Chain Reaction Power Failure Book I Read online

  He couldn't bear to look at the other picture, the gold filigree frame resting on the far right corner. It still hurt too much to think of Heather. He started up his computer and began writing the first report, trying to fight off the memories, not an easy task when it came to her.

  Aaron Casey had met many women in his life, but never had he known anyone like Heather Robbins. She was, by far, the most exciting woman he had ever known. A tiny pixie at only five-feet, three inches tall, Heather was blond and stunningly beautiful, her delicate features and captivating smile something out of Elvin lore. She had the look and style of a super model, tempered with the relaxed demeanor of the ‘girl next door’. Her endless blue eyes complimented a warm and caring personality and as soon as he saw her, he fell for her like a cliff diver. Sitting in his office dodging the reports, his mind drifted back to their first, chance, encounter.

  Aaron had grudgingly attended the annual party Boston College hosted for its prominent graduates. He could still remember the pungent smell of cigars and hear the string quartet playing elevator music in the hotel’s dim ballroom.

  Standing in a circle of admiring men both young and old, Heather exuded grace and charm. He remembered taking in every inch of her petite body, the sculpted curves sheathed in black silk. She made small talk, polite yet a little uncomfortable amidst all the unwanted attention.

  While she enchanted the male attendees, he attempted to escape the clutches of the wife of the college president. A woman old enough to be his mother, Gloria Damian had an annoying habit of grabbing his ass whenever his back was turned. He still chuckled at the memory of her undisguised pursuit and his tactful evasions.

  The evening wore on and he couldn't help staring across the crowd at this tiny little woman who had every man in the room at her feet. After several minutes of intermittent eye contact, she broke free of her admirers and headed to the bar, he followed her.

  He tried to be suave as he introduced himself and offered her a glass of champagne. She gave him an appraising glance, but still she accepted and they began the ‘party small talk’ dance.

  After several minutes of superficial discussion covering everything including the weather and the Bruins Stanley Cup chances, Heather coughed, waving a delicate hand in front of her face.

  “The smoke in here is getting to me.” She’d said.

  Not wanting the conversation to end, Aaron prayed he hadn't misread her signals. “Would you like to go out on the terrace and get some air?”

  She shot him a sly look. “Sure, but won't you miss all the fun and excitement in here?”

  He threw his hand to his forehead in a gesture of mock distress and did his best, but still pathetic, Scarlet O' Hara impression. “However will I survive?”

  She laughed, flashing him a captivating smile that instantly set his insides on fire. With a flourish of his hand and a Rhett Butler bow, he led the way to the terrace. “After you, my dear.”

  As the two of them walked to the entrance, he dropped slightly behind and lifted a rose out of a table arrangement, presenting it to her at the door.

  “Thank you for saving me from a slow, boring death in there.” He said, offering her the flower, its delicate scent wafting up between them.

  She smiled and graciously accepted the gift, gently inhaling the fragrance. “Thank you, but President Damian's wife seemed to be keeping you occupied.”

  Aaron shook his head and rolled his eyes as his face reddened in embarrassment. “Yes, and it will be at least a week before I can sit down again.”

  They both laughed and went out into the cool night air. On the terrace, the conversation came easily and he was delighted to find her as intelligent and sensitive as she was beautiful. The crickets chirped loudly and the full moon crossed a star-lit sky while they talked about everything from politics to kids. By the time he thought to glance at his watch, he discovered more than two hours had gone by.

  The luminous dial on his wrist told him it was after midnight and although neither wanted the evening to end, he walked her to her car and kissed her good night. It was a long, deep kiss, the sweet taste of her on his lips long after she disappeared from view. He knew right then that if she would have him, his single days were over. Three months of whirlwind courtship later he proposed and she accepted, making it the happiest day of his life.

  The cruel reality of the present intruded and shattered Aaron's sweet reverie. His emotional self didn’t want to believe it actually happened, but his practical side refused to join in the delusion and the grim truth made his blood run cold.

  Beth had told Aaron she was going shopping and would meet him for a late lunch. At three o'clock he began to wonder what happened to her. Beth hated being late and he made several calls trying to find her, all unsuccessful. What he didn’t know, until later, was that she had picked up a passenger.

  He sat in his office chair unblinking, while the excruciating memories continued to roll forward like a movie he couldn’t stop. At 3:15 the phone rang and he instantly recognized the frantic voice of his mother on the other end of the line. Ann stammered and sputtered in distress as she tried to speak. ‘Youu have to come to the hossspital quick! Beth was in an accident!”

  Aaron heard those words and a burning rush of panic surged through his body. “Come where? Mom, where are you?”

  “Mass. General. Aaron, she’s hurt bad. You need to hurry.”

  The heavy rush-hour traffic seemed transparent as he raced across town and burst through the emergency room doors.

  The E.R. at Massachusetts General Hospital resembled its counterparts all over the country, big on function but short on comfort and humanity. The antiseptic smell assaulted his nose while he scanned the crowd of sick and wounded, finding his mother sitting in a corner chair. He ran to her side, his face white with worry. “How is she?”

  He sat next to his mother, holding her hand for what seemed like an eternity. His insides churning, he feared the worst. Time seemed to stand still as the two waited for some news. A doctor finally came through the glass doors separating the waiting room from examination cubicles.

  “I’m Doctor Allen. Are you Miss Casey’s family?”

  Aaron nodded. “How is she doctor?”

  “She suffered mostly minor injuries, but she's got a significant amount of windshield glass lodged in both eyes. We have an eye specialist with her now, but I don’t know if the surgeon will be able to save her sight. We’ll know more after she’s finished, but I'm afraid the prognosis isn’t good.”

  His heart sank, his only sister blind. It was almost too much for him to comprehend. Reeling in shock, he almost didn't hear the doctor mention a second victim. It took him several seconds to register the new information.

  “A second victim, what second victim?”

  The doctor flipped through the papers on his clipboard and read in the monotones only medical school can perfect. “Victim number two, her name is Heather Robbins…”

  Aaron stopped him in mid sentence. “Where is she?”

  The doctor looked up from his papers and studied him for a long moment. “Are you a relative?”

  “No.”

  “No. Then I’m sorry, you can't see her right now.”

  “I said, where is she?” He barked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

  “I’m sorry, if you’re not a relative you can't see her right now.” the doctor repeated.

  Aaron had enough of the doctor’s evasion. He stood to his full six-feet, four inches and leaned forward, towering over the doctor, his face tight, the expression menacing.

  “She's my Fianceé. So you better tell me where she is right now, or you'll need a doctor.”

  The man studied him carefully, gauging the danger, then cleared his throat before speaking. “When the ambulance brought her in, she had sustained massive trauma to her head and chest. We tried to stabilize her so we could get her into surgery. While we worked on her, she went into cardiac arrest and after several attempts we were unable to
revive her. I’m sorry, but we did everything we could.”

  Aaron’s heart stopped as the words rang in his ears like Hell’s bells. He staggered backwards until the chair stopped him and he collapsed into it. He tried to wrap his mind around the doctor's devastating words.

  He’s lying! It just can’t be true. Heather can’t be dead!

  He looked to his mother to deny it, but the crushed and dazed expression he saw told him it was true. The love of his life was gone.

  “Aaron!” Diane called, louder this time.

  The sights, sounds and smells of the emergency room dissolved and he slowly became aware of his surroundings again. He noticed the picture of Heather in his hand. He answered Diane as he placed the frame, face-down, on the desk and tried to compose himself. “What? Oh, sorry Diane, what's up?”

  She picked up the photograph, studying it briefly. “Aaron, you’ve got to stop blaming yourself. It was a tragic accident. It wasn’t your fault.” Diane paused, obvious concern filled her face. “She was a wonderful girl and we all loved her.”

  “Thanks Di, I think I just need to get my mind off it for awhile. What's on the schedule board for today?”

  Quickly consulting her PDA, she tapped the screen with a stylus, rattling off a day filled with meetings and appointments. Aaron hardly heard her. His mind was nowhere near his body.

  After the third question with no response, she realized he wasn't listening. “Look, you need to rest,” she said. “I'll handle the Bergsten conference call and send the revised plans to the city architect. Why don't you go home and try to take it easy for the rest of the day. You’re no good to me here.”

  Just about to refuse her, he suddenly felt waves of fatigue overrun his mind and body. It took a few more gentle pushes before he reluctantly agreed to her suggestion.

  “Okay. I'll go, but you call me if you need me for anything.”

  She kissed him on top of the head and looked into his eyes for several seconds. “I miss her too. Just remember this, she loved you and all she wanted was to be your wife.”

  Diane's gentle reminder made him feel better, if only for a moment. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  He collected a sleeping Rambo from her chair, an act she looked upon unfavorably. With Diane shooing him like a vexatious child, he left the office and the elevator delivered him back into the indifferent arms of the cold, lonely city.

  Chapter Five

  Jenny sat in the huge leather chair and tried to control her restless thoughts. As she looked around, she saw Jack's drink, momentarily forgotten on the bar. She found the presence of a cocktail glass odd, because Jack virtually never drank during working hours. Even stranger was the fact that he called her to his office so early in the first place.

  Jenny surmised that whatever he wanted to discuss must be important, if he couldn't wait till the weekly staff meeting already scheduled for later that afternoon.

  “Do you want some coffee or something?” he asked.

  “No, thanks I grabbed one on the way in.”

  Picking up his drink, he walked around to the other chair and sat down. He took a sip and made his opening gambit.

  “How's the battery project going?” he asked.

  The question didn’t totally blindside her and she studied him for several seconds, taking a moment to formulate an evasive, yet believable, response.

  “For the most part it's progressing well, just a few bugs to get out.”

  Why the sudden interest? She wondered, her nerves tingling with foreboding.

  Jack ran several research departments and she couldn't think of a logical reason he would be so interested in any one project. This, coupled with the appearance of the nameless soldier in the hallway, vaulted her suspicion into overdrive. Mentally confirming her chosen course of action, she decided to keep the true status of the project to herself.

  “I hope to see some real results by the middle of next year. A full break down will be in the monthly report.” She offered.

  After years of allowing her creative control of her projects, she couldn’t understand his sudden bit of micro-management.

  “Jack, you and I have known each other for a long time, and you didn't call me in here to get a status report that you could have read in a memo, did you?”

  He paused, then reached into his jacket and withdrew a long, thick cigar. He removed the band before igniting it with a gold lighter taken from his pocket.

  “All right, I'll get to the point. You've been doing a great job and I think you've earned a promotion,” he said, puffing a cloud of thick smoke between words. “You should be concentrating on recruiting new projects and talent and let the junior staff take on the existing work. The board members and I think you’re ready for more responsibility.”

  She thought for a long minute, rolling the offer over in her mind, closely examining the ulterior motives that seemed to spring up like weeds. “What would I be doing if I'm not in the lab?”

  Seeing a look of disappointment color his features, she backtracked. “Don’t get me wrong. I have no objection to the other guys taking over the current projects, they’re all capable. They can finish what's in progress. All accept the “Ever-cell” project. That's my baby, and no one touches it but me.”

  Jack briefly contemplated the cigar’s charred gray tip, rolling off the burned tobacco into a crystal ashtray until it glowed cherry red.

  “Don’t panic. The project will be in good hands. I’ll put a full team on it so we can get it finished…”

  Fear spiking in her thoughts, she stopped him in mid sentence, leaning forward and sitting on the edge of the chair. “Jack, we've talked about this before. You know it's too dangerous. Have you thought about what the wrong people could do with this kind of power?” she shook her head, her mouth set in stalwart determination. “The potential for abuse is too great. We have a responsibility to see that this technology is used properly. I want to see people benefit from my work, not be killed by it.”

  She became a touch defensive and her voice climbed an octave as she continued. “I won't have my work go the way of Einstein's, or Fermi's! I won’t!”

  He puffed on his cigar, engaging her eyes for a long moment before answering. “Do you remember the rough time you had getting ‘Ever-cell’ off the ground? Don't you want to see others get the same chance you did? I think your talents would be put to better use finding those kinds of people and projects…and making sure they come to this facility instead of our competition.”

  A sizable twinge of self-recrimination and guilt gripped her.

  I can’t remember how many times I prayed for an outfit like this to help me. All those brilliant scientists with new ideas stuck in the same place I was back then.

  “Well, you have a point. But I still…” she stumbled over the words.

  He interrupted her and went on. “I've been talking to the board and we think that you would be the perfect choice to be the new Vice-President of Project Development.” he paused again. “And if it makes you feel better, I will personally assume control of the ‘Ever-cell’ project and oversee its completion.”

  Disbelief poured over her in heavy waves. Hands shaking, she just sat there looking at him in stunned silence. The thought of that much power in the wrong hands scared the hell out of her.

  It wasn't that she didn't trust Jack, he was a super guy. More than once he had gone to bat for her projects with the board. He was also a brilliant scientist in his own right. However, he still indirectly worked for the military and she knew if the Pentagon got their hands on her battery technology all bets were off.

  Even Jack couldn't insure its security then. I have to buy some time…but how?

  “All right Jack, I'll think it over and I'll let you know.”

  She could feel him about to push for an answer when they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

  “I'm sorry Jenny, excuse me a minute.” He turned, calling toward the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’
s Murphy, sir.”

  He got up, went to the door and opened it. Sean Murphy entered the office with his ever present mail cart. “Sorry for the interruption sir, but your secretary isn’t at her desk…and some of this mail is marked urgent.”

  Sean pulled a large stack of mail from his cart and placed it on Jack's desk.

  As the two waited to resume their conversation, Sean caught her eye. Her stomach clenched in distaste.

  Heading toward the door, Murphy paused. “Excuse me again, Jenny. Would you like your mail now or do you want me to drop it off in your office?”

  “In my office please. Thank you.” She answered.

  For reasons she couldn’t quite figure out, the ferret-like man made her skin crawl.

  Murphy closed the door behind him as he left and pushed the cart down the hall.

  Jack returned to his chair, finishing the drink. “All right, where were we?”

  Jenny entered the lab, her meeting with Jack still churning over and over in her mind. She refused to believe that he was trying to get her to give up on the Ever-cell project. The project meant too much to her, and he knew it.

  He must have some kind of reason for wanting me to release it, but what could it be?

  She decided to put it out of her mind for a while and get back to work. The revelation she’d had earlier that morning begged to be tested.

  She pushed open the polished stainless steel doors and moved in among her instruments, her “friends” really.

  The lab was her home away from home. Surrounded by the pristine white walls and comforting familiarity, she felt safe and in control when she was working. Time to forget about Jack for a few hours and make some progress on the project, A dour smile made its way across her features. Unlike the rest of my dysfunctional life.