Advance: (Advance Industries) (Book 1)

  Advance

  Advance Industries

  Book One

  MORE FROM K A DUGGSY

  Today, Tomorrow, Forever

  Today, Tomorrow, Forever. Carey's Revenge

  Advance

  K A DUGGSY

  Advance

  Advance Industries

  BOOK ONE

  This edition published in 2016

  Copyright © K A Duggsy

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  ISBN 978-1523706167

  Printed and bound by CreateSpace

  DBA of On-Demand Publishing, LLC

  www.createspace.com

  Cover Design by selfpubbookcovers/shardel

  Interior Formatting & Design: BellaTrix Books

  Set in 14pt. Garamond plc

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without the prior written permission of the author. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  "Time is something we can't control.

  We may think we have plenty of it

  but it ticks past so quickly,

  before we know it, its run out"

  Prologue

  I’m battling an internal war.

  Mentally arguing with myself which is causing me to question my sanity.

  I don’t want to move but also want to check that I can. I want to open my eyes, yet I also don’t. I want to check I’m alive, but if I am, what reality awaits me?

  I’m scared which isn’t unusual. But I don’t feel like I expected – pain and fear. The others that went before me burned.

  Their screams hung frozen in the air, suspended for what felt like eternity before they became nothing... ash... piles of clothes.

  My eyes are clenched shut, as are my fists. Somehow I know I’m no longer in the tube and that should be a relief, though relief isn’t what I’m feeling. The air is whipping at my curled up form. I’m wearing only a lab gown, my legs and feet are bare and the harsh chill of the wind is seeping into my limbs. I can sense an open-ness around me. I’m outside but that shouldn’t be possible.

  Heavy footsteps headed my way convince me to lie lifeless in the hope I’ll be left alone.

  I can’t take anymore.

  My days are filled with being poked, prodded, and tested upon... Until finally I was put forward for the newest invention.

  The worst out of all I’ve experienced so far.

  An honour they told me, as if I was supposed to feel blessed or privileged.

  Not many qualified for candidate status; but I did.

  The footsteps come to rest beside me.

  “We’ve got a live one!” A male voice shouts out.

  My hair whips over my face tickling my nose and I resist swiping it away and alerting this stranger to my... Well, my alertness.

  I’m not at the lab or the complex. I know this even with my eyes closed. I’m somewhere new and a fresh fear grips me.

  Fear of the unknown.

  The base of my neck tingles all the way down to my spine, chilling me further as it does.

  Someone touches me and I can’t help but flinch expecting more unwelcome sensations... but this touch is... different, hesitant even.

  Touch is bad. Touch means pain. So why is this touch not hurting?

  I open my eyes and squint against the harsh beams of daylight. I can no longer still my trembling limbs.

  Huge emotion filled eyes stare back at me. Concern clearly apparent in the watery nature of them. Beautiful large hazel orbs framed by dark lashes stare into my broken soul.

  The hand smoothes the hair gently from my face as I do nothing; but stare into those eyes.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  I can’t answer, nor do I shrink back from his touch. It’s as if he’s hypnotised me. I can’t pull away from those eyes. Instead I blink rapidly just to make certain that this is real; I’m not dreaming.

  “Shit! It worked,” he mutters to himself.

  What worked? I wonder briefly.

  He doesn’t break our eye contact; he’s studying me curiously as he rubs his jaw with a shaky hand. He frowns as if suddenly remembering something and his eyes pull away from mine and start darting around as if he’s searching... for others?

  “It worked!” He yells over his shoulder. His voice is a mixture of authoritative wariness. He rubs his jaw again appearing agitated while I stare up at... My new enemy?

  The last thing I see before allowing exhaustion to claim me is those eyes.

  Chapter 1

  Faith

  Advance Industries

  Press Conference

  I shuffle forward, my feet dragging on the pristine marble flooring. I’m not looking forward to this. Mainly because I can’t stand being in close proximity to the other city residents, but also the president of our city and Advance Industries is apparently making an unusual appearance to explain yet another new invention.

  As a reporter this should interest me. It should, but the problem is his speeches are always long but frustratingly vague. He tends to leave out crucial information and rejects any questions at the end. It really is pointless calling a press conference when he refuses to elaborate. But I guess he loves the sound of his own voice, guys like him generally do. Plus, why miss a chance to show off his superiority?

  The lighting changes subtly and I sigh knowing that he won't really be attending. I don’t know how I know this, but the slight flickering of the lights is a familiar feeling. Almost like déjà vu.

  I look around at the other reporters and high society members filling the room. No one else bats an eyelid. I mutter under my breath, annoyed that every reporter in the grandiose room have wasted their time to come and watch and listen to a holograph.

  Typical.

  An awed hush falls over the room and I look up to see Johnson Franks, the president of Advance Industries as he appears on stage. He’s wearing grey trousers that really need an invitation to meet his shoes, and a white shirt with a red tie that matches his bulbous nose. His stomach is struggling to be contained within his shirt, he looks uncomfortably pregnant. He glances around slowly, his beady eyes checking to make sure he has everyone’s attention, that all eyes are completely focused on him before getting right down to business:

  “Advance Industries is a company that prides itself on forward thinking. Providing you with technology to enhance and ease your hectic lives. We have introduced many new items to the market from which you all benefit greatly.” He pauses to appreciate the numerous heads nodding in agreement.

  “Times have changed, and our newest offering simply called Advance is our most exciting yet. It is a system designed to transport us from one place to another, efficiently and effectively. The only comparison I can call upon so that you may better understand the design is that it is similar to time travel. The advance tubes have been designed to transfer a single person to a place in this time, not the past or future, but rather like the public transport of years gone by. Advance is a way to get from A to B faster than ever before.

  Teleportation has been researched for many, many years. The problem it always encountered was the amount of data storage required to make such machines successful.

&nbs
p; In the days of old this just would not have been possible. We however, at Advance Industries are the leaders of technological breakthroughs.

  In order to benefit from these tubes, the place you are travelling from and travelling to must both be in possession of a tube. We will begin installing in the near future at no expense to you in certain public places, such as the shopping precinct. They can also be erected in your homes if you so wish.

  Imagine how much simpler life will be with these tubes, especially for those of us over a certain age. Simply activate a tube, choose your destination and be transported there in seconds.

  At the moment we are only sampling singular Advance tubes but we hope that after proving the success of these, we will be able to supply double size and family size, so that travel together will be possible.

  We are now ready to start our human trials and are looking for willing participants. You will of course be thoroughly vetted, measured, weighed and recorded to make sure you meet the criteria.

  Your safety is of the utmost importance to us.

  Those that pass our rigorous testing will receive many benefits, the most important, I believe, earning your place in history forever.

  In any new experiment or venture there is always a first.

  Will that be you?

  With your help we believe these changes will reach fruition.

  Those of you with comm-recs will automatically receive the enrolment forms. Those of you without can apply at our information centre. Our technicians are on hand and ready to answer any questions you may have.

  Thank you for your time.”

  And then his image was gone.

  “What a pompous prick,” I mutter, not believing the speech I just heard.

  Human experiments? Is he for real?

  I watch only slightly amused at the stampede of people trying to exit and make their way to the information centre. Others eagerly activate their comm-recs and peruse the enrolment form, whilst I try to digest what I just heard.

  Surely this is another invention for the rich to benefit from. But if you have to ask then you can't afford it, right?

  Advance Industries are starting to take over everything. The level of their expansion is truly impressive but it doesn’t sit right with me. I’m not sure anyone should have so much control over others.

  I’ve been wondering if they’ll eventually branch out into off the grid living. Advance Industries is only interested in creating and maintaining a plush city. Soon the poor will be flushed out like vermin. Their chances might be better off grid.

  With all these new inventions surely people shouldn't still be forced to live on the street. But, in this city there are two types of people; the ridiculously rich and ridiculously poor.

  I take another look around the room I’m standing in.

  It's big enough to house all the poor but going to waste. It's for show, like many things here at the complex, used only for the bigwigs to host lavish parties and pat each other on their backs over their greed. I always feel out of place here, almost like I’m an invisible observer. Understated is clearly not a concept Johnson Franks is familiar with.

  I leave the conference centre which is situated on the same site as the complex. Only the most upstanding community members reside here and I practically run outside desperate to escape from the people I’m classed as being one of.

  Inhaling the air and clearing my mind, I decide to peruse the shopping precinct across the way before returning to the complex where I also live, when someone enquires;

  “Faith Elaina?”

  Squinting at the sun’s rays I look at the man before me. He's stood just outside of one of the gated entrances to the complex. His clothes are creased and filthy but oddly enough he isn't. His dark hair is long as is his beard and his hazel eyes beseeching.

  I walk closer to exit the complex and reply, “Yes, can I help you?”

  “I have a story I think you'll be very interested in Miss Elaina.”

  “Oh, really, what kind of story would that be?” I ask uninterestedly.

  “Disappearances. Mainly the ones of us homeless folk. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  At my narrowing gaze he rushes on. “I have proof that they're not simply going off grid but are being taken.”

  Well that certainly piques my interest but I’m no fool. He's obviously after a warm drink and possibly free food. He doesn't seem like one of the crazies though. In fact, apart from his well-worn clothes he doesn't come across as the typical homeless guy. For a start he's too well spoken. My gut tells me he isn't lying and I try to always listen to my gut instinct.

  I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, I'll hear you out. Shall we get a coffee?” I point to the coffee parade across the way. A little slice of heaven just outside the shopping precinct, many different colourful pop up stalls selling varying cups of deliciousness with limited seating alongside.

  He nods and we make our way over, place our orders which I pay for and sit across from each other. He fidgets nervously and his eyes keep flitting around warily. He hunches forward gripping his coffee tightly.

  “Look you're not going to believe me but I have to try. I know what you people think of us, but I am not a liar or fantasist, okay?” He says meeting my gaze head on.

  “Fine, and by the way you have no idea what I think of the homeless. Don't judge me and I won't judge you. Deal?” I reply, holding out my hand for him to shake.

  He smiles, clearly taken aback by the gesture as his eyes remain on my hand. Finally, he accepts my offering and we shake hands. His smile widens considerably, probably shocked that I haven’t pulled out sanitizing lotion.

  “What I'm about to tell you will sound ludicrous. I'm well aware of that. I will sound like a crazy but I assure you I'm not. People have been disappearing from the streets for a while now. At first it was nothing noticeable but it's steadily increased. I recently discovered that they're being taken.”

  “Taken by whom?” I question.

  He swallows and shakes his head slightly as if he can’t quite believe what he’s about to say before whispering, “Johnson Franks!”

  I can’t help myself and laugh out loud, earning even more curious looks from the people already staring because I’m having coffee with a homeless. His face falls and he sits back in his seat.

  “Yes that is ludicrous. What could Johnson Franks possibly want with the homeless?” I’m starting to think he is crazy. Johnson Franks is many things, but abducting homeless? No chance.

  “Think about it. Most of us have no family, no one would notice or even care if we disappear. No-one will come looking for us and the streets get cleaned at the same time.”

  “That's a very convincing theory, but are you really expecting me to believe that Johnson Franks is going around abducting people?” I arch an eyebrow at the absurdity and quickly decide that I need to wrap this up.

  “No not him but his guards, following his orders.”

  “Again what for? What would his purpose be?”

  “I can see you don't believe me but like I said - I have proof.”

  “Which is?” Show me proof I’m thinking and I won’t send you away. This could be a juicy story if it’s true, though I’m not holding my breath.

  “I filmed it on my comm-rec,” he says.

  Now I am shocked. Only the rich have comm-recs (communication recorder / receivers). We wear them as a cuff around the wrist similar to watches for easier accessibility. They control more or less everything and are capable of recording, projecting and uploading data in the blink of an eye. They can produce holograph images and have a whole host of other uses. I’d be lost without mine. The poor or more precisely – the homeless, don’t own comm-recs. How the hell has he got one? My head starts spinning with ways he could have acquired one, and I can’t think of one valid reason.

  “How on earth do you have a comm-rec?” I blurt suspiciously then mentally chastise myself for my condescending tone.

  He sighs
and his shoulders slump. “I wasn't always homeless Faith; in fact I was quite wealthy, I still am. I even lived in the complex.”

  My mouth drops open and I make no attempt to look professional. This is getting interesting.

  “I know what you're going to ask so I'll tell you, but this has to be in the strictest confidence?” He continues.

  I nod enthusiastically, unable to pronounce words as my head is trying to catch up with what he just said.

  “I worked for Advance Industries. I was one of their leading scientists until I began voicing concerns over an invention they wanted to start testing. I had to drop off their radar for a while. I left everything behind except my comm-rec.”

  “When was this?” I ask.

  “About seven to eight months ago. You may have heard about it, I'm Fraser Laudnam.”

  I let out a gasp. Some city residents look my way and I force myself to find some composure. Of course I heard about it. Reporters had fallen over themselves; me included to solving the mystery of his disappearance. In fact, it was my first ever assignment as a reporter. The great Professor Laudnam just upped and vanished one day and Advance Industries offered a substantial reward for any information that would lead to the safe recovery of their most valued employee.

  I inch forward looking at him anew. Beneath the long wild locks and unkempt beard, I can just make out the man he was before. I can’t believe I’m sat having coffee with Professor Laudnam. I force myself to sit still and slightly straighter. I must not get all giddy and act like a fan when I’m supposed to be a serious reporter. But knowing that he sought me out over the tons of other reporters is doing funny things for my self-confidence. Why me?

  “What was so controversial about the invention that forced you to flee to the streets?”

  He sighs again and leans forward lowering his voice. “We were working on a kind of teleportation device and the results were astounding. Really, really, promising when I started to hear talks of it being used for something other than its intended purpose. They wanted to experiment on humans which is absolutely preposterous. We are too large a matter for it to work. The strain to a human would be substantial.”