care of Lizzie while we have dinner and drinks. Champagne is on me!

Veronica shook her head, rolled her eyes, and in defeat let a smile crack through her lips. All right. All right.

We should call Richard, said Charlie. He should come with us.

We can take my car, offered Janice. My minivan will be comfortable for four.

While plans were being made, Veronica stepped into a side room they used to take coffee breaks and grabbed her phone from her purse in her locker. She scrolled through the list of pre-programmed phone numbers and stopped at Derek’s, and then checked her watch. At about five-thirty Eastern U.S. time, it would be eleven-thirty at night where he was in the Mediterranean. He’d probably still be awake, and even if he wasn’t, she knew he’d answer the call. Because she had been so busy the past few days, they hadn’t spoken much since he had left.

Hey, Physics Babe. To what do I owe this honor? His voice was somewhat difficult to understand due to the long-distance nature of the call and the loud music and incoherent chatter at his location.

We did it, Hotshot, shouted Veronica. We actually did it!

What? On the other end, Derek was holding his free hand to his free ear and yelling. Can’t hear you!

What I’ve been working on—it worked! The classified nature of the project prevented Veronica from giving any details, but she hoped he’d realize how important the results were to her.

That’s great!

Is he patronizing me? No, Derek, this is big. This is going to—

I can’t talk now, he said. Tell me all about it when I get back! Only a few more days!

Then Veronica could make out a female voice with a European accent. Come Derek, back to the party, it said, or so Veronica thought she heard it say.

Yeah, sure, said Veronica.

Hey, I——you, Physics Babe.

The background music had suddenly gotten louder, obscuring whatever Derek had said, but Veronica gave her pre-programmed response: I love you too.

The signal went dead, and Veronica stared at her phone. She knew Derek’s career put him in contact with some of the world’s best-looking women, and even though he said he’d never been and would never be unfaithful to her, his Physics Babe, she couldn’t help feel insecure sometimes while he was away. What if…?

Veronica? Charlie knocked on the open door. You ready?

Uh, sure, she replied unconvincingly as she stuffed her phone into her purse and followed Charlie out.

* * *

Veronica met Derek Bishop in a bar in San Francisco. Normally, she wouldn’t have been there, but at her then-roommate’s insistence, she needed a night away from her doctorate dissertation.

Vee, don’t look now, said her roommate Stacey. There’s this totally hot guy checking you out.

Groaning, Veronica regretted allowing Stacey to choose her wardrobe and put her into the tightest top and shortest skirt she owned. Until that night, the clothing had been banished to the back of her closet. Veronica knew she was slender, having only time for light meals while doing research, and she knew she was relatively well-built—those damn C-cups sometimes got in her way—but she was a bit self-conscious about her height. Being five-eleven, she was taller than the men with whom she interacted in the physics department, and the taller men she met outside didn’t stimulate her intellectually.

He’s coming this way, said Stacey on surveillance. Let him buy you a drink. He’s cute, nice ass, and he’s taller than you.

Veronica rolled her eyes. The guy must have assumed she was advertising in the ensemble Stacey had picked for her. He must have seen her long legs and was fantasizing them wrapped around him. She hated the meat-market singles scene.

Can I buy you a drink? His voice was deep but comforting.

The first time Veronica looked at him, she was instantly mesmerized by his blue eyes, clear and calm like crystal lakes if she had been small enough to dive into them. Stacey was right; he was attractive and indeed a few inches taller than she was. Not clean-shaven by any means, the stubble accentuated his square jaw. Under his spell, she answered, Gin and tonic.

While he turned to the bartender, Veronica could see Stacey in the corner of her eye giving her a thumbs-up sign.

I’m Derek, by the way, he said, smiling.

Veronica. She brushed some of her brown hair away from her eyes.

Nice to meet you, Veronica. He handed her the drink and held his bottle of beer. Pardon me for asking, but are you a model?

Veronica nearly spit out the first sip of her drink. If that’s the best line you can come up with, then I’ll be leaving.

I’m serious. He stood in her way. I’m a photographer, and I’ve worked with plenty of attractive models, but you...let’s just say that my career before meeting you may have just been rendered obsolete.

Big words, thought Veronica, who assumed he was flattering her with ulterior motives in mind. But still, a small part of her buried inside enjoyed that attention, for she couldn’t remember the last time she received any from attractive men. This one was somewhat cocky, but in an oddly irresistible way, confident with himself as she was with her science. And of course there were those eyes. She was already out for the evening, so maybe she could afford to give him a little test run.

So, Derek. She coyly took a sip of her drink. Are you trying to pick me up?

* * *

It’s too bad Richard’s not here, said Charlie, flipping through a menu.

Veronica snapped back to reality and found herself at a table on the rooftop veranda of one of the most upscale restaurants in the D.C. area.

He said he’ll join us later, uttered Janice. In time to pick up the check, no doubt.

Though Veronica respected Richard’s support, she wished Derek was there to celebrate with her instead of partying with his swimsuit models. It was supposed to be her proudest accomplishment, but she couldn’t stop dwelling on the distance, both physical and emotional, between her and her husband.

Charlie and Janice’s enthusiastic dinner discussion turned to the countless benefits teleportation would bring the world. Food, medicine, and other supplies could be sent instantly to wherever they were needed, as could rescue or aid workers. But Veronica was lost in thought about how it could send Derek back to be with her. Or even better, sending her to the Mediterranean to be with him.

Eventually, a few glasses of champagne loosened Veronica up and allowed her to enjoy the conversation and the meal. They mixed business with their pleasure and developed a plan for testing new, larger animals such as rabbits, monkeys, and then, after a long time, testing on humans. But she’d be in it for the long haul, even if it meant starting with tiny steps.

Hey, it’s Richard! Charlie pointed as they had crème brulé for dessert.

Veronica, can I have a word with you? Richard’s demeanor was serious.

He led her away from the others to a corner of the veranda. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I feel you deserve the advance warning. Due to rising energy costs, the directors are considering terminating the project.

The news struck Veronica like a forceful blow to the stomach. Wh...what? she gasped, the wind knocked out of her.

They’ve reviewed your power usage this past month, and they think the ultimate benefits don’t outweigh the current costs for the next few years of safety testing and development. They’ll settle for teleporting inanimate matter.

Richard. Veronica paused to hold back tears. She couldn’t let him see her emotional side. She had to stay composed, strong, even aloof or distant. But we did it. Did you tell them?

Yes, and they’re planning on coming through next week to see one test before making an official announcement, but… He shrugged his shoulders.

But you get the impression that it’s a done deal. Veronica turned away, placing her hands on the veranda’s railing and looking out over the city.

Yes. You and I both know it would take years of red tape before any human testing, and then feasibility studies of capsule placement, and so on. Maybe if the economy shifts soon, they’ll reconsider.

I know how it works, Richard. Her tone of voice could no longer hide her disappointment. So now what? Do Janice, Charlie, and I get reassigned? Separated? Or let go?

No decision has been made, but with your qualifications and reputation, I’m sure... His voice trailing off, he knew the project had been her life for so long, and she wasn’t ready to part with it. Listen, they won’t come by until Tuesday or Wednesday. Take a few days off. Clear your head of all this bullshit. Go surprise your husband.

Wouldn’t that be a surprise; her showing up while he was in a hot tub surrounded by tall, nubile, naked bombshells? Why did her crises occur together? Bad things always came in threes, didn’t they? When was the next big one going to drop?

When she returned to the table, Janice asked, What was all that about? I know him too well to know that something’s not right.

Veronica had already taken the half-empty bottle of champagne chilling in the nearby ice bucket and refilled her glass. Just a heads up, she said, gulping her drink. The directors will be through next week, and we need to amaze them.

They’d find out the truth soon enough, and Veronica didn’t want to ruin Charlie and Janice’s weekends as well. Her glass empty again, she poured herself another drink.

Later that night, Veronica stumbled out of Janice’s minivan and towards her car in the parking lot outside the nondescript warehouse that fronted for their lab. She overheard Janice’s muffled voice chastising Charlie as she fiddled with her car keys.

Veronica, said Charlie. I can give you a ride home. You probably shouldn’t drive.

It’s no big deal, Charlie. Veronica’s words were slightly slurred. I’m fine.

Is something bothering you? You can tell me. Charlie knew Veronica would confide in him. Their friendship was deep, and though his feelings for her ran deeper, he would never take advantage of her while she was buzzed. Besides, he knew she’d never see him as anything more than like a little brother.

Missing Derek, I suppose. It would have been nice to share my success with him.

Derek was the other reason Charlie would never act on his feelings for Veronica. It was easy to see the chemistry between Veronica and Derek; they complemented each other well, when they were together, but their schedules and dedications to their careers kept them apart so often. Veronica deserved someone who’d always be there for her. Seriously, said Charlie. You shouldn’t drive right now. You’re a little tipsy. Let me bring you home.

I can’t keep my car here, she replied. With Derek away, I can’t—

I’ll drive your car to your house.

And how will you get your car?

I’ll take a taxi back here.

Don’t be ridiculous, Charlie. That’s spending money for no reason. Look, if you’re that concerned, I’ll stay here awhile. There are some things I could do in the lab. I’ll have some coffee and work or sleep for a few hours, all right?

Charlie nodded. Are you sure?

Thanks for looking out for me. Veronica leaned forward and hugged him. "You’re a