The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

of flowers everywhere, the brick-lined streets, and especially the ice cream shop a half-block away at the end of Flanders Street.

She used to walk past the police station many times but never really noticed it until now. It was hardly distinctive, its white adobe walls melding into the scenery with about ten yards of gently sloping grass separating the building from the street. The building’s nameplate, above the front entry, could easily have been missed by passersby.

Sammie calmed herself as she was led inside along with Michael and Jamie, but she was stunned by what she saw. She couldn’t tell the difference between this and the lobby of a dentist’s office: Generic landscapes on the walls, padded chairs and small lamps, coffee table complete with magazines, and a welcome counter.

A large black woman in a blue uniform and badge provided a reality check. The woman attached herself to the threesome, offering sympathy for their losses, providing Michael and Jamie with t-shirts, and promising to mother them as long as they were “guests.” After Jamie was taken to a back room for interrogation, the woman showed Sammie and Michael into a small waiting room adjacent to the lobby.

The room, about the size of a small office, had every creature comfort: A sofa with end tables and a lamp, an 18-inch television with DVD player, soda machine, a coffee maker next to a basket of muffins and donuts, and most amazing to Sammie: a desktop computer with a sign taped above saying, ‘Free Wi-Fi.’

“I’m gonna bet you’re hungry,” said the deputy, Martha Lynn. “Plenty here to start. What say I call down to Eddy’s and order up some eggs and bacon?”

Michael dug in while Sammie thanked her hostess. As he filled his mouth with blueberry muffin, he appeared to have forgotten what Agent Hedgecock told him before arrival. His parents, tracked down in Starkville, Mississippi, were on their way. Michael was told he must remain at the station until they arrived, a few hours at best.

Sammie asked the deputy for some time alone in the waiting room. The instant the door shut, Sammie turned to Michael.

“Keep watch,” she said.

“For what?”

“Anybody. There’s something I have to do.”

She retrieved the flash drive Jamie gave her before he dashed off into the woods. She had to know what information Ben thought was so important he would risk everything to get to his little brother. She found the USB port and plugged in the drive.

“What you up to?” Michael asked as he filled his mouth with a glazed donut. “Aren’t we supposed to figure how to rescue Jamie?”

“Yes, Coop. That’s what I’m trying to do. Just keep watch, OK?”

Sammie didn’t apologize for her callous behavior. She couldn’t afford to be interrupted. Her heart sank when she opened a folder to discover three subfolders, each containing more than fifty files, many of them hundreds even thousands of kilobytes long.

“Oh, no. Where do I start?” She glanced at the wall clock and took a deep breath. She was a fast reader, but this was overwhelming.

She took a second, closer look and saw a pattern emerging in the titles of the files. The words ‘death,’ ‘soul,’ ‘spirit,’ ‘tunnel,’ and ‘white light’ appeared frequently. She found text documents, image-heavy files, collections of downloaded Internet material, sound files, video files, a database, and spreadsheets. She opened files as quickly as the computer allowed, skimmed the opening page and determined she was looking at a random collection of research which focused on various theories about the human soul, religious context, beliefs related to reincarnation, and on and on.

The clock seemed to accelerate, and Sammie was getting nowhere. She deduced the nature of Ben’s obsession but couldn’t figure out why he so cared about these often arcane theories.

The second subfolder proved intriguing, as the word ‘Jewel’ appeared in a few titles. She skimmed, looking for hints of a broader picture but found only technical details about the program now re-sequencing Jamie’s DNA or stories that Ignatius told him about Caryllan Wave energy’s history. Other files in the folder included what appeared to be personal journals and reflections upon his life before and after crossing the fold.

“Sure you don’t want some breakfast?” Michael asked. “You been running around like a crazy person all morning, too, if you get my speed.”

Sammie asked for water, and he obliged with an eight-ounce bottle but also a donut. He stood over her shoulder as she worked, until she reminded him of his responsibility at the window. Three minutes later, she opened a file called ‘Jewel/soul.’ It read like a research paper, opening with a formal, introductory paragraph that lowered Sammie’s jaw as she reached the thesis sentence. This is it, she told herself.

Every sentence boggled her mind and brought tears to her eyes. It wasn’t written by the drunk Ben became in his final months. Rather, the words were carefully prepared, the product of vast research, with each powerful sentence building a meticulous case for a concept Sammie knew could change the future. The summary report was twenty-seven pages long. Sammie had no intention of reading it all; she didn’t have to. The first five pages, when skimmed, presented more than enough hard science and anecdotal evidence melded with theory and religious doctrine.

Her mind raced through the past hours, focusing on Jamie’s miraculous cure of Michael and how Jamie’s body repaired itself. She understood the basic science behind the Jewel’s program – her father spent many weeks outlining it – so Sammie knew the program by itself could not have saved Michael. Ben’s conclusions provided a missing link.

“We never considered this,” she said, loud enough for Michael.

She closed the file and removed the flash drive. She took a swig of water, braced herself, and turned to Michael.

“Everything makes sense now. We have to get Jamie out of here.”

“Sure. That was pretty