The Project - Chapter two:
Thanks for the comments from last chapter, had a few encouraging ones. Things becoming slightly clearly in this chapter, slightly. Big thanks to Tom for proofing this one for me. Thanks to Jeff and Seth for being Jeff and Seth:) Go read their stories, 'Twist of Fate' and 'Common People' respectively if you want some great stories to go and read those two! Anyway, feedback is greatly appreciated, I had a small amount of positive feedback last chapter, not loads, but not nothing. Something along those same levels would be appreciated this time, even, maybe even especially, from the same people, just so I know they're still reading:) I'm open to any suggestions and negative comments as well. Legal matters, this story means to imply nothing regarding the sexuality of any of the characters involved. The story line itself is fictional, and in no means attempts to imply that any of the events, ideas of notions in this story are based off reality.
The cars pulled into the underground parking lot of the agency office, and the five young men, as well as the various suits all walked out. The man in command left last, before taking the lead to the elevator door, signalling everyone to pile in.
"Why are we going down?" Joey asked after a few seconds.
"Because the complex is underground possibly?" The commander replied.
"Where is this place? This isn't any FBI facility. Who are you? I've seen FBI agents before, and you don't look like one. Why did you remove us from the plane?"
"Lots of questions. You were removed from the plane for valid reasons, and I'm from a suitable authority. That'll satisfy your questions."
"Look, we're going right back to the parking lot and we're outta here unless you give us some straight answers" Joey responded rather angrily.
"Well, we're already here, how about you walk out the elevator and into the main facility."
"And I've never heard of an English FBI agent either."
"That's nice. This way please gentlemen." The commander said. As the five guys walked into the hallway they all collapsed to the floor as a quick light flashed from the ceiling. "Take them through to the medical complex. I want to figure out what they did to them. Get rid of their memories, implant false ones, and have them walk out the doors of FBI headquarters. Inform me as soon as you get any information. I'm going to check on the recovery of any wreckage from the ship." With that he walked back into the elevator.
"Main facility, authorisation code alpha 010." As before the lift doors slid open onto the mid atlantic compound, the main room being more of a hive of activity as scientists were walking across the floor.
"Commander on deck!" the officer he left in command said jumping to his fleet. He got a slight nod in acknowledgement.
"As you were. Progress?"
"Orbital scans have found several memory fragments. We're working on recovery now. The majority of the computer core was destroyed, but it looks like the backup memory cores have survived, as well as a few fragments from the main database."
"How long till we have what we can get?"
"2 hours, maybe 3."
"Ok. Get Owen into my office. I have a task for him."
"Aye sir." With that he walked out of the command centre and headed down the corridor. He paused slightly at the door marked 'Associate Senior Director of International Security Council' The door slid back silently, and he entered his office.
"Sir!" The young officer sitting on the nearside of his desk said jumping to his feet.
"At ease young man. I've got a job for you. You know slightly more than most people your age, you're the youngest person in this agency."
"Probably due to the fact I'm your son?"
"Probably. You've wanted some active duty, and I've got you some. Undoubtedly you heard about the incursion earlier. Well, I want you to keep your eye on a boy band group called N Sync. They were taken aboard the enemy vessel for nine minutes, and whatever it as for, they got killed for it. I want you to make sure nothing bad happens to fall upon them. You've got the full agency resources behind you, so don't be afraid to use them."
"Effective immediately?"
"Yes. They are currently under medical analysis at the main facility in Matthew's. Head down their, check on the progress and then keep an eye on them. Report back to me directly at regular intervals."
"Ok sir."
"Dismissed." With that the 19 year old man walked out of the office, leaving his Dad, who was now in his early 50s sitting behind the desk. He had not had much contact with his son, it tended to bring back some memories of the incidents that lead to his birth. He had never wanted children, his position made them damned neigh impossible. He had been involved with the ISC since it was founded in 1965, when he was a similar age to his son now, and had ended up as being joint in command of the world's most powerful, but unknown, hidden agency. He was probably the most powerful man in the world.
When he said something happened, it happened. Owen however was something that he hadn't wished for. He was the result of a brief relationship with a long time friend. Shortly after Owen was born, his mother died, and he had been left to make sure Owen made it through life well. He never took a major active part in his upbringing, but he always got everything he needed.
He had been brought up in the agency, and became part of it as a scientist. The command of the ISA didn't like the fact he had such a major Achilles heel however, the fact he was emotionally attached to someone, even though he never let it show.
As soon as Owen left the room and the doors shut behind him he almost jumped for joy. This was his first major active role outside of the science division, and with some famous people, who, to be frank, was fond of. Owen had considered himself to be gay for a couple of years now, but never had much opportunity to see many guys outside of those in the compound, most of whom tended to be older anyway. He didn't associate with kids his age much except through the internet, and only left the compound once a month, still more than most people did though. He liked his position though, he was the son of a very powerful man, and he had a lot of respect. His Dad may have got him into the agency initially, but he earned his keep with his colleagues.
"Computer, main research facility, medical department." The doors of the transportation device opened onto the subterranean research and development facility, located under Matthew's Air Force Base, White Sands.
"Right this way sir." An older, rather scruffy looking man in all respects, grey hair, wrinkled features, said as soon as the door opened, " We've conducted virtually every scan we could think of. Our medical facilities aren't sophisticated enough to determine exactly what's happened, it's like nothing we ever encountered. The technology we've acquired was all designed for different physiologies, and have all been modified without full kno...."
"I know the full history of the medical technology Dr Griffiths." Owen replied, laughing slightly.
"Yes, of course you do. Well it appears as if the five men have had non-human memory engrams implanted somehow. It's far more advanced than any form of memory modification we have."
"We have the ability to modify memory engrams though?"
"Yes, to a limited degree. This is different though. A massive amount of information has been stored in their neural nets, utilising the existing memory engrams. . We can't extract them either, we don't know how."
"Are they what we would expect to find from any known species?"
"No, that's the weird thing. Although we can't tell what is contained in them, they appear to be more like computer data than any other memory engrams we've seen."
"Computer data? How much?"
"Well, we have no idea of how computer data could be stored into a biological neural net like this, but it's not impossible to be talking terabytes. As you're away, memories are stored via a complex chemical process. Data is being stored in their brains in a method similar to what you would expect using a quantum computer, using energy electron states. This has resulted in highly compressed data, a single standard memory engram molecule can store massive amounts of data."
"We need to get hold of this data somehow."
"Even if we could analyse the quantum states of each molecule, we wouldn't know what to do with the data yet. Kulmari computer technology works on a quantum method as you know, with 32 states, in comparison to our 2 states on standard computers, and 24 on quantum level. We understand the physics, we just don't have the technology to build something working on 32 states. It took us 5 years to get the binary computer systems to interface with the quantum computer flawlessly, there were too many computational errors involved."
"I know."
"Well, we'd be faced with a similar problem if we could access the electron energy states, which we couldn't, it would destroy they quite easily. Memory engrams aren't like standard materials we use for our quantum computers. Basically the technology is years ahead of anything we have."
"Great. Erase their memories and ship them back to New York. I'll be keeping an eye on them. Until then, attempt to find a way to access the information."
"There's a slight problem..." Dr Griffiths said slowly and cautiously. Owen just nodded in response. "We can't remove the memory engrams properly due to the modification of them. The data would be lost. We can suppress them, but can't actually remove them."
"Suppression will have to do then. Let's just hope it works on them."
"Our latest techniques tend to be quite effective. Hypnotherapy and other such stuff can recover them in some cases. That's why we prefer to physically remove the engrams normally. It's not a difficult process. The device we used from species 002 works excellently on all individuals. We just can't afford to risk loosing any data. There could be gigabytes on one single molecule."
"Do your best. I'll update the director."
"Ok sir." By this time the two had reached the medical lab where the five guys were lying on medical tables, their heads surrounded by hollow cylindrical devices. Dr. Griffiths entered the lab and started talking to some of the other doctors. He just stood staring through the glass partition as the white coated men went about their business. Owen didn't consider himself to be a particularly good scientist, he was no more intelligent than anyone else as far as he was concerned. The difference was he was brought and raised in into a society surrounded by advanced technology. He picked a lot of things up naturally. His inquisitive nature had lead him to pursue his interests in science, more specifically than anything physics. All the technology he used tended to be that recovered from crashed ships, adapted, replicated, adjusted to suit our needs. Several of the discovers, such as the quantum translocation device, which was used to move people around the world, were far beyond current physics, and in many ways shouldn't work. The ISA had just enough understanding to be able to modify the devices enough to suit human needs and work from inside elevators, as well as recognition of human commands, in most earth languages. He didn't consider himself to be like his father at all though. His father, the head of a multinational organisation with massive resources and funding.
He had never once seen him loose his composure. His face was always glanced with the same neutral expression, he never smiled, he never frowned, he never looked worried, he never looked excited. He was a secret service man through and through. His parents had worked for the British army secret service division, before it became MI5/6, and he was born into it. When the ISA was formed out of the secret service organisations of the USA, USSR, England, China and France, he joined as a young upshot, not expecting such a motley crew to survive for very long. The time in the service seemed, as far as Owen was concerned, to have robbed him of all emotion. He knew his father had got him into the agency, and he was glad of it, he knew his father had looked out on him, but he had never been a Dad, someone there for him. He was always locked away in an office, doing whatever he did. Now, at the age of 51, not looking much older than he did at 30, he was the joint head of earth in all practical purposes. He had negotiated the peace treaty with species 002, which was responsible for a large amount of technology, but Owen had no idea what that was, or where it was put to use. His knowledge may extend to know earth is slightly more advanced than let on, and it has contact with alien races, but he had little more idea on what the whole story was. Sure, the transporters, the medical technology, the nice holographic screens, the odd bit of fancy weaponry, but he never went in the command centre, he wasn't authorised for that, he didn't know about the extent of earth's current situation. He thought only his Father and his co-director knew everything. His Dad had always worked on making sure as fewer people as possible knew about the existence of the ISA, and they only needed to know as much information as absolutely necessary for them to do whatever task they had to do, and nothing more. Owen was in that exact position. Information such as what he just learnt however, kept assuring him their was something bigger going on, especially regarding species 038. Now however, he was sitting in a car parked a few meters down the road from the FBI New York Office, waiting for the five young men to exit the building. He wasn't waiting too long, as they existed the building and climbed into the waiting MPV [if u don't know what that is, ask!]. He started the car and pulled it out into the road, and began to follow them from a distance. He still wasn't certain why he was here though. He'd already noticed the other car pull out from the corner as they drove by, holding back just behind him. Undoubtedly their were spy satellites watching the area, at least one follow other than himself, who were probably better at it than him, so why was he here? He knew a little about what was going on, but that was about it, no real reason for him to be on active duty. There were far better people at the agency than him at following people. His main role was as someone who dealt with people outside the agency yes, but not following them and insuring their safety. But here he was, following them at a comfortable distance. He'd already had cameras put in the rooms to make sure nothing happened, and had a room directly above JC's. He waited as they went into the underground parking lot, before following them down and parking the car. He exited before heading upto his own room. He glanced at the five display screens that had been set up on the desk, showing each room. He sat into the seat and just relaxed. He seriously doubted anything would happen, not without a lot of warning anyway, and if they did regain their memories, how would he know from watching a video screen? He just relaxed in the seat, not wanting to intrude too much on their privacy.
"Sir, they recovery team has managed to get some of the data from the ships memory"
"Very good Mr. Paton, transfer it to my office." He responded, straighten his suit jacket as he activated the holoscreen. He glanced through the slightly fragmented material, but gathered the jist of it. This was far beyond his wildest dreams of what could have happened in this war to turn it around. A small smile grew on his face as he turned of the screen and returned back to his game of chess.
"What did management say when you called them then JC?" Joey said, as they all gathered in his room.
"Weird really, they said they'd already been contacted and we were to go along with them. I didn't think about it at the time, but how could the FBI have got in touch with them. It seemed like a last minute decision to me."
"Yeah. And what actually happened? We just went there, sat down in a waiting room for a while, and then someone just came out and apologised to us, and that was it. Did anyone actually mention why we were carted off?" Lance spoke up
"Not that I can remember. It all is rather weird isn't it. I didn't think about it at the time. It all is weird really." Justin said from his position in the sofa
"I'm just going to give management another call." JC said, walking over to the hotel phone. JC talked for a couple of minutes, most of the time spent on hold before he finally got through. The others listened as he spoke down the phone. "Ah, hi Mark."
"Hey JC, what can I do for you?"
"You know about this thing with the FBI earlier?"
"Yeah, it was quite weird. We got called and told about the situation and for you to co-operate with the agents on the phone."
"What time was this about?"
"I'd just put the phone down on them when I was told you were on the line."
"That's weird. They came on to search the aircraft, they weren't after us at first with the looks. I just can't figure out how quickly they managed to get to you."
"What exactly did they want you for?"
"That's the thing, we were just carted off, sat around for a while and then given a ride to the hotel with lots of apologies."
"How long were you there for then?"
"I'm not certain, guys?"
"An hour or so probably?" Lance said, the others nodding in agreement.
"Then what else have you been doing since then?"
"I'm not following, we went straight there for a couple of hours, and came straight here."
"You were taken off the plane over 7 hours ago."
"That's not possible!" JC said, glancing down at his watch, sure enough it had been seven hours. Why hadn't he looked at his watch earlier? "Thanks Mark, I've gotta go. I'm just going to try and sort this out." He put the phone down and turned back to the rest of the group.
"Doctor, the memories you implanted, how long did you have them absent?"
"Should have been about seven hours, the time they would have been absent, why?"
"They remember sitting around for a couple of hours."
"They should have had far more detailed memories than that. It looks as if the engram replacement process malfunctioned somehow. I've just checked, the computer system shows the engrams of there time here were altered to have them at the FBI headquarters for 7 hours. All I can suggest is that my fears earlier were substantiated.. It's not as bad as them remembering, but if they start looking for what happened, they have far more of a chance of remembering it."
"Thank you Doctor. I guess it's time for some damage control here. Terminate communication. Get me the director." Owen said, waiting a few minutes before the image of his father appeared on the screen. "Did you get the conversation with the doctor sir?"
"Yes, it was intercepted to here. Proceed as you see fit with appropriate measures. Do your best to ensure they don't recall anything harmful. If it fails, attempt to contain the situation as best as possible."
"Very good sir. Terminate com." He paused a second making a plan of action. He listened in on their conversation for a few seconds before making his decision.
"This is really weird. We couldn't have been there 7 hours, it's not possible." JC said after telling them what Mark had said.
"We were awake the whole time weren't we?" Justin asked, apparently worried about the loss of time
"Yeah, no one feel asleep. That guy came in once or twice to apologise for that wait, and in the end we were told to go. It wasn't anywhere near 7 hours though. Maybe an hour driving, and two hours waiting, but we're still missing 4 hours here."
"I'm calling up the FBI, I'm going to get this sorted out." Lance said this time.
"Don't you think you should leave that to management?"
"No, I'm going to figure out what's happening here."
"Get me Assistant Director Ronson." Owen spoke to his com unit, waiting a few seconds for it to be connected. "Ronson here, how may I help you Sir?" "Hello Sir. I require a call which will be received at your office from a Lance Bass of *NSync to be diverted to me."
"Ok, I'll arrange for it to get to you after a few secretaries and waiting Owen."
"Thank you Mr Ronson, have a good day."
"And to you sir."
"Oh hello. My name's Lance Bance. I'm with the music group 'NSync. We were brought in earlier straight of a flight, and I'd like to speak to someone regarding the matter."
"Please hold sir, I'll just confirm who to direct you to." The lady said, before some of that annoying hold music came on.
"Hello Sir. This is the office of Assistant Director Ronson, how may I help you?"
"I just told your receptionist, I'm calling about why we were brought in earlier."
"Thank you sir. Mr Ronson knows you're on hold." With that, the music started again for about a minute.
"Mr Ronson has redirected you to his superior in charge of the matter. Please hold why we redirect your call." And yet, you guessed it, more music.
"Hello Mr Bass. I'm Mr Coombs, what exactly would you like to discus?"
"Well first off, why were we brought in for a start?"
"We received some information regarding a possible threat against your safety, and wanted to ensure you had no ill comings."
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"A threat was received while the plane was inflight which suggested that a passenger on board the plane may have had hostile intents towards you."
"Then why wasn't our management informed earlier?"
"They were sir. We called them shortly after the threat was processed."
"And who did you speak to?"
"I'm not certain sir, I didn't make the call personally. I think that would best be a matter taken up with your management company."
"I might just do that. I don't completely believe you, it didn't look like you were looking out for us when your agents first came on the plane."
"Obviously you were mistaken sir."
"Obviously." Lance said sarcastically. "Now, how long were we at your offices, and why were we there so long."
"You stayed with us for about 6 hours in the offices. You were kept back for so long for your own safety. We received several more possible threats regarding your injury. We thought it would be best to keep you until the person making the threats was detained."
"And was he?"
"Yes Mr Bass, he was found shortly before we released you. He is currently being questioned."
"It didn't seem like 6 hours at the time."
"Ones awareness of time in a bland room in the middle of a large building with no clocks on the wall can be quite distorted."
"I'm sure. And why were we driving to a small building first, not the FB..."
"What small building, you came straight to the FBI headquarters." DAMN!
"What'd ya mean Lance? What small building?" Justin asked
"I don't know, it just came out. I can't remember clearly." Lance said, confusing on his face as he tried to sort out his own memories.
"How about I come round to discuss the matter in person with you Mr.Bass, and try to sort out your worries."
"Ok then, we're at..."
"I know where you're staying. I'll be around in about half an hour, and I'll try to answer all your questions." He ended the call. "Bloody hell, can't anything ever go right!"
"Well?"
"He's coming round to have a word with us in person."
"No, what do you mean, going to that small building and stuff."
"I'm not certain how I just came out with that as I was talking. I don't know where it came from. I'm trying to think, but I can't remember anything about it."
"You must have been thinking about something else?" Justin perked up from his careful and meticulous studying of the carpet pile.
"Yeah, must have."
"No, he wasn't. I remember something about a small building, it's vague, like I dreamt it." JC said this time, looking in deep thought.
"We'll see when he gets here. This is too weird. This is what it's like when people have been abducted by aliens and stuff."
"Don't be stupid Justin, things like that don't happen."
"I know Josh, but this is what some of the stories are like."
"Stories, that's it Justin!" knock knock. "I'll get it." JC stepped out of the chair and went to the door. "Who is it?"
"Hello, I'm the person in charge of the investigation regarding the incident earlier, we spoke on the phone." JC pulled open the door, and the man stepped in side, far younger than expected.
"Hello sir, I'm Mr Coombs. You spoke to me on the phone earlier." Owen said, stretching out his hand for a handshake, withdrawing it after a few seconds and no response.
"You're early Mr.Coombs."
"I was in the area, so I came by. I was on my cell phone when you spoke to me."
"Aren't you kinda young for this?"
"Old enough, I'm in charge of this, that's all you need to know." He replied, the smile not dropping from his face. "You wanted to discuss the situation which transgressed earlier today?"
"Yes, we did. We wanted to ascertain exactly what happened, because we've been talking things through, and one or two discrepancies have come to our attention."
"I'm here to help."
"How long were we there? As we said earlier, we can only remember being there for about 2 or maybe 3 hours max."
"I see. I recall you saying that, so I've arranged to have the security camera tape of your time with us made available to you, it clearly shows you being there for a little under six hours. If you are interested in seeing it, I can arrange to have it delivered?"
"We'll see, thank you Mr.Coombs. How about we just talk for the time being. None of us buy a word of what you said earlier, and we want the truth!" JC said, with more authority, and maybe even a hint of anger in his voice.
"May I sit down?" Owen asked, JC just gave a brief nod.
"I was under the impression I'd already told you the truth sir."
"And I disagree. Now, you're going to tell us exactly what happened when you took us off the plane!"
"I already have Mr.Chasez, Although I'm happy to tell you anything I may have overlooked if you ask, but I think you know everything there is to know."
"Stop fuckin' well lying to me!"
"Why do you think I'm lying?"
"Because we left the airport and didn't go to the FBI headquarters. That man on the plane took us to a small unmarked building no where near any FBI facility!" At least that's what those vague memories seemed to suggest
"Are you threating me Mr.Chasez?"
"Take it as you will, but tell us what happened."
"I've already told you, I think you're just confusing matters, possibly due to your tiredness from the long flight and then sitting around for 7 hours."
JC jumped out his chair and pushed Owen back, his chair tipping over as he hit the floor. He pulled Owen to his feet by the scruff of his collar, reaching with his hand and grabbing the small gun from his side holster.
"JC, what are you doing!" Lance shouted rising to his feet.
"Stay out of this Lance, I'm going to find out what happened!"
"Are you? What do you intend to do with that gun Mr.Chasez, shoot me? I don't think you shooting a government agent will do much for you career, do you?" Owen glanced up to where the camera was placed, giving a brief shake of his head. He knew that the FBI agents would probably be watching and would storm in with a little provocation. He waited a few seconds, before reaching out to take the gun back from JC's shaking hands, but JC quickly regained his composure and took aim again, steadying his hands slightly. Owen just straightened his suit up and sat back down, keeping his composure.
"Now you tell me what you did to us, and why we can't remember it." JC demanded again, his anger making him go red in the face.
"Ok, how about you put the gun down, and we try and be even remotely civil about this?"
"JC, just put the gun down, you're scaring me." Justin said, edging towards him. He reached out and put his hand on the shoulder. He swung around towards Justin who jumped back. He quickly lowered the gun though, a few tears in his eyes. Justin reached and took the gun off him, holding it out towards Owen, who took it off him, nodding in acknowledgement.
"Sir, I can see your clearly upset, but I don't know what I can say here. I've told you everything I can tell you in regards to the matter. And next time you try to take someone's gun, first make sure it's loaded. And don't get too cocky you'll be able to do it if it ever were loaded. I don't make mistakes Mr.Chasez."
"Everyone makes mistakes. But what do I remember then!" JC snapped again, before casting his head back down.
"That's for you to decide. As I said, if you want to see me again, just call and I'll be here within an hour. I'm here to help you wherever possible. Don't worry too much about it. I suggest you all go to bed now and have a good sleep. You've all had a long day, and are all very tired. See how you feel after a rest. Get back to me tomorrow morning. Here's my card, just dial the number on the bottom and it will connect straight to me." Owen said, pulling out a business card from his wallet, with his name and a contact number on it. He sat up in his chair, straightening his jacket again, before making a small nod in acknowledgement, and walking out.
End of chapter two. Another short one. I will make them longer, but this was a very convenient place to stop here. Still not seeing any relationships yet, but have patience, I have no idea where this story is going in the long run, I just let my thoughts run as I write, and this is what is coming out. I know it's very far fetched, but I have a very vivid imagination when it comes to subjects such as this. And I know the physics regarding quantum computers are essentially incorrect by the major theories these days, but this is the easiest way to put it. I don't claim to understand it by any means, but hey, it's fiction! Bare with me anyway, and tell me what you think. Feel free to suggest any story lines you think would be a good idea, and I'll take them in due consideration. As always, contact me at trekster2@hotmail.com or trekkiead@yahoo.com. My apologies for the large number of typos in the last chapter as well, I've done my best in this chapter with the help of Tom to filter out as many as possible. I'm sure there's one or two left in, please forgive me:)