Halley McDonough

Chapter One: The Clearing

Excerpt

Moving into tech management had required a mental shift for Mr. Foret. Some days, running Claxon Inc.’s newest research and development center, with all its brilliant, fragile employees, was akin to managing a preschool—there was a certain level of hysteria he battled daily. He had come up in the more conservative financial services industry, and if one of his old employees spiraled, it was usually more blatant: hookers and blow, or at worst, a short note and a loud bang. Explanations could be given and morale restored with an allusive joke: “Well, it looks like Rob couldn’t hang with the big boys.”

He swiped up on his tablet and the video feed projected so clearly onto the wall that it was as if his latest acquisition had been teleported into the room with him. He watched her pace: all long limbs and auburn hair. She had the potential to be just what he needed to grasp that final, golden rung of the ladder, if only he could unlock her secrets. There was something about her, something that his best scientists had been unable to explain, and he had brought in a specialist from New York to try to exact what it was about her that made the small hairs of his arms stand on end.

He left the live-stream playing on the wall and opened the video file that had clinched the board’s approval. It was surveillance footage from a back alley behind a diner in New Jersey. Mostly, it recorded busboys throwing trash bags into the dumpster and the entrance and exit of employees going on and off shift. But this clip showed something very different. It started at 00:13:35 on February twelfth of this year. Eight minutes later, the action ended, but the recording ran on, cataloguing the aftermath. Mr. Foret’s finger hovered over the play button before his tablet buzzed with an incoming text from his assistant. The researcher had arrived.

His in-house experts agreed that Dr. Jasper was the fastest way to monetize this opportunity. Mr. Foret hoped that Dr. Jasper would be able to understand and document the complexities of the problem before the end of second quarter. Then it was a simple matter for the programmers to develop the proper tweaks to the algorithm. The elevator dinged and released the doctor to his view. He was younger than Mr. Foret had expected, maybe in his mid-thirties, and wore faded jeans and a T-shirt with a stylized image of an octopus under his blazer. He was cradling a paper bag in one arm.

“Doctor, welcome to The Clearing. I’m Max Foret, the director of this facility. We’re very pleased you’re here.”

“What the hell is your problem? Your goons grabbed me off the street and shoved me in the back of an SUV. I thought I was headed for an interrogation room. We drove ten hours straight to this godforsaken—I had to pee in an empty—” he stopped when he noticed the live-stream on the wall. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t see you there.”

Mr. Foret smirked and swiped down on his tablet. The doctor jumped as the girl vanished. The Clearing was full of new tech that might seem like magic to the uninitiated.

“I apologize for any inconvenience you’ve perceived, but a certain amount of haste was needed. We are ready to begin. That theoretical situation I had you exploring has necessitated a practical application.” Mr. Foret gestured to the orange wall that moments before had shown a girl pacing through a living room. “That was your subject.”

The doctor stared at the wall and Mr. Foret paused a moment to let him process. He could see the ramifications flip across the doctor’s open face. The man was tempted to forgo his anger, he just needed a little push. “I thought you would want to get started with the video right away, but if you’re too bothered by the trip, by all means, go get some rest.”

When the doctor looked back at him, Mr. Foret knew he had him. Something in his eyes had sparked to life. He made a note in the doctor’s profile. For all he complained, the doctor had reasons to be as eager about this project as Mr. Foret was himself.

“Why didn’t you just send the video to me in New York?” the doctor asked. “There are plenty of ways to encrypt electronic files these days.”

“Yes, and just as many ways to break them. We’re the only ones on this right now. I can’t allow any of Claxon’s competitors to get their hands on this video.” Mr. Foret drew the video clip up on his tablet, cued to the relevant time signature, and handed it to the other man. “Just hit play.”

The doctor watched the video once, twice. Again and again, his eyes captured the footage of a girl running from three men in black. One of the men caught her; they struggled. The girl went limp on the pavement, and then the three men exploded. Mr. Foret was intimately acquainted with every frame. Dr. Jasper lowered himself into a chair and placed his paper bag on the floor. It fell over, and out spilled a dozen glossy comic books, but the doctor took no notice, eyes stuck to the video. Over his expressive face, a series of emotions played: awe, avarice, fear, hope. Mr. Foret watched the doctor’s reactions as he waited, and made notes on his newest employee. The ease with which the doctor had been distracted from his anger by the project at hand could be useful in the future. It was good to know that he was pliable this way.

The doctor raised his head. “Has this been authenticated?”

“By several of our in-house experts. It’s real.”

“This is incredible.” His voice was hoarse.

“Yes. Is there anything you can tell me based solely on the footage?”

“Nothing I would like to speculate on just now.” The doctor swiped a hand over his mouth, looking as if he was stopping himself from saying more.

“I had a profile drawn up. All the relevant data. Would you like to review it before going in?”

“No, I’d like to form my own opinion. Just now, I’d like to gauge my initial reaction without being biased any further. Her quarters are to my specifications?”

“Just so, Doctor,” Mr. Foret said. “If you would rather settle in first, you’re welcome to wait until tomorrow.” He wanted to test the doctor’s commitment. “I know it’s been a trying day.”

“No, no. No time like the present. I’m ready now.”

“If you think it best, Doctor.” Mr. Foret wanted Dr. Jasper to feel he had made the decision for himself.

“Yes, take me to her.”

“Very well.” Mr. Foret stood up. “I will show you to security. They will get you all set with access, and then you can meet your subject.”

The doctor stood eagerly and walked over to the elevator.

Mr. Foret smirked and followed. Sometimes it was too easy.

The comic books remained behind on the floor, as the men waited for the elevator in silence. Yes, Mr. Foret noted, Dr. Jasper was the right man for this job.

About the Author

Halley McDonough is a fiction writer, currently at work on a literary speculative novel about disabilities made manifest.