Class Fives: Origins by Jon H. Thompson

Author:Jon H. Thompson [Thompson, Jon H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Goodreads: 28525789
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2012-03-05T17:00:00+00:00

Marvin drummed his fingers on the desk nervously, holding the handset tight against his ear. When the outgoing voice message clicked in, he hung up the phone and huffed.

Dr. Jenkins still wasn’t answering. It had been two days and the man hadn’t picked up any of the calls. At first he’d left urgent messages to get back in touch as soon as he was able. But after the fifth or sixth time, the anxiety had risen so high he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

He only hesitated a moment before plucking up the handset again and stabbing in the number he’d memorized. The phone was answered on the first ring.

“Yes?” a voice inquired.

“Mr. Crawford, please,” he responded.

“Please hold.”

The line clicked silent and Marvin turned to settle down on the edge of the desk.

He had a bad feeling every time he started to put the pieces of what little he knew together. It always seemed to lead toward a destination he would never want to visit.

The phone clicked to life again.

“Crawford,” the voice said.

Unconsciously Marvin straightened, as if in the man’s presence.

“Mr. Crawford, it’s Dr. Henry.”

“I know, please go on.”

“Well, sir, I can’t get through to Dr. Jenkins. I’ve been trying ever since our meeting but it keeps going to voicemail.”

“And he didn’t indicate where he was going?”

“No, not at all. He said something about getting in touch with Dr. Montgomery about the experiment but I don’t know how he’d do that.”

“We already tried to contact him ourselves,” Crawford said, “But it appears no one has seen him since the afternoon you spoke. It’s likely he left campus before you told me about him. He might have communicated with someone first. If he did, we’ll find out.”

Marvin was momentarily surprised.

“How?”

But Crawford seemed not to have even heard the question.

“Dr. Henry,” he said instead, “I need your assistance with something else. Something confidential.”

“Okay,” Marvin said slowly, his sense of caution perking up suddenly, “What would that be?”

“I need you to go to Los Angeles and observe some tests. I want you to let me know if they relate in any way to this other situation.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.”

“You’ll be briefed on the flight. There’ll be an escort at your place in about twenty minutes. Please pack quickly. You’ll be there a few days.”

“Be where? Los Angeles? What about monitoring the system? I still have a lot of calculations to do here.”

“This takes priority,” Crawford cut him off. “Consider it an order.”

Marvin rose from the edge of the desk, alarmed.

“But I don’t really work for you, sir. Sorry, but I work for the university.”

“That’s right,” Crawford said with certainty, “And when I hang up you’ll be receiving a call from the University Chancellor who will tell you to do what you’re told. Don’t take long on that other call, Doctor. You still have to get packed.”

The phone clicked off, leaving Marvin listening to something dead.

Slowly he hung up the handset, feeling as if he’d been smacked across the head by something heavy and hard.

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