“I TOLD YOU ALL I KNOW ABOUT PROJECT EARTH-FALL, AND NONE OF THE INFORMATION POINTS BACK TOWARDS US, NONE! I WOULDN’T BE SURPRISED IN THE SLIGHTEST TO FIND THAT WHEREVER YOU’VE SOURCED YOUR LIES FROM IS PLAYING YOU LIKE THE FOOL YOU ARE! SO FOR THE SAKE OF YOURSELF AND THOSE WHO HAVE ALIGNED WITH YOU, YOU HAD BETTER DECIDE WHICH SIDE OF THE FENCE YOU TRULY STAND ON!” Director Chamber’s bellows haphazardly.
Cain grips the arms of the chair that Director Chamber’s finds himself bound to with renewed vigour. “Tell me about item coded one-one-nine, Fools Gold?”
Chamber’s eyes widen and a renewed sea of sweat breaks out across his brow. “A-A superstition spread by the lower drones o-of the organisation to explain t-things none o-of their fantasy based theories could e-explain.”
Cain smiles sheepishly as he holds the screen of his asPhone XXII up for Chamber’s to see. “These are the results from eight hundred employees tested over a six-week period. Every single one of them have shown traces of this unusual anomaly, and the ones with higher levels of the substance all recently participated in company field trips that they can’t fully recall. Care to enlighten me on this?”
“I-I-I, t-that could b-be any number of a-a…”
“STOP FUCKING LYING!” Cain cries as he grips Chamber’s by the collar. “Clearly we’re dealing with a highly evolved type of amnestic drug that’s tailored to suit the needs of the organisation, and not the people working within the organisation itself.” he grunts through saliva drenched lips as he takes a long-winded breath through his nose and allows its deformed carcass out through his mouth. “My theory works on the pretence that there has to be some level of knowledge the higher we go up the tree, some level of awareness, and you are as high as they come, so if you’re not capable of answering the questions, maybe you’re not as high as we all assumed you are!”
“Y-You’ve g-gone mad, a-all of y-yo…” But Chamber’s pleas are disregarded as Cain thrust a hand over his mouth, and a knee into his elbow, forcing his arm outstretched.
“Let’s see how far down the rabbit hole this goes,” he grunts as he motions to Candice, who draws a needle from her field kit, and quickly takes a sample of Chamber’s blood. Cain releases his hold and takes a step back.
“H-HOW DARE YOU! WHEN THE ORGANISATION HEARS ABOUT THIS, THEY’LL HAVE ALL YOUR HEADS ON A PIKE! EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!” he spits as he looks at each of them. “HOW FAR DO YOU THINK YOU CAN ALL RUN, HOW LONG DO YOU THINK YOU’LL SURVIVE?”
Cain smiles, “Someone has to tell them first.”
Chamber’s brow furrows and his lips tremble. “I-I-Is that supposed t-to be a t-t-threat!”
“No ones threatening anyone, yet,” he says as he turns to Candice, who nods her head.
“He’s positive for one-one-nine, and I’d say by the levels that are in his system, that it’s been at least twenty-four hours since he was roofied.”
Cain turns to Chamber and closes his eyes gently and lets out another breath. “So, who is above you?”
“I-I-I,” he blinks several times before looking up at Candice. “Are you sure this one-one-nine is what you say it is?”
“Without a doubt. The chemical makeup of one-one-nine mirrors many of those seen in your run-of-the-mill over-the-counter anticholinergics, but taken to obscene levels, which not only bring your acetylcholine levels to a standstill, but also target pockets of time. I think the more you are given, the more time you forget.”
“And t-there would be no way to recall those memories after a-a subject has b-been given one-one-nine?” Chamber asks nervous.
“Unfortunately, not. Once the chemicals take effect there is no reversing it, because as far as your brain is concerned that pocket of time never existed.”
“C-Can your test g-give you an idea of how long a subject has been force-fed one-one-nine?”
“The test shows certain markers, but it can’t give me an absolute, I’d need to take a scan of the brain and see if there is any bruising caused when one-one-nine is given to a subject.”
Cain’s brow rises and he tilts his head to the side. “Why are you suddenly interested?”
Chamber looks over to Candice, then back to Cain, his face void of expression. “Sixteen years ago I lost a little over three months of my life. I don’t know why it happened, and I don’t know what took place. Over the years I’ve tracked some of my movements, but they’ve never made sense.”
“Were you working on any cases that seemed relevant at the time?”
“That’s the thing, back then I wasn’t working for the organisation, I was working the streets as a beat cop, hoping to make Detective. But a couple of weeks after whatever happened, happened, my predecessor Director Gillard personally approached me to join the organisation as a case officer. He never really told me why I was chosen, he just said I was the sort of guy they needed, he needed. I always wondered maybe those missing three months had something to do with it. I mean,” he says as he leans back in his seat with a crooked smile across his lips, “with all the shit we’ve seen over the years, something probably happened, I just never knew how I could’ve forgotten it all, that was up until now.”
“So, you’ll help us?” Cain asks.
Chamber laughs, “I wish I could son, but I’m only one step above you in the food chain.” he says as the room is engulfed in a thick green gas, quickly rendering Cain and Candice unconscious.
“Although I think I see in you what Gillard saw in me all those years ago, so maybe you can help me instead.”
