Blue Voltage

By Bill Goodrich

Blue Voltage is an anthology of 25 stories of speculative fiction with elements of fantasy set in a shared universe. Depicted within are aliens, super-beings, extra-dimensional, and other worldly realms. In this book you will find fantastic beasts, super advanced races, and ordinary people dealing with extraordinary dilemmas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Goodrich
• Release date: May 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463259580

Bill Goodrich

Bill Goodrich is a United States Army veteran, and a long time personal trainer. A lifelong consumer of science fiction, and fantasy, in all of its forms, he finally jumped off the procrastination train, and wrote his first book. The aspiration here is one of igniting future imaginations of readers, just as earlier works had inspired him.The fun is in creating original characters, worlds, and situations, and hoping they become iconic.

Book preview

AFTERMATH

The newscasts seemed to share a common theme. Governments of the world wait with baited breath, the next move from the clandestine group of rogue scientists who, one year ago this day commandeered a joint collaboration between several billionaire investors, and the United States Government. Three hundred of the world’s top ranked scientists entrenched themselves inside the virtually impregnable fortress like facility located in the center of the Mojave Desert. This facility houses state of the art laboratories in every discipline of science. It stood to make billions for its financiers, but instead, these scientists are giving away the miracles wrought within. The financiers are understandably upset. With us today are Milburn Fordyce, financial analyst of the Chandler Group, and Professor Elton Dobbs, senior fellow from Harvard University. Welcome gentlemen. Mister Fordyce, we’ll start with you. How has this affected the global markets?

In one word Mort, Horrendously. As you mentioned, the rogues have developed some extremely innovative breakthroughs in multiple areas, not the least of which is medicine. I’ll reserve judgement as to their validity, but supposedly they have cured blindness, cancer, spinal cord induced paralysis, certain forms of mental illness. Though the military, as well as private security have surrounded EXTRAPOLATOPIA as they now call themselves, the rogues are somehow finding ways to distribute these breakthroughs to anyone requesting them. We are at a loss to explain their methodology as of yet. Needless to say, the markets have tanked.

Yes indeed, said Mort Marks, they are undermining free enterprise, the very bedrock of our great nation. What is your take on this situation Professor Dobbs?"

While I sympathize, and agree with Mr. Fordyce to an extent, I must point out the altruism originally motivating my former colleagues’ actions. These miracle cures would not be covered in the majority of the people in need. No health care plans save for the very wealthy would provide access to these procedures and drugs. Big Pharma is a multi-billion dollar entity, but now the most in demand products are free. Again, I understand, and appreciate the dilemma this poses to these Fortune Five Hundred companies, but I must applaud the sentiment behind what I perceive as the nascent Technocracy being heralded.

So, you agree with these criminals? The anger from Milburn Fordyce was almost palpable.

I see it from both sides, said the Professor.

Mort decided to jump in before the situation degenerated into tabloid fodder. Professor, if you were to venture a guess, how are the scientists managing to come and go so freely from such a tightly guarded facility?

I have several hypothesis, but of course, no proof. The secret of teleportation might have been discovered, but again, that is only a guess.

Teleportation? Milburn Fordyce looked as if he might suffer an aortic aneurism. The sheer profit from that alone would be astronomical. Fordyce patted his brow with a handkerchief. The monumental audacity of these people is something the American people should fairly bristle at. They are destroying the balance of the world economy. This is an effrontery to the very foundation of the free world. They are worse than any pirates.

The professor grinned. I submit that one Belinda Grimes would disagree with you Mr. Fordyce. She has seen the faces of her grandchildren for the first time after Doctor Lydia Garcia cured her blindness. The professor let that statement stand alone, to sink in to whoever was listening.

Doctor Agesmith switched off the broadcast. The faces of his colleagues reflected what he was thinking. Lloyd Shantz was the first to voice his concerns however.

I’m surprised that Professor Dobbs would aid the opposition in any way. He was one of my mentors at Harvard.

He makes far more money writing books, and popularizing science for the masses than he did as a senior fellow, said Agesmith. Besides, he said he was merely speculating.

I doubt there is anyone left on the outside that could comprehend the actual process we are using, said Doctor Dreck, the hydrocephalic dwarf physicist who, along with Shantz, perfected the teleportation technology. That interview at least served to clarify the two camps of opinion the world seems to have entrenched themselves into.

Well, I for one am not worried about them thwarting the process, said Shantz. Shantz looked barely old enough to have a driver’s license, but in fact held three PhDs. He was clearly brilliant, but in Agesmiths expert psychiatric opinion, his technical expertise had largely outstripped his emotional maturity.

Perhaps not, said Agesmith, but they are devoting much effort into predicting who we might help next. The intelligence community has created an extensive and rapidly growing database of individuals who fit into the demographic we aspire to aid. They also monitor direct attempts from those most in need when they contact us.

That’s where my DreckTech will change the landscape of communication, said Doctor Dreck. I have about two thousand already manufactured. These phones are completely bug proof."

We can’t exactly drop them over populated areas, and hope the right people catch them, said Agesmith. We need to find a way to disburse them covertly. I suggest we start by giving them to people we have already helped.

That’s a good start, said Dreck. It does nothing to address the database demographic however.

I know you two don’t want to hear this, said Shantz, but here goes anyway. Since our goal is to institute a Technocratic society, why not do it by force? The governments and corporations are all corrupt, and need to be neutralized. That would certainly make it easier to help John and Joan Lunch pail. Shantz stared at the shocked looks on his fellows faces. The immaturity surfacing again. Come on, our ultimate goal is to cure the ills of society. Right now we’re using band aids when major surgery is needed.

That is not the platform upon which our sovereignty was built, said Agesmith. He looked to Doctor Dreck for support.

He does make a valid point Thaddeus, said Dreck, scratching his enlarged vascular cranium. We have already made a bold move upon commandeering this complex. Squeamishness should not prevent us from making another by failing to execute the next logical course of action. We certainly have the means to enforce our will.

The days following the debate with Dreck and Shantz had Agesmith wrestling with, albeit on a cerebral back burner, the moral conundrum of what they had proposed. Agesmith did his best thinking while walking the interior, but most distal circular pathway of the complex. He marveled, as he always had at the sheer engineering splendor of the building. The center hub was a quarter mile diameter domed circle housing dozens of state of the art labs in all disciplines. Twelve tubes were egresses to twelve huge domes, also housing advanced labs, along the entire perimeter. Every inch of the hull was composed of Impervion, the completely indestructible substance developed by Lloyd Shantz. From the outside Extrapolatopia gave the appearance of an enormous blue alien ship that had landed in the desert. Agesmith loved that analogy due to his boyhood dreams of super advanced extraterrestrials someday arriving on Earth to share wondrous technologies that would herald a utopian era. He was brought back to reality as the buildings AI asked for his retina scan. He questioned the need for such precautions, but Joe Qword the security chief was insistent, bordering on paranoia, that they must remain vigilant on all fronts, even internal treachery.

Bio-Lab Ten permitted him entrance, and he was immediately awed by the array of advanced computer banks monitoring multiple Plexiglas tubes, each of which was a miniature cosmos of intricate cellular reactions, and mutations. A smell not too dissimilar to his high school biology class assailed his olfactory senses, and his then teenaged optimism was revisited, and amplified tenfold. Doctors Benita and Lori Alvarez were identical twin sisters, and accomplished geneticists and surgeons. Though identical, Benita bore a small lightning bolt shaped scar on her left cheek, the result of a splashed vial of acid. She opted to keep the scar as a reminder that her work demanded the utmost attention to detail, and of her unwavering devotion to research vastly outweighing pulchritude.

Are the good doctors ready to proceed?

Thaddeus, you sound like a nineteen fifties mad scientist, said Benita.

Ignore her Thaddeus, said Lori. You should have seen the campy melodramatics she was spewing after the telomeres success this morning.

I’ll take melodramatic utterances over young Shantz any day, said Agesmith.

He’s certainly making no secret of what he would do were he in your place, said Benita. Scary young man, if you ask me.

Still, he has merit in his surgery over band aids analogy, said Lori.

Two for Shantz, and two for Agesmith, said Agesmith. I’ll take those odds. Ok Doctors, what are the specifics? Can you help Kenny Mullins?

Yes, said Benita, in a return to her dramatic flair. He has been labeled as severely developmentally delayed, and requires twenty four hour care. Prone to erratic outbursts of unintelligible verbal expression, he has been institutionalized for ten of his sixteen years.

Our computer models predict within ninety eight percent assurances that our neural regulators will not manage his condition, but cure it, said Lori. Needless to say, this will revolutionize neurological disorders once thought hopeless.

Fine. The teleporter is standing by. Due to the increased efforts on our detractors’ part in catching us at a potential port, it is now mandatory for a security team to accompany all missions. Joe Qword and a Nemitron Unit will be on this one.

Agesmith walked the twins to the physics lab, where Lloyd Shantz was waiting with Joe Qword. The two had been rather chatty of late, and Agesmith would bet the farm on what subject dominated the conversation. Shantz was checking all systems of the Fusion Sphere, a blue Impervion orb large enough to carry six people, and enough specialized equipment demanded by mission specificity. The Blue Nemitron Unit was a six foot tall, human shaped, featureless, with the exception of a three hundred and sixty degree rotating green light circling its head robot. It was Drecks creation. It had the strength of ten men, speed to match, was indestructible, and carried a plasma rifle, and combat knife. Agesmith wished the need for such a creation was not a necessity, but begrudgingly accepted it for what it was.

Nemitron One is fully autonomous, and ready for any threat, said Joe Qword. Joe always snapped to attention, and saluted smartly in Agesmiths presence, even though he had been repeatedly reminded that it was not necessary. He was dressed in urban cammo, and also carried a plasma rifle and combat knife. Lean, but muscular, Qword had a hard edge to him, from his blond crewcut hair, to the nasty scar on his right forearm. He was every inch the poster child for war hawk.

I appreciate your readiness Joe, said Agesmith, I sincerely hope it is not needed.

Better to be ready than dead, said Joe, saluting again. We have many enemies out there.

Shantz cleared his throat. Sphere is one hundred percent, and the special equipment is aboard Doctors. He addressed all three of the scientists. The Spheres stealth shields have a maximum of two hours duration for this mission, and I am told the procedure takes only an hour. Even accounting for projected difficulties, we have an acceptable margin for delays.

You are a caution, aren’t you Lloyd? Benita smiled at him as she boarded the sphere.Doctor Minerva Troy was the director of the Institute of Autism Spectrum Disorders, and the person who requested the procedure for Kenny. She and two male orderlies escorted the skinny, disheveled Kenny Mullins to the back parking lot. Agesmith watched it all on his monitor in his office. He made it a policy that he observe all missions, either in real time, or recordings of such. It was early morning, and all looked well. Qword and the Nemitron stood alert, as the boy was brought on board. Lori explained the procedural timeline, and told Troy and her staff to return to the center. Once Lori and the security team went aboard, the sphere shimmered from view. The stealth shields worked perfectly. Agesmiths screen went blank momentarily, as the interior telemetry link bounced from a series of orbital re-routers, making any triangulation techniques impossible, if the agencies against them tried, or even thought of that.

The interior of the sphere came back to his screen, and Kenny was sedated for the procedure. A small spot on the back of his head was shaved by Lori, allowing Benita to drill a hole into the boys’ skull. She inserted the Nano bot into the hole, and watched its progress on the monitor as it implanted itself into the Medulla Oblongata. From there it was a tedious process of the bot modifying the micro currents of the brains neuro transmitters, until the frequency, and intensities matched the specifications required for optimal function.

Once the readings were optimal, Lori used FleshMeld to seal the hole. Benita administered a moderate stimulant to negate the effects of the sedative, which would normally wear off in an hour. Time was critical however, and the boy was soon awake, and lucid.

I can talk with my mouth. I pounded on a wall forever. Nobody heard me. Nobody. He sat bolt upright and stared in disbelief at his surroundings. Am I dreaming this?"

No Kenny. You are cured, said Lori. Everything is fine now." The boy stared for a full two minutes, staring at his hands, then broke down and sobbed. Lori hugged him close, tears welling up in her own eyes.Benita joined the tear fest, while Qword and Shantz showed about as much emotion as the Nemitron Unit. It was Shantz who broke up the happy trio with concerns of practicality.

That was a timely event, but we only have eighteen minutes of stealth left.

Benita stuck out her tongue at Shantz, and reluctantly stood up, contacting Director Troy by DreckTech. There was a longer than normal wait for a reply, but soon there was a text telling them to meet in the original spot. The doctors led Kenny from the sphere, with the security detail close behind. From his second monitor it appeared to Agesmith as if they were appearing out of thin air. Besides Doctor Troy, and the orderlies a woman accompanied them. Agesmith recognized her as Joy Mullins, Kenny’s mother. The woman was overcome with happiness, as she conversed with her son for the first time in her life. The twins relayed aftercare instructions to Doctor Troy, while Joe Qword stressed the need for departure. The group was caught up in the emotion of the cure however, and ignored the prompting. Agesmith himself became concerned when six uniformed soldiers advanced on them, accompanied by four civilian police officers.

Doctors Benita, and Lori Alvarez, you are both under Federal arrest for crimes against the United States of America, said the OIC. The twins were swiftly cuffed, and Kenny was screaming at the soldiers to stop. Director Troy voiced her strongest objections, but was also cuffed for interacting with, and receiving services from known criminals.

This is crazy, said Joy Mullins. They cured my son. Please let them go.

Two soldiers dropped to the ground, convulsing violently after a jolt from Qwords stun rod. The other four soldiers rushed him, but fell quickly to his Green Beret combat skills. The four cops were tossed into unconsciousness against a wall by the Nemitron unit. Agesmith was repulsed by the sickening thuds.

The Nemitron unit snapped the cuffs off of the three women, and Qword ushered the twins into the Fusion Sphere. Once inside, Shantz teleported them all back to the complex. Stepping out into the physics lab, they were met by Agesmith.

Sloppy, Sloppy, Sloppy, said Qword. You knew time was of the essence Doctors, and you ignored my urgent warnings to wrap it up.

The procedure was performed in a timely manner, added Shantz. We should have left immediately after confirmation of success. The emotional circus was unnecessary.

For you, you heartless monster, said Benita. It’s a human trait to be overcome in the midst of miracles. She looked to Agesmith for support.

"I agree that it is, but I must argue that given the constraints of our modalities, it is a commodity we cannot afford. That little episode was being filmed by KLMK, an affiliate of the Chandler group. Agesmith switched on the wall monitor, and feed of the soldiers being shocked and convulsing on the ground was followed by the Nemitron unit throwing the soldiers into a wall. Carefully omitted of course were the dramatic pleas of the cuffed doctors, the traumatized teen, and the frantic mother.

Rogue scientists of the supposedly benevolent Extrapolatopia unleashed unprecedented and unwarranted brutality upon innocent soldiers, and police officers in the form of former Green Beret Joseph Qword, and an as yet unnamed machine of immense power. It is this reporters opinion that such destructive mechanisms and actions cannot, even by the most tenuous of definitions constitute the verbalized predilection by Doctor Thaddeus Agesmith.

They’re waging a war in the court of public opinion, said Agesmith. What’s more, the projected demographics strategy paid off for them this time.

It’s a crapshoot then, said Qword. They can’t possibly predict with any accuracy which person in need we will help next.

They could if they devote the resources they have to observe everyone, said Shantz. My plan is the most logical option. In the history of humanity, insofar as we know, there has never been a completely technocratic society. The world governments are theocracy based, and as such, subject to multiple human frailties.

Several days passed before the next mission was solidified. Agesmith too knew the frustration of the mission constraints. The process was too slow. He was always brought back to the band aid versus surgery argument. The monitor showed a total of fifty starving, and diseased cats and dogs languishing in a poorly run shelter. An anonymous tipster notified them, and appealed to their sense of compassion, but defended their anonymity for fear of reprisals by the government. Agesmith was moved by the animals plight, and the welfare of animals, indeed the entire worlds ecology had always been an integral part of the mission statement of Extrapolatopia. He assembled seven of the veterinarian scientists for this mission. This operation involved more than the normal risks, as the owners of this shelter were obviously corrupt, and would present an obstacle. For this reason, night time was chosen, since there should be no human staff present. Joe Qword briefed the vets.

Ok, listen up. Due to space constraints, there will be two vets per port. Once there, you triage ten animals, then we port back here, deposit the animals, and a new vet ports back to the shelter. Should take five trips, and of course we have the two hour time leash imposed by our power limitation. Shantz operates the sphere, while the robot and I provide security. Any questions? When no hands came up, Joe said, Let’s go then.

Grinstead shelter appeared on Agesmiths screen. It was a rundown wooden building, behind which stood six rows of rusty kennels. The spheres materialization caused a flurry of barking from the residents. Qword checked the perimeter with the Nemitron Unit, and signaled to the vets that the area was clear. Doctor Graham was in his seventies, overweight, and huffing, but his heart was full of compassion, as Agesmith had always known. Doctor Gray was a young idealistic vet, fresh out of school, and her lithe, athletic moves were a leftover benefit of her being a high school track star.

These poor babies, said Doctor Gray. She noted that the gates were all padlocked.

The Nemitron unit swiftly snapped off all the locks with a casual twist, and the doctors chose three cats, and seven dogs who looked to be in the worst shape. The animals offered no resistance, probably sensing the good intentions of the doctors. They wasted no time getting the patients on board the sphere, and soon they were back at the complex.

That went really smooth, said Agesmith.

Let’s hope our luck holds out, said Qword, narrowing his eyes. The next two vets were Doctor White, and Doctor Black, former owners of Black and White animal hospital. They were a middle-aged husband and wife team, who could not resist using the wife’s maiden name of white. The sphere pulsed with power once more, but upon return, there was no chorus of barking at the shelter. All of the animals had been shot, and twenty five armed guards confronted the two doctors. Doctor Black was shot in the chest for his outrage over the animals deaths. Doctor White screamed in horror.

The Nemitron unit ran to the scene, snapped the necks of the guards closest to Doctor White, and carried her back into the sphere.Agesmith stood by with a trauma team when they ported back. Doctor White was sobbing hysterically. The trauma doctors escorted Doctor White to the infirmary.

It was a setup, said Qword. They let us believe the mission was a cake walk, and then ambushed us. The question is, now what?

I was hoping it wouldn’t get to this point, but it has. Agesmith turned on the monitor, and there of course was the footage of Nemitron killing the guards, and the reporter spinning it as further proof of evil intent. Agesmith was incensed. He turned on the system wide P.A. All department heads to the conference room ASAP.

The twelve scientists sat around the polished blue Plasticine table, looking expectantly at Agesmith. He scarcely knew what to say, but started anyway. Doctor Black is dead. The details are in your pads. I have a grave decision to make, but I need verbal assessments of certain resources first. Doctor Shantz will start.

All eyes went to the young prodigy, who looked as if he could be giving a high school valedictorian speech. Our Impervion Hull can easily withstand a nuclear blast. We have Twelve Impervion armored Destructors armed with high powered plasma cannons. Top speed is Mach-7, with twenty four hour continuous operation before needing a two hour recharge. They can be programed for specific attacks, but also have autonomous mode when situations warrant its necessity. We have Twelve Nemitron units, also indestructible with the strength of ten Olympic athletes. They are programmed for autonomous operation, and their high speed CPUs assess situation in micro seconds. Each is armed with M-Tech combat knives, and disruptor rifles which can be set to non-lethal, or lethal. More weapons are even now being developed in the robotics lab.

Thank you Doctor Shantz. Doctor Dreck?

Doctor Dreck activated the wall monitor, and a deep sea fleet of blue submarines appeared.

These twelve subs were developed for the U S Navy, but I long ago reserved the right for remote control from here, should it be needed. They each have a fusion reactor, and can operate at peak efficiency for six months before recharging. Since they are Impervion armored, they have no crush depth, and are virtually indestructible. They have stealth shields undetectable by conventional sonar, or hydrophones. They are both EMP proof, and EMP capable. The payload is six Trident torpedoes, Laser cannon, and electro gun.

Agesmith broke in. I imagine you all know what I am considering, and I am open to alternatives.

Doctor Glenda Perkay responded. Doctor Agesmith, I am frankly quite shocked. I was under the distinct impression that we would relentlessly interject the principles of Social Dynamics into the populace, and eliminate the basal urges for violence. Is this not a preferable option?

"You are indeed correct Doctor Perkay. That has always been the objective; however, recent events have escalated the need for a less than optimal course of action. I had hoped we could continue to dispense our gifts to people in need, and that by doing so, the outside world would realize our altruism. The Chandler group has compromised that strategy with its selectively edited broadcasts painting us as murderous rogues.

Joe Qword had a surprisingly clever suggestion. Why don’t we start making videos as well, painting ourselves as we really are? This is Psych. Ops after all.

Several days passed with all planned missions delayed. All department heads contributed to the making of a special video demonstration of all that the complex offered.

Doctor Agesmith finished watching the final product in the screening room, and felt quite pleased. It was exactly how he had envisioned it. He turned to Dreck and Shantz. Are you certain you can pull this off? He felt foolish for even asking, considering the fact that these two men had made a teleportation machine. He attributed it to his eagerness to enlighten the world.

Our video will interrupt all other broadcasts, on every station, said Dreck, trying hard to disguise his indignation.

Shantz did not try to hide his. Of course we’re certain Doctor Agesmith. This is Childs play compared to invisibility, teleportation, Impervion. Shantz leveled his gaze directly at Agesmith. Should I go on?

No, forgive me Doctors. I just want this to work. I would like to avoid any more violence.

This will air tonight, during primetime, said Doctor Dreck. I daresay we should do well in the ratings. Drecks mouth formed a jagged crack, which for him was a reasonable facsimile of a grin.

If it doesn’t work, said Shantz, we have an amazing arsenal being constructed in the robotics and engineering sections. Either option places us as the winners.PRIMETIME. We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to share our vision of the future, a future that is here now. Recent attempts to share our wondrous gifts have resulted in violent attacks on our science teams by the Chandler group, and the Government. They are committed to stopping us at all costs due to our dispensing these miracles for free. The alternative is their selling these innovations at exorbitant prices, and making billions in profit. We are not your enemies. Corporate greed is. Gaze now upon the many wonders we can provide. The video was a series of dramatizations performed by the scientists and technicians.

LET THE WORLD SEE. A young woman removes bandages, and sees her family for the first time.

LET THE PARALYZED MOVE FREELY. A man rises out of a wheelchair, slowly at first, until realization sets in, and he walks around his hospital room.

LET THE EARTH BREATHE. Futuristic vehicles, some driving on roads, some flying, are powered by clean fusion energy. The fusion engines are shown from all sides, as the narrator extolls the virtues, as well as a layman’s explanation of the fusion process, and a computer simulation of the sun.

STARVATIONS END. Syntho Food is shown coming in multiple flavors, textures, and shapes, and is produced in the lab using no animal products, and ending the need for hunting. A smiling family is shown enjoying a bountiful dinner of Syntho Food.

These are just the tip of the iceberg. Many previously incurable diseases, and conditions are now curable, not the least of which is the common cold. Extrapolatopia seeks to improve the world on all levels, and asks nothing in return except freedom from attacks. Video ends.

Public opinion polls were reported across the networks to have elevated an average of thirty percent in favor of Extrapolatopia. Agesmith was pleased, though he would have hoped for a higher percentage. Joe Qword rushed in from the communications hub, his face frowned with concern.

Director, we have a situation. General Stern, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff is on monitor now, and he wants to talk with you.

Agesmith went to the monitor, as anxiety welled from within. The grim steely visage aptly lived up to its name. Agesmith, I have in my custody, Lucretia Aims, Grady Stennis, Grant Mossberg, Judy Lange, Hal Townsend, Shelley Burke, Lindsey Harms, Richard Juarez, Rico Lopez, and Tina Duarte. I’ll pause right there to let that sink in.

The last names corresponded to the surnames of nine of his scientists. Agesmith felt his heart in his stomach. Has the United States Military sunk so low as to take innocent hostages?

Protective custody Doctor. My terms are unconditional surrender. The General obviously could not resist a smirk. Agesmith needed to stall.

General, you have to understand how things work around here. First of all, there is a timed lockdown on the complex. This was implemented after the last mission ended in the death of Doctor Winston Black. We cannot open the facility for seventy two hours, and there is no override.

What idiot made that a procedure?

Agesmith could not resist a smirk of his own. You drafted that as a provisional defense in the event of all-out war General.

The General thought for a moment. I’ll be dammed, curse me if you’re not right Agesmith. Bit me right on the ass. You’re telling me not even Shantz, or that freak Dreck can over-ride that? The General narrowed his eyes.

There’s more. We operate as a true democracy in here General. As much as you like to think I make all the decisions that simply is not true. We all decide on major issues, and we must have a two thirds consensus. Even were that not the case, there is still the lockdown. Agesmith hoped his bluff worked, at least to buy them time.

Agesmith, I have no choice but to play it your way, but if those big cargo doors don’t slide open in exactly seventy two hours from now. Well, just say some very frightened sons, daughters, husbands, and wives will begin to depart this mortal plane. Static.

Nice bluff Director, said Joe Qword. Gives us time to plan.

Exactly my intent Joe, but plan what?

This is more up my alley than yours Doc, but I’ll need help from some of your eggheads. Joe Qword rubbed his hands together.The main advantage enjoyed by Extrapolatopia was teleportation, and invisibility, but the first task was finding the nine hostages. Joe Qword had insisted on twenty four hour secret surveillance on the scientists whose family members were held. Agesmith had to agree. As a psychiatrist he knew anyone could be compromised, so it was vital to know if any of them did anything to sabotage operations. It was for this reason they were kept in the dark regarding mission specifics. The global satellite surveillance system covered virtually every grid square on the planet, and the approximate timeframes of the nine abductions were narrowed down to a seven hour period. Joe had his entire ten person team meticulously monitor those seven hours. Each agent sped up the footage to reduce the entire seven hours down to two hours.

This will take careful attention to detail, said Qword. Once we locate them we have special devices developed by Dreck and Shantz to facilitate rescue.

I’ve been reviewing personnel files, said Agesmith. There are over four hundred more possible hostages that they will undoubtedly target. These nine are only the first. Even if we rescue them all, they would only be safe here, essentially prisoners. I don’t imagine that to be to their liking.

I thought of that too, said Qword. If it comes to that, they have no choice but to integrate, but I would insist they wear monitor bands. The disgruntled have a habitual need for revenge.

Hmm. So far not quite the Utopia I had envisioned when we started all this.

Gotta break some eggs to make an omelet Doc. Qword looked to be enjoying these events, which was understandable considering his background. He was at heart a thrill seeker, and that is how Agesmith described him during the vetting process prior to his assignment here.

Interestingly enough it was Shantz who came up with a working solution to the probable additional hostages. Agesmith knew the young genius viewed it as a tactical problem needing a solution, rather than any compassion driven eureka moment. Agesmith had accepted Shantz lack of humanity in light of his many innovations.

We know all of their locations, and so far they are all free. I have hundreds of Biodrones, my personal invention for individual combat troops to be deployed in case of separation from their units, and subsequent periods of isolation. Shantz pressed a button on his wristband, and activated the silver metal sphere on the table in front of him. It hovered in the air, and delivered a message.

FOLLOW MY ORDERS IF YOU WANT TO LIVE, came the inflectionless voice.

Agesmith smiled at Shantz. Really Shantz? I never figured you for a movie watcher.

Shantz shrugged while the message continued. I GENERATE A FORCE FIELD FOR TWO HOURS. STAY IN THE FIELD. LASER BEAMS PROVIDE OFFENSIVE CAPABILITIES. OUR DESTINATION IS TO SAFETY. For dramatic effect, Shantz had the machine melt a small block of steel on the table with an intense laser beam.

Safety will be tube twelve, which is actually an Impervion armored, high speed plane, Doctor Drecks creation, said Shantz. We will of course have to convert two of our biggest storage bays into temporary housing, until more permanent lodgings are prepared.Agesmith nodded. He felt optimistic and awed simultaneously.

Tina Duarte could smell the human waste from the toilet in her cell. There was no telling how long ago it had been cleaned. The smell was nauseating, as was the cigarette smoke assailing her nostrils from the guards in the hall adjacent to the rows of cells. She had complained to the guards every time she saw them, but all they did was laugh. Three times a day they would deliver a bowl of disgusting gruel, and a bottle of water. She forced herself to eat it no matter how bad it tasted. She needed to keep her strength up. Her cell had only a toilet, a cot, and a small table upon which the bowl of gruel would sit. Tina had nothing to occupy her thoughts save for piecing together why she and the other prisoners were being held. She herself was a graduate student in chemistry, with only a semester to go, which at the moment seemed unlikely to happen. She heard the names of some of the other captives, and it quickly became apparent that they were all bargaining chips. Her mother was Barbara Duarte, a leading biologist, and one of the rogues who commandeered a research facility. Tina should have seen this coming, but refused to believe that the United States Government would stoop to the tactics of a third world country. She heard footsteps. From the combination of cheap cologne and tobacco, she knew it was Private Grispin. He was fresh out of high school, and joined the Army, lacking any other prospects. His ASVAB score was so low he only qualified for infantry. All this she learned from listening in on guard banter.

Chow time Duarte, said Grispin, leering at her. MMM, smells so good. He laughed raucously as he slid the tray in through the sliding egress. Hope your Mommy can convince those eggheads to give us back that fort they hijacked, or else… Grispin made a slicing gesture with his finger across his neck."

It’s actually a state of the art research facility Private, and your right, this does smell delectable. She spooned some into her mouth, and could have won an academy award pretending to delight in its taste. My compliments to the chef, who had to have graduated magna cum laude from a Cordon Bleu institution. Bravo, top shelf.

Huh? Grispin stared at her with the look of a dead goldfish floating on the surface.

Oh, delectable means it’s good.

It is? Were the last words ever spoken by Private Grispin before he was disintegrated by a laser beam emanating from a floating silver sphere the size of a basketball. The same sphere melted the lock on Tina’s cell door, which now swung open.

FOLLOW MY ORDERS IF YOU WANT TO LIVE. I GENERATE A FORCE FIELD FOR TWO HOURS. STAY IN THE FIELD. LASER BEAMS PROVIDE OFFENSIVE CAPABILITIES. OUR DESTINATION IS SAFETY.

Tina did as she was bid. She knew almost immediately that this wondrous machine had to be a product of Extrapolatopia. She could hear several squads of guards rushing in from other areas of wherever here was. Three guards came into her cell area, rifles pointing at her and the sphere. She had never been on the business end of a gun before, and her pulse pounded furiously. The sphere advanced, as if to go through the guards like they were not even there. She felt herself pulled along, obviously the effect of the force field. The guards opened fire, but to no effect. The bullets were not only halted, but also atomized. Despite the danger, Tina marveled at the advanced engineering of the sphere, and wondered if the legendary Doctor Dreck had built it.

As they moved into the corridor, she saw the same scene being played out with the other prisoners, each with a sphere assigned to them. Soldiers were running away in panic after seeing their comrades vaporized before them. Soon there was no opposition. The machines gave further orders.

STAND STILL. NOW BOARDING TURBO TUBE.

The immense blue tube hovered fifty feet above them, and Tina found herself floating, actually rising up towards the tube. The other prisoners rose as well, a perfect demonstration of anti-gravity. She emerged onto the tube, and normal gravity allowed her to regain her feet. There were rows of comfortable seats, and everyone sat in them, knowing things would be better now.

Storage bays one and two were repurposed with partitioned living spaces designed to accommodate two people. Human technicians worked alongside robotic counterparts, and in less than two days, the two bays were able to house all four hundred and twenty targeted individuals. Some of them were less than enchanted with the situation while others, obviously of above average intelligence decided to make the best of things. Agesmith would assess them all, culling whatever skills and knowledge they had, and integrate them into a prototypical technocratic society. That was after all the original goal.

Well, said Qword, that wraps up any leverage from the outside.

Yes, I just regret having to take so many lives. Why aren’t the spheres equipped with non-lethal capabilities?

Originally cost, and design space limitation, said Shantz, joining them. They were designed for battleground efficiency, and said efficiency lends itself to lethality in that theatre. Shantz