The campus of Constoriun Zone: South in Durham, North Carolina, has two security guards who man the front gate. This is part of increased security at the facility following the escape of a very important patient.
The two security guards at the gate are agents of the North Carolina Department of Public Safety State Bureau of Investigations who have been assigned to the protection of Dr. Roy Worthington for months now. The campus is large with nine buildings in neat rows in softly rolling hills with lush grasses and wooded areas edging the large plane of grass, and it is all enclosed by a high metal fence. There is visible security everywhere, and the two guards at the gate have replaced the intercom system that was used before to speak with new arrivals and to open the gate.
Manuel, one of the guards, hardly sees his son anymore; he never takes the trip to Charlotte where the teen lives with his mother. Manuel lives at the CZS, in a room close to the other guard at the front gate, Adam.
Adam doesn’t have children, but his ex-wife has been desperate to talk to him. They have a rocky past but were finding reconciliation before his disappearance three years ago. He’d left her a message and when she never heard from him again, she got worried. She tracked him down through his job and she didn’t recognize the man she talked to, though he assured her that he was fine. She stared at the thing wiggling at the base of his neck, but eventually assumed that it was part of the coat he wore because he never really came close enough for her to see; he stood about two feet from her car and asked her to stay inside.
“I am different now, I guess,” he said to her when they spoke a few months ago, after he and Manuel became full time employees at the CZS. “I see that trying to get back what we had was torture for you, and I can finally let you live in peace.”
It wasn’t like Adam at all to just let go, not after he had worked so hard to convince her that they belonged together. But he was ending it, and he seemed content in his new life.
The mother of Manuel’s son was honestly happy that he only sent the child support and stopped insisting on time with their son. She wanted him to have a good relationship with his father, but she thought Manuel reckless for letting the boy who was barely a teenager drive cars and hold guns. Manuel doesn’t seem to miss his son anymore, he hasn’t even looked at the picture in his wallet for months.
They are both just very happy to man the gate, to smile at the passengers in cars that approach, ask for identification and the purpose of their visit. And when they are not at the gate, they watch TV, or play cards, pingpong, or pool in a lounge area that is a break room for the employees of the CZS, they enjoy the employee gym and the large swimming pool, or just walk the grounds that have ample room for casual strolls or hiking, and they sleep on the third floor of the main building.
Dr. Roy Worthington is one of many doctors at the secret headquarters of the Consortium of Human History in a large room listening to a prepared speech from the organization’s President, Dr. Lynnette Jones. He is nervous in the front row, he knows that Dr. Jones will call on him to speak about his success with the resurrection and the other medical impossibilities he has cooked up at the CZS.
“Collectively, the Consortium has been on the cutting edge of every industry in America and if not for our hard work and dedication to the advancement of humanity, America would not be the power that it is today.”
As Dr. Jones speaks, the crowd applauds and she has to take breaks.
“You have all made it possible for the Consortium to be what it is today, the official representative of human knowledge and technology to the entirety of the universe. Dr. Wilma Stanton in Texas is leading the charge on life-like prosthetics that have amazing potential for amputees, but also for national defense, making our soldiers practically invincible. Dr. Richard Lewison in Rhode Island is so close to replicating the complex neural circuitry of a dog into a computer and he will create the first pet with artificial intelligence patterned after a actual canine psyche. This is only his first step, and we may soon be able to cheat death by uploading our consciousness into the cloud because of the work that he does today.”
She names other doctors and she waves for them to stand while the crowd cheers for them.
“We have a very special doctor here with us today and it is because of his work that Earth has made its way onto the universal stage. We are all aware of the advanced alien civilizations of the universe by now, we are the official representatives of Earth to their Interstellar Panel, and we already have members traveling the universe and sending back word of the amazing things that we will be lucky to experience and hopefully in the near future. This is only our first step, though. Humanity has set our planet Earth on a disastrous course and we will save it with our efforts with the IP. Dr. Roy Worthington has been the leader in biology, epidemiology, and immunology for much of his career and since he has been working with the Consortium, he has done work that no other doctor on this planet even dreamt was possible. Because of his work, we will conquer the universe and everyone, everywhere will know that the First People branch of humanity is the pinnacle of sapient sentience. He is the first scientist in the universe to resurrect a being from death, a feat he is prepared to replicate, and we are honored to have him here with us. Dr. Worthington, please join me on stage.”
Everyone in attendance stands enthusiastically and applauds and those close to him, pat Worthington on the back for his amazing accomplishments as he stands and makes his way nervously to the stage. Dr. Jones hugs him and then introduces him again.
He knew he would have to give a short speech, but he worries that he can’t possibly live up to the introduction that Dr. Jones had used to get everyone excited and on their feet. But he stands behind the microphone and clears his throat. His announcement should go over well and this whole frenzy will be over soon.
“I am honored to be held in such high regard in a room of truly gifted minds. Dr. Jones and her board have been extremely generous in advancing my ideas and our work at the Southeast Branch, or rather, the Consortium Zone: South, we recently had a rebranding.” Everyone laughs and it puts Worthington at ease. “But our work would not be possible without the support of Dr. Jones and the board and I am pleased to be able to stand before you all today to deliver the news to Dr. Jones that we have done it again.” He looks back at her and she is beaming with pride, like her son has just scored a point in a basketball game. “I have replicated the resurrection and we are studying the man right now.” The room erupts into applause again and Worthington has to wait a full minute to continue. “I am eager to present my work to you all. Thank you so much for having me and I will give the mic back to Dr. Jones.”
Worthington is cheered as he returns to his seat and Dr. Jones ends her speech. The room clears and the doctors head down to a celebration on the first floor of the large mansion, though many are eager to talk to Worthington. He hangs back with Dr. Jones.
“That went very well,” she says, sitting on the edge of the stage and smiling at him. “Keep it up and you’ll be on the board.”
“I would be so lucky,” he says and sits next to her. “I was eager to tell you about the new resurrection.”
“I’m eager to hear all about it, but I have some news for you. It seems we are going to need that army sooner rather than later. We are making crucial connections with other beings of the universe, and it seems that a demonstration of force is required to forge a bond that will prove very beneficial.”
Worthington looks at Dr. Jones with excitement in his eyes, like it is Christmas day.
“I can do it now?”
Dr. Jones smiles and nods. She pats him on the knee.
“In two months, I need to send mercenaries through the wormhole to provide support in a military effort that would take a very long time to detail right now. I want at least five hundred of your best monsters. Can you do that?”
“That can be easily done,” Worthington says. “This day just keeps getting better.”
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