Bunker Ten, page 5
part #1 of Dark Scotland Series
“There’s a new simulation we’ve been developing,” he said. “A new concept entirely. Makes Alaska ‘45 look like a PlayStation. We’re talking a scientific breakthrough of astonishing proportions.”
“What’s a PlayStation?”
“Before your time.” The Colonel made some notations on his chart. “I’ve been recruiting a team to test this new simulation,” he said. “Now I need a leader with an… innovative approach.”
“You want me to test this new simulation?” Sherman goggled.
The Colonel put his hands on the desk and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he spoke.
“I won’t beat around the bush, Sherman,” he said coldly. “You certainly weren’t my first choice. Or second. Or third.”
“Right. Don’t spare my feelings or anything.”
“Let’s just say that unforeseen circumstances have forced me to go ahead with the test immediately.” The Colonel pursed his lips. “And you’re all that’s available at such short notice.”
He gave a disapproving grunt.
“You do have experience of unusual virtual situations.”
“Yeah. I get stuck with all the wacky ones.”
“You also have a low rank among testers because you’re not serious about what you do.”
“That’s because none of it is real,” Sherman protested. “No matter how loud the gunfire is or how many bombs are going off, you can’t react the way you would in battle if you know you’re in a simulation.”
“Really?” The officer folded his arms. “Then you might be in for a shock.”
“What do you mean?”
The Colonel looked uncertain for the first time.
“This new experiment isn’t like anything that’s ever been done before,” he admitted. “There are certain characters in the simulation that learn and develop, just like the bear. They were designed to rise above their programming, if you like. To reason. To have independent thought. They don’t even know they’re in a game….”
He was momentarily at a loss for words, as if the concept was almost too great for him. Sherman shared the feeling.
“That’s impossible,” he said.
“Not any more.”
“You mean, once we’re inside the simulation, there’s no telling how these characters will react?”
“Exactly.” The Colonel sat back.
“They’re not bears are they?”
“No.”
“Then what will I be up against? German Stormtroopers? Terrorists?” A quizzical smile played across his lips. “Space Aliens?”
The Colonel didn’t return the smile.
“Teenagers,” he said, shutting the chart.
16.30
Cruickshank sat in the briefing room with Major Cowper and Lieutenant Dunwoody. He had reluctantly taken off his headphones, although nobody was actually talking. Cowper’s disapproval of the situation, however, was written all over his face.
The door opened and Commander Saunders, head of the base, entered along with a balding, pale faced man in a lab coat. Cruickshank had never seen him before. The Commander gave a perfunctory salute which was returned by Cowper and Dunwoody.
“Lieutenant Dunwoody, this is Doctor Monk.” The Commander indicated the man in the lab coat. “He’s in charge of Project Flower, down on level six, and he’ll bring you up to speed with what’s been going on there. The lad is James Cruickshank,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“Glad to meet you all,” Cruickshank said agreeably, smiling around.
“Project Flower is highly classified,” Cowper said, glaring at the boy. “What we are about to tell you stays between us.” His eyes glittered with angry intensity. “If you talk about this to anyone, you will know trouble in a way your clever little mind cannot even conceive. Do you understand?”
Cruickshank nodded.
“Say it.”
“I understand. Sir.”
“That’ll do Major,” Commander Saunders said quietly. Monk put his hands behind his back and coughed.
“What do you know about genetics Lieutenant?” he asked Dunwoody.
“I’ve seen Jurassic Park.” The Lieutenant’s face was impassive. “I’m just a soldier, sir. But you tell me what’s going on in plain English and I’ll understand.”
The Commander and Monk exchanged a tense look. Cowper was still glowering at Cruikshank.
“Put simply, Lieutenant, all creatures evolve,” Monk said. “We evolved from apes, they evolved from lower mammals and we all evolved from single celled creatures floating in the sea millions of years ago.” The Doctor unclasped his hands from behind his back, warming to his subject. “Evolution takes a long time.”
“I follow you so far.”
“Project Flower was an attempt to speed that process up. A successful attempt, I might add.”
Cruickshank tore his eyes away from Cowper and listened to Monk with growing astonishment.
“All animals harbour what’s called ‘Junk’ DNA – that’s genetic material that has been switched off during the evolutionary process and now doesn’t seem to actually do anything. Let me put it in context - the function of 97% of human DNA is largely unknown.”
Monk looked down at himself as if annoyed to be part of such a mystery.
“We’ve been playing around with the idea that junk DNA could provide a reservoir from which advantageous new genes could be built.” He cast a glance over the table. “Still with me?”
Dunwoody and Cowper nodded. Monk turned to Cruickshank. “What about you?”
“There are also theories that junk DNA might act as a buffer against harmful mutations,” the boy said. “They obviously have some importance, because animals as diverse as mice and humans have identical strings of the stuff.”
“He’s not stupid, is he?” Monk looked approvingly at the Commander. Cowper gave a heartfelt sigh but said nothing.
“As a matter of fact, we’ve been experimenting on the junk DNA in mice,” Monk continued. “We were interested in taking it apart and putting it together to see if we could improve the creatures. And… eh…we’re fairly sure it worked.”
“In what way?” Lieutenant Dunwoody was keen to get past the science lesson and on to the reason he was here.
“One of the mice seems smarter than normal.”
“You mean it can go through a maze faster than others, that kind of thing?”
“I mean it escaped.”
Lieutenant Dunwoody narrowed his eyes. “You better not be telling me I’ve been brought here to catch a damned mouse.”
“The mouse isn’t the problem,” Major Cowper said coldly. “And you’ll do whatever…”
“It bit someone.” Monk interrupted “A girl called May Rose.”
“May Rose?...” Cruickshank started, but a look from Major Cowper silenced him.
“With all due respect sir,” Dunwoody looked round at the Commander. “I've been bitten by lots of things, including my ex-wife. What exactly is the problem?”
“As the boy pointed out, humans and mice share identical strings of junk DNA. The bite seems to have infected her on a genetic level.”
“Where is she now?” Dunwoody said, still anxious to get at the facts he thought important.
“Under observation in level six. The staff refer to the area as Bunker 10, though I’ve no idea why.”
The Commander opened the door and Cruickshank could see the backs of two armed guards in the corridor. “I’m taking you down there after the briefing so you can see for yourself.”
“Excuse me.” The boy raised his hand tentatively. “Sorry, but you can’t transfer genetic material through a bite. You just can’t.”
“I know,” Monk scowled. “At least, it shouldn’t be possible.”
Cruickshank hesitated, afraid to push it. But why did they ask him here if they didn’t want his input?
“What exactly did you do to this mouse?” he said.
Monk looked at the Commander, his jaw knotting and unknotting. Saunders nodded.
“We don’t know,” the doctor said miserably.
16.40
Sherman studied his team through a two way mirror. There were three of them, sitting at the table in the Colonel’s office. Sherman hadn’t known the mirror was a spying device. He wondered how many times he’d been observed in there.
There were two men and a woman in the room. The Colonel pointed to the female first.
“That’s Madrid”
“Colourful name.”
“It’s probably an alias,” the Colonel said. “She’s been sent to assist us by High Command and arrived this morning.” The Colonel’s sarcastic tone made it clear that he was far from happy with this ‘assistance’. “Not my decision, but there’s nothing I can do.”
Madrid was tall, probably taller than Sherman, with a wiry, athletic body. Her face was tanned and pretty in a healthy farm-girl way and she had shoulder length, honey blonde curls. Sherman nodded appreciatively.
“Don’t let the innocent face fool you,” the Colonel said. “She’s trained in counter intelligence – could probably take you apart with her bare hands.”
“What a way to die.”
The Colonel grunted.
“The other two are from my personal team. Used them before to good effect.”
“In virtual games or real life?”
“Both. Tall, thin guy is Darren. Like you he’s not a soldier. He’s a whiz kid with computers and electronics. A gamer. The other guy, the pretty one, is Nulce.”
Sherman studied the youngest team member. Nulce had a baby face and mannerisms to match. He was fidgeting in his seat, seemingly bored, his eyes flitting from Madrid to Darren.
“Nulce. That a code name too?”
“No it’s just a stupid name.”
“What does he do?”
The Colonel raised a greying eyebrow.
“He kills people.”
16.58
Cruickshank was disappointed.
Bunker 10 had more exotic equipment than the higher levels and there was an air of mystery to it, especially the sets of sealed Biohazard rooms, each one covered in warning symbols. But, all in all, the deepest lab wasn’t much different from the workplaces he had been using before.
Six white coated technicians inhabited this particular area. All of them looked exhausted, bent over computers and typing furiously. In the centre of the room were a set of glass containers filled with coloured liquid - each with wires leading to a particular terminal. One container was bubbling. Dunwoody was in the corner with Major Cowper talking in low tones. Cruickshank yawned.
A fat technician, his beard dotted with crumbs, looked up from a console,
“Hey kid. How about making us some tea?”
Cruickshank’s eyes widened.
“What’s 1267 times 3657?” he asked.
“Eh?” The technician raised his hands in bewilderment. “I don’t know.”
“Four million, six hundred and thirty three thousand, four hundred and nineteen.” Cruickshank folded his arms. “Why don’t you make the tea and let me sit there? By the time you come back I’ll have solved whatever problem seems to be causing you so much trouble.”
The technician stared at him for a long time, stroking his beard. He glanced across at Monk.
“Kid’s got clearance.” Doctor Monk said neutrally. Cowper tutted again.
“Name’s Olly.” The fat man beckoned the boy over. “See this structure on the screen?”
Cruickshank sat next to him. On the computer console was an intricate spiralling structure labelled MR12.
“Looks like a DNA string. But I’ve never seen one like it before.”
Olly seemed impressed.
“It doesn’t occur naturally. We been mixing up the junk DNA in lab mice.”
“And you’re not sure what it does?”
“It’s made one mouse smarter. But we don’t know how or why.” The bearded technician gave a wry cough and lowered his voice. “We’re not even sure how we did it. We’ve tried repeating the experiment but we never get the same result.”
Cruickshank looked across to where Dunwoody and Cowper were now in a heated whispered discussion. The woman at the next console was staring at her screen as if the answer to life might suddenly appear there. The rest of the assistants were just as intense.
“I don’t want to seem naive,” the boy said. “But I don’t see the big fuss. It might take a while, but you’ll figure it out. It’s a mouse.”
Olly looked awkwardly at him.
“This sample isn’t from the mouse. It’s from that girl called May-Rose. We took it after the mouse bit her.”
“This is impossible. You can’t alter someone’s DNA like that. Not through a bite. Not even if it transferred blood!”
“That’s what we thought.” Olly put his head in both hands. “But it happened.”
Cruickshank stared at the screen, transfixed by the unfamiliar spirals, studded with unknown combinations of genetic material.
“What’s actually happened to May Rose?”
“We’re not sure.” Olly pursed his lips. “She’s in isolation now, under constant guard.”
“Then instead of fiddling around with your computer simulations wouldn’t it be best to talk to her?”
“We tried.” Olly said slowly. “Sent in four technicians to interview her. They’re all dead.”
Cruickshank gave a start. The blonde woman at the next computer stopped typing, a look of alarm spreading across her face.
“Olly,” she whispered urgently. “He’s a kid.”
“So was May-Rose!”
“What do you mean was?” Cruickshank said quietly. The rest of the assistants had stopped working and were watching the exchange, faces tense and grey.
“Just leave it!” the blonde woman hissed.
“What do you think this boy is doing down here?” The fat technician’s face had gone bright red. Cruickshank couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment. “You think they asked him here for his expertise, Goddammit?” He slammed his fist onto the computer keyboard. The blond closed her eyes. The others looked quickly away.
“I’ll make that tea,” Cruickshank said, a sinking feeling opening in the pit of his stomach.
“Don’t have time for that, son. Lieutenant Dunwoody walked over and laid a calming hand on Olly’s shoulder.
“We’re going to go see May-Rose.”
- Part 3 -
17.00 hours – 18.00 hours
I spent thirty-three years and four months in active military service... And during that period I spent most of my time being a high-class muscle man for big business.
Major General Smedley Butler
Meme: An element of culture or system of behaviour that may be considered to be passed from an individual to another by non-genetic means
- Oxford English Dictionary
17.00
The children had set up a circle of chairs in the dormitory. Cruickshank and May-Rose were both missing, presumed to be in Bunker 10. The rest leaned close together and kept their voices low.
“I say we need a plan, man.” Diddy Dave had obviously been thinking along the same lines as Jimmy. “If the army get a scooby that we’ve got the secret of faster than light travel, they’ll nick it like a shot, know?”
“What do you mean we?” Simon gave Dave a venomous look. “I discovered it, remember?”
“Aye, ok. Keep yir kecks on, wee man.”
“Let’s all agree on one thing right away,” said Jimmy Hicks. “Whatever happens, Simon gets the credit for this.”
The other children nodded.
“The simplest thing to do is to keep quiet for the moment.” The whiteboard had been wiped clean and Simon’s workings were stored away in inoffensive file on his computer. “And we need to hide a hard copy of the formula somewhere, so that we can use it as security.”
“Could we email it to someone?”
“Like who? Anyway you can be sure the military monitors all communications to the outside.” Jimmy beckoned them even closer. “But there’s an old dried up well in the forest, not far from the back gate. It’s deep. When Leslie and I sneak out tonight we should take a copy of the formula in a sealed bag. Drop it in there on the way out.”
Simon was silent.
“What?”
The boy looked at the ground. “I was thinking that there’s nothing to stop you from keeping the formula and not coming back.” He kept his eyes down, but his voice was trembling with emotion. “Take all the credit.”
“Dinnae take a flaky, wee man.” Dave cut in. “Hicksy wouldnae dae that.”
“Well, why can’t we all go?” Simon was insistent. “What if Cruikshank tells top brass about the equation?”
“Why would he?” Jimmy replied brusquely. “He’s selfish but he’s not stupid. The army would treat him as a security risk and lock him up.” He sat down beside his friend, his voice softening.
“We need to know if this escape route will work, Simon. If Leslie and I get caught, we can tell them the truth – that we wanted to go on a date.”
You don’t really think they’d believe you,” Simon insisted.
“No. But they can’t prove otherwise.” Leslie shot back. “On the other hand, if everyone gets caught sneaking out, we’ll be interrogated until someone breaks. You know that. Besides, we can’t leave without Cruikshank and May-Rose.”
Jimmy looked into the boy’s eyes.
“Simon. We’re your family. Trust us.”
“Aye, ye wee bam. You’re like a sister tae me.”
Simon took a deep breath.
“All right then. Let’s stop wasting time and put this escape plan into operation.”
17.10
Sherman sat down for the first time with his new team. Each had a folder open in front of them, filled with maps and specifications. The Colonel stood at the head of the table, hands on his hips.
“I have a big problem,” he said matter of factly. “And it needs sorted right now.”
