Divisions, James Gerard [simple ebook reader .txt] 📗

the base of the cube, he watched intently to identify what could be the purpose for each.  Long, lost memories flooded the mind.  Paul gasped and stepped away from the cube.

 

“Oh my God,” he whispered.  “What are they doing?”

The Death of a Calculated Plan

 

Having fled the scene, Paul drove down the street with his attention shifting between the steady stream of traffic and how to go about reporting the breach of medical ethics.

 

Not only confused over who to report to and what exactly to report, he also was wracked with fear.   Both mind and body quivered in realizing to whomever the breach was reported they would certainly come at him with accusations of aiding and abetting the crime, possibly charge him as the main culprit in the horrific scheme.

 

Entering the campus grounds, Paul could now clearly see that Jeffrey had manipulated the facts with nothing but falsehoods.  He had presented the objective of the research with a flattering tongue, and played on his passion to eradicate the condition that had ravaged his father.  The sudden realization that Jeffrey was never interested purely in his wealth of expertise and knowledge for such eradication was enough to resurrect an internal anger that had been tempered throughout the years.

 

Paul fumed in realizing that the very idea of his inclusion in the research project was merely to break through the barrier that was blocking a success they could not reach by their own intelligence.  The very notion that they would dare use him in such a manner was maddening.  To employ him as a brain without a body and emotions burned in his very soul.        

 

Turning onto a quiet and quaint lane that led to the house, something ahead seized the attention—flashing lights.  At first, Paul assumed the source could only have come from the security cars of campus police which appeared to have parked right in front of his house, but a tapping of the brakes signaled something more sinister lay ahead.

 

Wanting more time to contemplate the situation, he stopped the car in the middle of the lane and peered over the scene.  Too much at a distance to confirm if the source of the flashing lights was indeed from the cruisers of the university’s police force, he feared that they were either from the city or state police or from a federal law enforcement agency seeking to arrest him for the vile acts.

 

If that was indeed the case, Paul came to the conclusion that despite a work life spanning seven decades and two careers carried out with utmost attention to professionalism and morality and where the heart had interceded in times to prevent both risqué and questionable practices, those truths would not stand as shields against the weapons hidden in a battle strategy concocted by Jeffrey.  And although thoughts searched out ways to escape the confrontation, the reality of an aged body and mind unable to swiftly evade an arrest put thoughts of a successful escape away.

 

A foot released the brakes and a slow and steady push on the gas pedal accelerated the car towards the house.  Even as the car neared, Paul could yet to determine what law enforcement agency the squad cars originated from, but the sight of a stretch limousine parked in the driveway left no doubt as to whom the perpetrator was.

 

Blocking the driveway, Paul parked and walked over to two officers talking to someone through an open window at the back of the limo.  Immediately, he assumed the perpetrator to be Jeffrey who had tipped off the police.

 

“Doctor Hatford,” the voice from the seat announced.

 

As the officers turned around, Paul looked into the back with squinted eyes and identified the person.

 

“Do you know this gentleman?” asked one of the officers.

 

Stunned by the calmness heard in the tone, Paul intentionally coughed and cleared his throat allowing time for the emotions brewing inside to settle.  He walked up to the window and looked at the man sitting in the back seat.  “Yes,” he softly responded.  “This…this is an acquaintance of mine.  His name is Augustine Florentine.”

 

“Sorry for the inconvenience Mister Florentine,” responded one of the officers.  “Hope we didn’t scare you Doctor Hatford.”

 

“Oh no,” laughed Paul.  “If you had I certainly would have fallen over from a heart attack.”

 

“Have a good day gentlemen.”

 

As the officers walked away, Paul noticed the sneer on Augustine’s face.  Just before they were out of range, he decided to continue the charade and said loudly, “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee Mister Florentine?”

 

“That would be kind of you,” Augustine responded with a scowl.

 

As the two walked to the door, Paul was a bit confused at the presence of Augustine.  Certainly, he believed, Augustine and Jeffrey were co-collaborators in the plot, but it had been Jeffrey who brought him into the project and it should have been Jeffrey sitting in the back of the limousine.  For that matter, he thought, why would Jeffrey include me in the first place if his intentions all along were to make sure I uncovered the secret?  It does not make sense.

 

“Did Jeffrey allow you access to the second floor?” asked Augustine as soon as they passed through the threshold of the house.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The second floor Doctor.  Did Jeffrey allow you access to the second floor?”

 

Thinking to act coy, Paul purposely contorted his face in a look of confusion and said, “Of course.  That is where I met you.  Don’t you remember?”

 

“No Doctor,” Augustine shouted.  “The second floor of the warehouse.”

 

His ire raised, Paul, with a hint of sarcasm, smiled and stated, “Oh…I see; that second floor.  Why yes I have.  In fact, I am just returning from there.”

 

“Did Jeffrey allow you access?”

 

“Yes he did.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I do not know.  You will have to ask him that yourself.”   

 

Augustine stepped up to Paul and stood inches away.  “Do not play around with me Doctor Hatford,” he said with scowling eyes backing the angry tone in the voice, “I can be a very vindictive man when I choose to be.”

 

“Yes, I do believe you can be after seeing the horrific intentions of your so-called humanitarian medical research project, but that does not change the fact that only Jeffrey knows his motivation for doing so.”

 

Augustine’s finger wagged before Paul’s face, “Are you and Jeffrey conspiring against me?”

 

“Conspiring against you?” Paul scoffed.  “Are you two not partners?  Are you not both seeking to benefit from your research project?”

 

Augustine chuckled.  “Do you know what we are doing?”

 

“I believe I do.”

 

“Well,” Augustine responded then stated with an apparent hint of frustration, “I just wish Jeffrey had informed me of his decision beforehand.  Now I’m faced with a hard decision.”

 

“And what is that?”

 

“Your participation in all this was supposed to be restricted to the research, but now that Jeffrey has allowed you to see it all.  I am at odds at what to do next.”

 

“I can appreciate your position,” said Paul.  “But my only concern as we speak would be the ethical and moral ramifications concerning what you are about to set forth.”

 

“Please Doctor, save me the lecture.  In spite of any objections you may have, we are preparing, even as I speak, to do something that will change the course of human history.”

 

“I understand how you could perceive it that way, but exactly whose human history are you changing?”

 

“Look,” interrupted Augustine.  He turned his back on Paul without uttering another word, and as if in deep thought contemplated the next move.

 

“Augustine why do you simply contact Jeffrey and ask him for clarification?”

 

“Jeffrey is indisposed at the moment.”

 

“Even at a crucial time such as this?” 

 

 “Enough,” shouted Augustine.  He threw his eyes to the ceiling and breathed in deeply.  “Since Jeffrey,” he calmly said, “has allowed you to see what is about to be done, I have no choice but to invite you to…let’s just say invite you to witness the next stage in human evolution.”

 

“Augustine, with all due respect, I have no interest in taking any further part in what is about to ….”

 

“You don’t comprehend….”

 

“Please,” yelled Paul, “let me finish.  I do understand, but know this: In a way that you may have never considered, in the course of my sixty years of practice and research I have come to think of the human brain as a remarkable design.  And I’ve come to discover that while it is just basically a clump of flesh, muscle, fat, nerves, it does an extraordinary job of managing all the body’s systems.  Yet, as a clump of flesh, once dead, once damaged, there seems to be no way of bringing it back to the fully functioning marvel it is.  So be warned.  It is my belief that you cannot duplicate the original design.”

 

“Bravo, bravo Doctor Hatford,” laughed Augustine, “a fine eulogy for your funeral.”

 

“Again,” stated Jeffrey, “you will fail.”

 

“But that is the beauty of what we are doing Doctor,” laughed Augustine; “for in all the ways you have attempted to mend the design, you cannot see you have utterly failed in attaining your goal and, by your own admission, acknowledged it had always been an impossibility to do so.  But we Doctor Hatford, on the other hand, have succeeded where you have failed.  We have found a way to bring one’s life back, to simply bypass everything you have failed to do in your lifetime quest to end the sufferings associated with all the disabling affects it wreaks on itself and the body it is attached to.  You see Doctor, where your conventional means have failed we have solved by the unconventional.”

 

“Time will tell Augustine if we are both failures will it not?” Paul responded.

 

“Then Doctor Hatford, I invite you to come and see for yourself which one of us will be proven the failure.”

 

Paul looked on Augustine and saw a smugness that could only have been fed by a self-perception of sophisticated intelligence that could overcome any and all challenges faced in the world.  And although he did not care at all to witness the transformation, he nonetheless decided to attend merely for the satisfaction of witnessing the failure of what they were about to do.

 

Without a word, he followed Augustine to the limousine.  As the chauffeur drove to the research facility, Paul sat quiet contemplating Jeffrey’s role.  Obviously, he concluded, that Augustine was a man ill-equipped with the social graces to fool the likes of anyone, but Jeffrey, obviously well-schooled in the art of deception, had a power of persuasion that could fool even the most good intentioned of man.  He could now clearly see that is why Augustine served in the shadows of the project and Jeffrey as the front man in disguising the true objective from all those that may bring it into question.  

 

After driving down a ramp of an underground parking lot accessed from the backside of the building, Paul quietly followed Augustine to an elevator.  Within seconds, they reached the second floor, but not the second floor of the cleverly disguised abandoned warehouse, but to Paul’s surprise the second floor of the research facility in which he had become familiar with.

 

Augustine immediately turned left and opened a door to a small office.  With a gesture of the hand he said, “Wait here Doctor Hatford.”

 

Paul obliged the request without questioning the reasoning and stepped into the office.  As the door closed he