Dark Energy: The Mortal Fracture

CHAPTER ELEVEN: MARTIN’S STORY

Antarctica – 2004

The doors to the Antarctica Research Center flew open as Martin and Sade were helped into the safety of the building. The doors closed heavily behind them disconnecting them from the events that had left both shaken and damaged. Martin seemed to be the most impacted, as he took the brunt of the force released by the explosion. He had cuts and scrapes on his face that oozed with blood, fluid, and gore.

The medics for the center came rushing with basic first aid supplies and their manuals for responding to emergency situations. This was a young group of professionals who were still learning what to do, and unfortunately, their first experience with a medical emergency at the center was more engaging and unique than they anticipated. The medics separated Martin and Sade, with one evaluating and focusing on each patient.

Sade was relatively well off. The force of the explosion had knocked her to the ground and under the cat where she was protected by its large treads from the raining shrapnel produced by the exploding magnet. Martin, on the other hand, had no protection from the sharp pieces of magnet that launched directly into his face and that also ricocheted off the vehicle, peppering other parts of his body.

Sade’s gaze never left Martin who seemed to grow more dazed and listless as the minutes passed. Soon he rocked on the examination table back and forth trying to balance against his growing disorientation. Sade noticed that a pool of blood was forming under him and that his medic seemed ignorant to this issue. She pushed away from the table and rushed to Martin’s side. Tracing the blood drops with her fingers, she chased them around to the back of his head where they were being exuded from a gash in his scalp. As she explored this wound, she realized that there was a crater in the back of his skull about the size of a quarter.

“Oh my God,” she said trying to control her fear.

“What is it?” the medic asked with his own anxiety mounting.

“Here,” she said frantically guiding his hand to the wound that was pulsating with raw flesh.

The medic grew pale as he drew a large pad of sterile cotton to the wound. Applying pressure he leaned into Sade’s confidence and muttered, “This is beyond what I can handle. He needs a real doctor.”

“Where are they?” she asked.

“In the field at the Russian camp about 30 miles south of here.”

Sade rushed from the room to the communication hub to call the doctors.

“It’s going to be okay,” the medic assured Martin.

Martin continued to sway and to move erratically. His dazed and pointless stare shifted to the terrified medic who was starting to mirror his swaying. Reaching out his hand, he squeezed the medic’s arm steadying him. Looking down at the comforting hand upon his arm, the medic finally relaxed and said, “I want you to lie down and rest. Try to stay very still until we get a doctor to take a look at you, okay?”

Martin responded by sliding down to a horizontal position on the table. The medic exited the room, turning off the light as he went. The room darkened, leaving Martin in the shadows.

While the medic had seen the full gore of the wound, he had missed something medically remarkable. Under the pad, a blue charge of static danced along the edges of the gash, exploring the wound. It snapped and hissed as the electricity excited the damaged tissue cells, repairing their damaged structures and promoting cellular growth. It was as if the cells were learning how to reconstruct the damaged tissues. Soon the bleeding stopped and the tissues grew together, expelling all foreign materials that had been introduced into Martin’s body as they pushed together. The cotton pad became engorged on the expelled gore that had been tainted with the exodus of necrotic tissue, fluid, blood, and debris.

As the team called for help, Martin rested in the darkroom and marveled at the visual hallucinations of mathematical formulas and scientific wonders that were projected before him. He knew that this was a turning point in his life and career and something that would change him forever. What he did not know, however, was that this change would not be for the better.

#

In the communication hub, the medic joined Sade. “Are they on their way?” he asked.

“Yes, but they can’t be here until the morning. There is a bad storm that is keeping them grounded and it isn’t supposed to lift until then. How is he?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how deep the wound goes. We really won’t know until the doctor takes a closer look at him.”

#

The next morning the stillness and tension of the morning were cut as the medical team rushed into the center and to Martin’s side. The light flashed on startling Martin awake. The doctor looked at the saturated cotton pad and nearly gagged from the stench that was permeating from it.

“Why haven’t you changed this?” he asked.

“I changed it a couple of hours ago,” the medic said afraid of being scolded in front of Martin and the rest of the team. He had done everything that he had been trained to do, and he knew that his training had been inadequate for the situation. He was terrified that his lack of ability would lead to Martin’s death.

The doctor pulled on a pair of latex gloves and gently removed the saturated pad, as he began to prod and explore the wound. I think we better get him a CAT scan to see how bad the damage is. I can’t tell from the condition of this wound.

A couple of members of the team rushed to the imaging room to clear away the sample trays that had been positioned on the CAT machine’s imaging sleigh. They quickly recalibrated the machine for a human and prepped the sleigh for Martin. The men brought him into the imaging room and strapped him down onto a board. His face was cradled in a doughnut-shaped pillow which held his head in position without obstructing his ability to breathe. He was then slid into the mouth of the machine where he was orbited by mechanics shooting radiation at his head. This exposure to radiation seemed to tickle the wound that threatened his stability. He had to fight hard to both stay conscious and to avoid laughing from his predicament. Within a half-hour the scan had been completed, Martin’s wounds were properly dressed and the results of his scan were illuminating on the light board.

“He has a serious head injury between the parietal and the occipital lobes of the brain,” the doctor explained as he evaluated the images of Martin’s brain. “It looks like a projectile entered the back of his skull and penetrated to a point right between the two lobes.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It depends on how the brain responds to the damage. The parietal lobe is responsible for the perception of stimuli and a person’s orientation while the occipital lobe controls visual processing. If the damage is severe or if there is excessive swelling in these areas it could lead to blindness, ambulation problems, and other…disabilities.”

Martin struggled to comprehend what just happened, he was still slightly disoriented and quiet, but he knew that his injuries would not create a “disability.” On the contrary, he knew, or rather sensed, that the intrusion had opened up his mind to a universe of new and limitless intellectual possibilities.

“So what do we do now?” Sade asked as Martin drifted off into his own thoughts and plans about what he was to do next in regards to exploring his new sensations.

“There really isn’t much that we can do. Surprisingly, his body seems to be recovering from the trauma rapidly. The bleeding has stopped and the wound is already showing signs that it is healing. Right now we just have to monitor him for infection and problems with swelling. Necalli, will you take Dr. Fierson to his room, and help him into bed?”

“Of course,” he responded as he slipped his hands under Martin’s arm, transferring him to a wheelchair, and pushed him out the room. As the two progressed down the hall, Necalli assured him, “It’s going to be all right, my friend. This is only the beginning.”

#

Sade’s Cabin – Anchorage, Alaska - 2011

Martin stood outside of Sade’s cabin. He stared at the rustic little building and remembered all of the happy moments that he shared with her in it. These memories had little value in the present, though, and he knew what he had to do. As he marched to the front door, he was followed by a team of men dressed in black coveralls and safety gear. Martin knew the secrets to entering the home, as he had designed most of them, and he bypassed each security barrier easily. As he entered the cabin he avoided focusing on anything that would make him change his mind, or that would make him remember what he had here and what he had to lose. Instead, he walked steadily and methodically to the basement entry door allowing the other men to do what they were assigned to do.

#

Martin knew the security system that protected the basement laboratory and he bypassed each barrier without flinching; however, when he came to the final barrier, the lethal one, he stopped. He was unsure if Sade had turned the system against him, or if she had left his clearance data where he had set it before things between them changed. He took a deep breath and allowed his biometric data to be scanned and analyzed by the system. It whirled and hummed and then came to a deafening point of silence.

His stomach sank as he knew he was in a win or lose scenario. If his biodata was still in the system and unaltered then he would be granted access to the lab, but if his biodata had been corrupted or removed, then he would be dead in a matter of seconds. Martin waited for his judgment anticipating, and even hoping, for the worst as this would finally put him out of his misery.

Above his head the sound of boots stomping around heavily vibrated the metal beams. Each step electrified his nerves as he waited for his judgment to be passed. Then the last security door lifted and Martin entered the lab unharmed but disappointed that his punishment was not yet over.

Exploring the laboratory, he opened computer files and browsed through their contents. After quickly reviewing the notes from these files, he downloaded them onto a jump drive. As the information copied over, his attention was grabbed by the last entry in Sade’s research journal.

“She did it,” he said as he completed the file transfer and executed one final command.

As he left the sanctity of the laboratory a self-destruct program initiated setting into motion the complete destruction of almost a decade of his life.

#

Martin appeared at the top of the stairs and wandered through the destructive commotion on the main floor. As the team ransacked the cabin he stopped to browse through the books that sat unobtrusively on the shelves of the bookcase. His eyes slid across the shelf, searching for an important keepsake. They stopped on the photo album from Antarctica. His watch alarm went off signaling that it was time to evacuate the building. Without turning his gaze from the photo album on the shelf he gave the order to fall back.

“Let’s go!” he ordered, as he tucked the photo album under his arm and left the cabin.

#

Outside he sat in his vehicle and paged through the memories in the book. He smiled as he flipped through the pages, seeing images of happier days. Most of the memories were good ones. That is until the “accident.” Martin’s hand fell onto the envelope that held the negatives for the album. His stomach sank as he slipped his fingers under the flap and squeezed the sides to reveal what was inside. He removed the negatives and shuffled through them until the sonogram film was revealed.

#

Antarctica – 2004

Necalli stood over the tiny infant that was still attached to the life support system that had been granted by nature. The tiny baby was still and silent, yet life stirred in its body. The baby was extremely premature, only about 19 or 20 weeks gestation age and weighed less than a pound. Necalli gently massaged the infants back trying to stimulate a breath and a pulse. The baby’s body struggled to regain its life, gasping and contracting as its underdeveloped lungs and heart fought for survival. Necalli closed his eyes and prayed, gripping the religious artifact that hung around his neck.

Martin was unaware that any attempts to resuscitate the infant were happening. His attention was consumed by the condition of the woman he loved. Sade lay unconscious and the rawness of her gut lay exposed to the air. Blood pulsated out, spurting geysers of crimson onto the floor with each erratic heartbeat.

“I can’t stop the bleeding,” Martin said anxiously to Kim.

Kim did not know what to do either. He was in shock from the horror of the moment and shook with every attempt he made to pack in absorbent pads into the open cavity.

“Necalli!” Martin screamed into the abyss of the research station outpost, but Necalli would not respond. “Necalli, I need your help! I don’t know what to do!”

The lights flickered and dimmed as Martin and Kim attempted to control her bleeding. Martin pushed back from the scene trying to regain his composure.

“It’s the only way,” Martin tried to convince himself as he sat back and allowed Sade to bleed out. Her heart weakened and her breath stopped.

“What are you doing?” Kim said.

“Just wait. It’s going to be okay.”

A stillness draped over the room as Sade’s heart stopped and her body resigned to death.

“Oh my god,” Kim said as panic took over his body. “What did we just do?”

“Shut the fuck up. Just focus on what we’re doing here. I need a second to think about what to do next.”

Martin ran his bloody hands through his hair. As he touched her pale and lifeless skin he too began to realize what he had just done. His heart shattered and desperation filled the void in his chest. Martin searched his brain for a solution for some trick that he could try in order to restore Sade’s life, but nothing came to mind. It was as if his brain had built a physical barrier to all of his medical training so he could not interfere with what was supposed to happen.

“Martin,” Kim said trying to get him to refocus on the task at hand. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

Necalli appeared in the room with a bag in his hand. “Get out,” he ordered with authority.

“I’m not leaving her,” Martin said.

Necalli placed his hand on Martin’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s time for me to do what I’ve come here to do.”

Kim and Martin backed out of the room, trying to stay visually connected with Sade’s body until they were physically dissected from the situation by a door shutting them out. They waited anxiously for over an hour for any signs that their plan had been successful. Then the door opened and Necalli emerged.

“You can clean up now,” Necalli said disappearing from the focus of their attention.

Martin and Kim entered the room and went to work cleaning up the mess that they had made.

#

Sade’s Cabin – Early Spring 2011

The cabin burst into flames and collapsed as Martin drove away. His cell phone rang moving the sequence of events forward one more step. “Fierson,” he answered.

“The project was unsuccessful.” The voice on the other end of the phone line said.

Martin at once knew it was Necalli. “Is anyone left?” he asked.

“No, it’s been a complete failure.”

“What happened?”

#

The Antarctic Team – Earlier That Day

Men ran up and down the cement brick hallways of the Antarctic Research Center rushing to the aid of the test subjects in the medical ward. The echoes of men screaming and crying out in agony reverberated off the walls like bullet reign. Inside the medical ward, three men were strapped down to exam tables. Black bile spewed from their mouths and onto the floor. The medical team frantically tried to control the erratic movements of the men as they spasmed out of control.

Necalli watched the chaos in the medical ward through a thick protective window. He studied the men’s behavior and their agony and he knew that the experiment had been a failure. A thin man in medical scrubs saw Necalli through the window and he rushed out to the hallway to his side.

He pulled down his mask and asked in desperation, “What do we do?”

Necalli assessed his options without revealing to the man that any emotion had been wasted on the process, and then he responded plainly, “Terminate the experiment.”

“How do we…?” the man realized before completing his question what Necalli had meant and was horrified at what was to be done.

“You know what to do,” Necalli said.

The man pushed his mask back over his face, put his hand on the door leading into the medical ward, and said, “Yeah, I know.”

Necalli watched as the men were injected with a thick green serum. Slowly their screams and thrashing melted into a silence that haunted the building, turning it from a living entity into a solemn tomb. Necalli turned away from the window and walked down the hall. As the padding of his shoes on the hard concrete floor dissipated into the fathoms of the research center, the dull light from his cell phone reflected off the pipes and glass windows that lined the hallway.

“What do you want me to do?” Necalli asked.

“There’s no choice. I’ll bring the second team down to you. Sanitize the station and I’ll let you know when we are ready to head down.”

Martin hung up and accelerated down the snowy road spinning his tires and fishtailing as he went.

#

Antarctica – 2004

As Necalli passed by the window to the recovery room he looked in to see Martin and Kim sitting quietly with Sade waiting for her to regain consciousness. Necalli slipped past the door and headed back to the area where he had earlier treated Sade for her fatal wounds. He stealthily slipped into the room and sealed himself inside. Once secured, he clicked on the light and looked for the secret he had hidden earlier that day. Getting down on his knees he reached under a shelving unit and pulled out a rolled up tarp.

Necalli then got out a large wooden crate and hollowed out the center of the enclosed packing material. Lifting the tarp and its contents, he fitted it into the crate. He looked down into its interior and arranged the contents to make room for one more addition. Opening the bag he was carrying he removed a small bundle wrapped in a canvas shroud and placed it in the cradling arms of the first object. The hallowedness of the moment weighed heavily upon him, but all these sacrifices were necessary for the greater good. Keeping this in mind, Necalli fitted a wooden lid on the crate and nailed the top securely in place. With this simple action, he sealed the fate of the world.

Turning off the light, he left the room and headed to the communication center. Inside he caught the attention of the attendant. “Hey, I need to get on the next flight back to the States.”

“Just you?” the attendant asked as she typed in information into the system.

“No, I’ll also have some freight to ship,” Necalli responded as he looked down the hallway at the recovery room.

#

To be continued...