BRAINSTORM

Chapter Thirty-four - Aliens or worse.

Jack paced his apartment, resisting the urge to pour himself a drink, when he received a text from Elvis: Jack, can I come over? Need to talk.

In five minutes, Elvis was at his door. He looked bad. His hair was disheveled, and he seemed to have lost a lot of weight since Jack had last seen him. He'd already been thin to start with; now he looked like a skeleton. Perspiration speckled his forehead, and the edge of his collar was stained with sweat.

Jack peppered him with questions and comments. "Elvis, you look like hell. Come in. What are you doing here? Why the sudden change of mind to start talking to me again? Where the hell have you been?"

Elvis's head jerked back as if the questions amounted to a physical assault. "Um, can I sit down, please?"

Jesus, Jack, can't you see he's scared already? his conscience admonished. "Yeah, sorry. Sit anywhere."

Elvis chose an armchair in the sitting area by the window, and Jack joined him.

"So, why did you change your mind?"

Elvis shrugged in a jittery manner. It looked like he was being electrocuted. His eyes bulged more than normal. "I began to realize I shouldn't trust Maxwell to keep his word."

Jack brought his eyebrows close together. "His word about what, Elvis?"

"That he wouldn't kill me if I didn't say anything about what I saw."

Jack grasped the arms of his chair and leaned forward. "I think you'd better start from the beginning."

Elvis nodded. "Yeah, okay." He looked around skittishly. "Can I have a glass of water?"

Jack puffed out a breath. He pointed to the kitchen. "Over there. Help yourself." He watched as Elvis poured himself a glass of water. His hands trembled badly, and the drops of perspiration on his forehead had multiplied. He threw his head back and swallowed the water in one gulp as if it were a shot of tequila.

Compassion made Jack move to stand beside, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, do you need something stronger?"

Elvis appeared grateful for the offer. "That might be a good idea. How about a gin and tonic?"

"Sure. I'll make us each one. You go sit back down, and I'll be there in a minute."

Jack prepared the drinks and carried them back to the sitting area. He handed one to Elvis, who immediately took a large sip. Jack seated himself and waited for Elvis to begin.

Elvis took another sip and followed it up with a loud sigh. He settled back in his chair and began his story. "About a week ago I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a walk, you know?"

Jack nodded, impatient to hear the rest.

Elvis swallowed some more of his drink. "Well, I heard a noise down the hall, someone talking to himself, and I don't know what got into me, but I decided to see who it was. As it turned out, it was Maxwell. I could see him, but he hadn't seen me yet, and then I got another stupid idea. I started to follow him."

Jack raised his eyebrows. He wouldn't have expected that from Elvis. "What made you do that?"

Elvis shook his head. "I don't even really know. It was late, and like I said, I couldn't sleep. Part of the reason I couldn't sleep was because I kept thinking about Tabula Rasa—you know, wondering what they were like. Kind of a morbid curiosity, I guess. Plus, a little guilt—"

Jack interrupted. "So, anyway, you followed Maxwell."

Elvis nodded. "Yes, but at a distance. It wasn't that hard not to be noticed, because he was making a lot of noise. He walked with heavy steps and never stopped muttering to himself. The only time he was quiet was when he had to enter security codes to get through the doors."

Jack blinked in confusion. "Wait a minute. How did you get through the doors after him if you needed a code?"

Elvis finished his drink and placed the glass on the side table adjacent to his chair. "I was able to see a little bit. Plus, I listened. I have a talent for figuring out a code by sound. Anyway, the code was simple, just 1011. And they were all the same, too."

Jack pressed his lips together and thought. "That date seems familiar."

"Yeah, I don't know." Elvis brushed aside Jack's comment and continued. "So I followed him through all these doors until we got close to the Tabula Rasa center. And when he got there, I saw this tall guy in a suit waiting for him."

Jack slapped a hand to his forehead. "Hold on, I got it. That's the founding date of CIRAS, October 11. Not a very secure code. Sorry for interrupting. Go on."

Elvis wrung his hands together. "Mind if I get another drink first?"

"No, go ahead."

Elvis got up, and Jack contemplated the strange curve of the window to his right. It was convoluted, just like CIRAS. He turned away and sipped his gin and tonic.

It was good that Elvis had given him the security codes. He and Ellen could skip the step of grabbing the list and go directly to the TR Center. It would save potentially crucial time.

Elvis collapsed back in his chair. He wasn't sweating as much now. Maybe talking had helped, or maybe it was the alcohol. Either way, he didn't seem as panicked.

"Who was the man in the suit?" 

"I don't know. But they seemed to know each other well. Not friends exactly, but almost like business partners."

"What happened next?"

"Maxwell opened the door to the actual TR Center, and I caught a quick glimpse of the inside, and I freaked. I ran in the other direction and forgot to be quiet."

Jack unconsciously leaned forward. "What did you see?"

"Nothing too specific. Just creepy dark rooms with these pale, alien-looking figures inside. They definitely didn't look human. I panicked. I know I shouldn't have. It was stupid." Elvis's cheeks turned red with embarrassment.

"You didn't see anything else?"

"No, like I said, I panicked."

"Did Maxwell catch you after that?"

"Not right then, but the surveillance cameras had already caught me. The next morning, he called me to his office and told me that if I let anyone know what I had seen, he would kill me. He said it just like that as if it were no big deal." Elvis shifted his gaze to the window.

"I can believe that," Jack said, recalling his run-in with Maxwell. "Anything else?"

"Well, he also wanted to make sure I didn't tell anyone about the man who was with him."

That was a curious thing for Maxwell to demand. Jack commented, "But you said you didn't recognize him."

Elvis shrugged. "That didn't seem to matter." Elvis looked at his drink but apparently decided against taking another swig. He stared at Jack. "I want to help you end it. Those things, people, whatever they are—the TR group—it isn't right. They have to be freed, rescued . . . something. . ." His words trailed off.

Jack met Elvis's eyes. "Let me tell you what we have planned."

~~~

As soon as Elvis left, Jack's dread returned. It had been too long. He should have heard from Ellen by now. Damn it. Should he go to Maxwell's apartment, or would that put her in more danger? He slammed his palm against the wall, and the blow reverberated harmlessly through its surface.

It was difficult to decide what to do. Adrenaline pumped insistently through his blood and implored him to act. His strongest and most primitive impulse was to run to her. But maybe everything was going fine. Maybe she would be back here in a few hours, telling him that Scott was unconscious. Then they could continue with their plan. Or maybe, if she came back, he should just convince her and Elvis to leave this place with him.

Jack was used to being in control. Now feelings of doubt and hesitation invaded his brain like hallucinogens. Then something primal took over, annihilating thoughts and replacing them with movement he couldn't control.