She knelt down close to it, the extremely sophisticated kill switch transceiver camouflaged on her cuff flaring to life automatically; as TechNick had told her it would when this moment came.
"You will simply have to stay close for several moments while this hacks the device and initiates shut down," Nick had explained, "The waves of Shannon Radiation that will pass through your body should be basically harmless."
"Basically harmless, great," responded Vanessa in a flat tone, "Wait, Shannon Radiation?
What's that again?"
"What were you told in your briefing about this?" asked the boyish faced scientist everyone called TechNick—a precisely mannered, gentle soul that Vanessa was very fond of for his quiet ways and the host of ingenious tools and weapons he had created that had saved her life several times.
"I've been given an overview of the logistics," answered the secret agent, "Chadius Reeper, uber crime lord reportedly in stage five of Alzheimer's, out to destroy the world to avenge the deaths of his wife and daughters. We know where he's operating from, approximately, but not where his planet killer machine is—or exactly what it is; but the threat has been determined to be absolutely real. Several agents have been assigned."
"Not altogether accurate," replied TechNick, "While we do not know everything about how this device operates or what it is capable of, we have a relatively clear idea of what it is. We have in custody several of the scientists that were, used up shall we say, in the development of this machine. Perhaps you were not cleared for this information. I should double-check."
"Ahh, come on Nicki. Tell me, tell me, tell me!" teased Vanessa. She had a playful way with the soft-spoken scholar that usually got results. But she genuinely respected him, and he had an undeniable affection for her.
He thought for several moments, coming to a silent, serious decision.
"Have you heard of the Holographic Principle?" he asked.
"Yes, sure," answered Vanessa, "We're a hologram, everything is a 3D hologram being projected from a, let's see, a ..."
"two-dimensional surface encoded with information," TechNick finished. "The information that is
"And if you collapsed the hologram, altered or destroyed the projection process," he continued,"what would remain would be that flat surface, replete with the data that is everything— including the ones you loved."
Vanessa thought for a moment, then said, "What the hell?! That's crazy! That's not possible, is it?"
"Unknown," replied the man of science, "but what we do know is that Reeper has built a very powerful, very dangerous disruptor of some sort.
He must be stopped before he carries out its deployment."
Vanessa Kane was quiet and still, crouched in the metal corridor next to Reeper's dream of destruction—of return.
How ironic it was, she was considering--
the criminal madman had already gone back to that flat plane of data.
She had shot him three times to be sure.
The hellish monster hummed loudly. The transceiver on her cuff was projecting beams of light in all directions and softly clicking.
She was trying not to think of Shannon Radiation when suddenly a vista opened up before her.
It was a beautiful landscape.
"Oh no, I'm starting to hallucinate!" she thought.
There appeared a man and a woman, smiling warmly with love. They were vibrant and in motion and yet oddly inanimate, like portraitures.
"Mom and dad," gasped Vanessa softly.
The machine went dark and quiet, as did the transceiver on her wrist.
And like before, they were gone.
It was done.
Vanessa Kane was lying on the beach with her favorite refreshment remembering how particularly
one-sided her debriefing had been. She had a burning curiosity as to what this weapon, this machine, actually was—but had been told nothing of the results of the cleanup; and she hadn't even been able to chide anything out of TechNick.
Well, she thought, at least the old gruff Director had given her a full week on the Riviera—unheard-of, and a bit of a bribe she suspected.
Another thing unheard-of, she realized as she started to relax and take this chance to rest--
a feeling of regret.
Written Content G.A.M. cc
Kane Cura Photography