Keeping My Options Open

This is a bonus scene which takes place after the events of my novel Toll. Please note that this scene may contain spoilers for the book!

The laboratory was the size of a football field, and its walls were a featureless white. Every square metre of space was perfectly illuminated, and a small army of scientists worked ceaselessly, moving back and forth between workstations and racks of equipment.

Discreetly posted around the edges of the vast chamber were uniformed soldiers, their job being to protect the personnel and equipment in the room, though any kind of hostile intrusion was incredibly unlikely.

In the centre of the cavernous area there was a circular pool, lit from below, with water vapour visibly rising from it. An elaborate gantry was built directly above the water’s surface, and in the attached harness, there hung a machine.

Its black exterior glinted in the shifting light from the pool below. It was precisely two metres in height, a squat cylinder which flared towards the bottom, rounded at each end. Mounting brackets of the same material as its casing were affixed to a ring running around the upper section, and a single, thick umbilical cable ran directly from the top. Halfway down one side, a panel was open and hinged back against its housing.

There was a single raised walkway on one side of the laboratory, forming a balcony several metres above the heads of the many people working below. It had its own entrance door, and was not accessible from the primary floor area. Two figures stood upon it, one male and one female.

“Your people did well, Director,” the man said. He wore a grey-blue military uniform, and his left shoulder bore a circular blue patch embroidered with twelve gold stars. He was extensively decorated, and he stood ramrod straight despite having his hands clasped behind his back.

“My people always do, General,” Janne Wuyts replied, drawing a brief glance from the man. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but also something else. After a moment, he nodded.

“We could achieve great things with this technology,” he said. “Its potential is remarkable.”

“I’d advise moderating your enthusiasm. The last person to express that opinion is no longer with us.”

The man grunted, then unclasped his hands and laid them upon the metal railing. “What about his own scientific personnel? From the ship, and the installation in Poland.”

Wuyts gestured towards the hive of activity below them. “We gave them a compelling job offer. Their clearance is probationary, of course, and will remain so for some time — but they seemed delighted to have the chance to avoid imprisonment.”

The man nodded again, watching a woman in a white lab coat passing a handheld device over the lower section of the black machine’s casing.

“That thing could solve a lot of problems for us, and we both know it,” he said, looking around at Wuyts after a few seconds. He was unsettled to see a tight smile on her face that conveyed anything but humour.

“I’m sure that Herr Kammler thought the same thing when he oversaw its construction.”

The man sighed and then drummed his fingers on the railing, his gold wedding ring making a small metallic sound against the surface.

“And what about this man of yours? The physicist. I received word he’d requested a full DNA profile, using his own samples. He’s looking to shed more light on the event in Hamburg, and the others who had his… talent.”

“The others who have, not had,” Wuyts replied patiently. “It is merely dormant. And Dr. Aldridge’s genetic test results were intercepted; he’ll receive a substitute profile giving no cause for continued investigation. Not that he’ll be discouraged for long.”

The edges of her mouth curled upwards at her own remark, but the man beside her had his gaze focused on the people beneath them.

“There was a correlation, though, wasn’t there?” he asked quietly, even though there was no risk of the scientists and support staff on the floor below hearing them.

Wuyts didn’t respond to the question. After a few moments of silence, she instead gestured to the machine that hung before them. “What progress have you made with the liquid capsule our drone removed from its core?”

The man straightened again. “Spectroscopically, it’s identical to the first sample from Queen Maud Land. We’re limited in what we can do, in terms of further analysis. We can reinsert it into the device in the meantime, if that’s what you want.”

Wuyts shook her head. “That would be premature. We’ll keep it isolated for now.”

The man glanced around at her and gave the barest shrug of his shoulders, then he clasped his hands behind his back once more. A full minute of silence passed, each of them occupied with their own thoughts.

“I’ve started to get some awkward questions about Miwa,” the man said at last. “A handful of people do actually see your requisition reports, you know. Nothing we can’t control, but there are certain parties who were involved with Anfruns’s black-projects company at the consultancy level. They’ve been paying more attention since the strange weather we had in Germany.”

Wuyts made a dismissive gesture with her right hand, as if flicking away an annoying but inconsequential insect. “Let them wonder,” she replied. “I don’t owe an explanation to anyone outside of my own organisation.”

“Which one?” the man asked, and now Wuyts turned her head to fix her eyes upon him. After a moment, she lowered her gaze to the rows of medals pinned to the right side of his jacket.

“It’s an impressive uniform, Raymond,” she replied. “Perhaps a little gaudy. But I prefer its wearers to be considerably more risk-averse.”

The man shifted his position slightly, then he cleared his throat. “I apologise, Director,” he said. “Naturally, you always have my full confidence.”

Wuyts was still looking at the man’s many medals and service decorations. “Naturally,” she said. “And I’ll settle for just your full cooperation.”

There was another minute or so of silence, this time less comfortable. At length, Wuyts took a half-step away from the railing. “Well, I’m certain that you have a busy day ahead of you, General.”

The man understood perfectly that he was being dismissed, and he nodded respectfully. “I appreciate having the opportunity to see it for myself,” he said, tilting his head towards the machine.

“Of course,” Wuyts replied, then she gestured towards the door at the rear of the suspended walkway. The man opened it, allowing Wuyts to exit first, and together they walked along a blank-walled corridor that was completely deserted. After thirty metres, they reached an atrium whose only feature was the metal doorway of a single elevator. The floor number in the adjacent display read 16. The man pressed the call button.

“My predecessor continually reminded me of the importance of maintaining a healthy relationship with the military,” Wuyts said thoughtfully. “He also reminded me to question everything he said, both at the time and periodically afterwards.”

The man gave a small laugh. “Sounds like a wise man. I’d like to have met him. His name is legendary in my own group — or his professional identity, at least.” Then the smile on his face faded. “I hope you’ll continue to find his advice worth following.”

Wuyts nodded, and the man wasn’t entirely sure what the gesture meant, but he smiled anyway before glancing at the elevator doors again.

“The report I read was circumspect, but… that machine back there almost killed your Group One commanding officer, didn’t it?” he asked. Wuyts raised an eyebrow for a moment.

“But only almost,” she replied. “Captain Greenwood has yet to ever let me down. She was born to this line of work, in more ways than one.”

“Unlike the physicist.”

Wuyts made a non-committal sound. “That remains to be seen. His performance on this occasion seemed to be exemplary — and his value lies in more than his role under her command.”

The man nodded slowly, then he frowned. Wuyts had a sense that she already knew what he was going to ask, but she remained silent and allowed him to speak.

“If it had been Aldridge who dived into the Gulf,” he began, choosing his words very carefully now, “and if it had gone differently… if the energy field had intersected with him, I mean—”

“Would he have been immune to its effects, regardless of the widened organic tuning interval?” Wuyts suggested, and the man just nodded once more.

“Idle speculation is an activity best reserved for frivolous people,” she said. “So let’s just consider it fortunate that we didn’t have to find out.”

The man looked at her for a long moment before he opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the elevator cab. He extended his hand towards Wuyts and she shook it, then he stepped into the enclosed space.

As the doors were about to close, he abruptly reached out and pressed the hold button.

“Are you afraid of what it can do?” he asked, and his tone made it clear that the question was genuine and without judgement. Wuyts didn’t hesitate for even an instant before replying.

“Leaders aren’t well served by a fear of things,” she said. “A far more rational concern is people, and what they can do. Of that, I am very much afraid. CHRONOS is a small piece of a much larger picture, each part of which can never be allowed to fall into unsteady hands.”

“Then why not destroy it?” the man asked. His voice was contemplative now, and there was a hint of curiosity on his face, as if he were tackling a challenging crossword puzzle, or a riddle.

Wuyts remained silent, her expression inscrutable, and after several seconds the man released the hold button, returning his arm to his side. He nodded at her as the door mechanism reengaged, and he was surprised when she chose that moment to speak once more.

“I’m keeping my options open,” she said.

Then the doors slid closed, and the man began his long ascent back towards the surface.

I hope you enjoyed this bonus scene from Toll. Find out more about the book here!