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Panic ensued as the plane rose into the air, the pressure keeping Alec pinned to his seat. There was no way to get off the plane now. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he re-read the text, making sure he had read it correctly.
Get off the plane!
Indecision flew through him, unable to decide if he should text back or tell Gretchen what he just read. Both objectives were equally important, but he could not move forward with either. Fear enveloped him. He felt his breathing speed up. His shirt stuck to his skin. Droplets of sweat slid down his cheek.
The ding of the sound system jolted him. The plane leveled out, removing pressure from his chest.
“Our snack and beverage service will pass through the cabin momentarily.” The flight attendant announced. “There is slight turbulence. Please remain seated with your seat belts fastened. Thank you!”
Alec lost himself in thought, going over all the calculations from the past week. He had run the tests, on a small-scale of course, and everything ran smoothly. But he had a deep feeling of dread, of uncertainty. What if something was off? He questioned himself. Even one decimal point could make this project backfire. One person could sabotage the entire nation, just like Gretchen’s experiments.
The realization dawned on him. Someone had tampered with Gretchen’s project. And if there had been a traitor in the facility, it only made sense they were still inside, ready to do more damage. The fight to keep the project a secret was an ongoing concern, but if this was true, they had failed.
Alec was not in the security department, but his friend, the person who just texted him, was. She had been worried about the facility since the fire. She felt there were too many loose ends in the organization. Multiple entities worked on the project in many locations. They included Las Vegas, Seattle, D.C., and the facility itself, not to mention the overseas venues.
“Too many factors,” Alec whispered to himself. There was no knowing where the traitor came from.
“Are you alright?” Gretchen put her hand on Alec’s arm. Her smirk was of reassurance, but she could not know what was truly going on in his mind. He had to tell her.
Finally, Alec took a deep breath and unlocked his phone screen once more. He typed.
Is it the machine?
We’re in the air. I can’t get off.
“Gretch,” Alec nudged her and angled his phone toward her. She glanced down and paled.
“Get off the plane?” she whispered. “Who’s that from?”
The phone buzzed in his hand. Another response.
Oscillation. They’ve taken over the machine.
We don’t have control anymore.
Gretchen’s eyes widened as she looked from the screen and up to Alec.
We’ve lost control. How could this happen?
The worry in his gut was now explained. He felt there was a security breach when the fire broke out in Gretchen’s lab, but there was no sign of forced entry. The community leaders had done an investigation, and they deemed the incident isolated. But now they had confirmation, though it was too late. The facility was no longer an asset; it was a threat.
“Alec, who sent that message to you?”
He couldn’t answer, he couldn’t comprehend the question, nor could he speak.
“Sir, would you like some water?” The flight attendant tapped his shoulder.
Alec shook his head. “No, I’ll take liquor.”
The attendant returned in record time and handed
Alec the four small bottles he requested. All the while, Gretchen eyed him suspiciously. He assumed she would refuse if he offered, but he pushed two of the bottles toward her, regardless. She hesitated and after he urged her, she complied, wrapping her fingers around the tiny bottlenecks. He twisted the top off one of his bottles.
“Since we might die, be tipsy for it.” The whisper was not audible to their neighboring passengers. There was no reason to cause an alarm. The fear in Gretchen’s eyes was enough for Alec. He suddenly felt a wave of relief. He wasn’t alone.
“You’re jumping to conclusions.” Gretchen glanced around the cabin, clutching the small bottles of whiskey. “Whoever took over the machine, they won’t attack. Plus, we don’t even know where they’d attack, if that’s even the reason for taking over. Who was that text from?”
“A friend. She’s in security. She takes care of routine business. Not really routine anymore.” Alec tilted his head back and downed the first miniature bottle of liquor. “I don’t want to be sober if it hits. Especially if we’re in the air. If someone took over the machine, we’re in deep water. Well, I suppose I should say we’re in a free-fall,” Alec smirked at his joke.
Gretchen’s face told him it wasn’t funny.
“Let’s assume the worst,” Alec sighed. “They have the power to strike anywhere in the country if they know how to pinpoint the impact. And even with my machine being able to protect the entire country, it’s not an easy feat. If they had planned on testing my force-field, there’s no chance they’ll get the numbers right. They’d assume country-wide protection, and they’d get nation-wide destruction.”
Gretchen flicked her eyes from Alec to the whiskey in her hand. She placed one in her lap and twisted off the cap of the other. She stared at the bottle. Alec could see her calculating her decision. He remembered the story of the last time she drank alcohol, nearly ten years before. The bender she went on had caused an accident, a death, and a divorce. Her sobriety was all she had left, and he knew that. But he had a feeling there was not much time left for either of them.
Alec twisted off the cap of his second bottle and raised it to the air in front of Gretchen. “To science,” he said. “And the unknown world we may never see.”
Gretchen winced, but raised her bottle to his and tapped their rims together. “To science,” she repeated. Throwing her head back, Alec could see the small scar on her neck from the accident a decade before.
“To science,” he whispered a second time. He poured the drink into his throat.