Beneath McPhearson

By William R. Insko, Jr.

In August, 1983, mathematics graduate student, Drew Buchanan, accidently discovers a deep underground installation beneath the university’s chemistry building. When asked, others know nothing about the installation. Drew’s interest grows into an obsession, fueled by the murder of several friends and several attempts on his own life. Further investigation leads to more mystery, suspense, and conspiracy. Who are the people beneath McPhearson? Taking things into his own hands, Drew eventually encounters the most advanced technology the world will ever know. The cost for this discovery could be his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483530246

Book preview

day.

BENEATH MCPHEARSON

CHAPTER 1

AUGUST, 1983 – DR. LAKELY

It was another late night for Dr. Samuel Lakely. Over his 40-year career Lakely had spent thousands of nights working long after everyone else was asleep. This, no doubt, added to his great success. But even without his dedication, Dr. Lakely would have been considered one of the greatest scientists of our time.

He was a short man, in fact, his friends would sometimes make fun of his height. This in no way bothered Lakely for he was the type of man who laughed with his friends, even when it was at his expense. Although he was only 5 feet, 4 inches tall, his deep blue eyes, fair skin, and thinning auburn hair were always noticed. All of these features combined to form his stereotypic appearance. That is, Lakely looked like the typical aging German scientist you see in the late movies. People meeting him for the first time were taken by the fact he spoke with an English accent, rather than a thick German one. But any way you sliced Dr. Samuel Lakely, you came up with a quality human being and an internationally admired scientist.

Lakely did his best work at night, especially late at night. It was quiet then, most peaceful. There were no loud noises from outside. No one was mowing their lawn, no kids playing, no loud cars speeding down the street. The only sounds present were those generated by his thoughts. The only sounds Lakely could hear were those of reflection. Lakely was reflecting on his own life. Had he hurried through life too fast? Did all the events of his life have to be so rushed? He knew his love for science forced many events to occur prematurely, for example, his graduation from college at the age of 17, and his receiving a duel Ph.D. in astrophysics and chemistry when only 20 years old. But these events had to occur prematurely. A man’s quest for knowledge takes its own course, and this course can no more be shifted than the course of the stars. Lakely knew that if he were given another life, it would be no different from his present one.

Research was the only occupation he had known. To study a particular problem Lakely didn’t have to be in his study at home or his office at the University. He could work on a problem anywhere. However, his favorite place to work was the University observatory. It wasn’t the computer equipment or the state-of-the-art light and radio-wave sensing devices that drew Dr. Lakely to the observatory. Rather, it was the outdated convex telescope. The telescope was built during the 1920s and its history was rich. It was only 10 feet long, constructed largely of bronze and brass. The man who constructed the telescope was an engineer, a scientist, and more importantly, an artist. Everything from the eyepiece to the main lens fit with precision. All moving parts were tight, even after all these years. Aesthetically, the brass components of the telescope were breathtaking. Lakely himself took great pains to keep them that way. Faculty and students alike rarely used the telescope for serious research. Still, this particular piece of equipment served as an inspiration to Lakely. He had used this same telescope for his dissertation in 1944.

At that time Lakely was a young man of 19 and the telescope was located in England, not the United States. One night while gathering data, a German V-1 Buzz Bomb hit the building where he was working. The building was completely destroyed and Lakely spent the following three months in the hospital. He wasn’t able to return to the building until after the war. While searching through the rubble that once served as an outstanding research facility, Lakely and several of his friends found the telescope. Buried under tons of brick and mortar, it took several days of digging before the damage to the telescope could be assessed. Lakely was the first person to get close enough for a thorough inspection; what he saw would influence him for the rest of his life.

The telescope was unharmed. It had not been touched by anything except dust. There were no scratches, scrapes, or dents. There were no explanations. There was only the telescope sitting in sharp contrast to the total destruction that surrounded it. In a time where it seemed the world had gone insane, it could very well be there was hope. Perhaps shattered lives could be mended and the sadness of death overcome. Perhaps the emptiness brought forth by devastation could itself be defeated. To Lakely, the telescope was a telescope no more; it was a symbol of expectation and confidence.

During the late 1940s and 1950s, Lakely’s fame as an astrophysicist grew. The height of his career came in 1965 when he was nominated for a Nobel Prize for his groundbreaking research on atmospheric molecular structure. After receiving this great honor, Lakely decided to devote the rest of his life to this area of research. By 1967, he had become the world’s foremost authority on the atmospheric structure of the planets, and in 1979 he accepted a teaching and research position in the United States. Even after coming to the United States, Dr. Samuel Lakely was still producing. Unlike other tenured professors, his output of research had not declined with the passing of years. Even in his late 50s, he hoped to have another 15 or 20 years to give to science.

The problem Lakely was studying this particular night was part of a larger project, a project he and his associates had been working on for the last two years. For Lakely it was a first. That is, the problem wasn’t of an extraterrestrial nature, it was much closer to home. The main object of investigation was the earth’s atmosphere. In his studies of other planets, Dr. Lakely had learned much about his own planet. It was a very logical and natural move for him to focus his attention in this direction. Besides, the project had important environmental implications. Lakely and his associates were studying NRC-20, a new compound to be used in jet engine fuel.

There was nothing spectacular about NRC-20, that is, it wasn’t going to revolutionize the aviation industry. Its only purpose was to lubricate the fuel line system of a jet engine. What made NRC-20 so attractive was the fact that it could be manufactured at one-tenth the cost of conventional fuel line lubricants. Furthermore, the effectiveness of NRC-20 was just as good, if not better, than the lubricants now in use. But Dr. Lakely wasn’t interested in how well NRC-20 worked or even how much it cost. He was only concerned with how NRC-20 affected the atmosphere. If there was any potential for NRC-20 to harm the earth’s atmosphere, justification for its use couldn’t be made, especially since every jet airliner in the world would be using it. The possibility of such widespread usage had already captured the attention of some very powerful people, including United States Senator Barbara Craig. Lakely thought the Senator’s extreme interest in NRC-20 an interesting curiosity, but nothing more. The Senator was actually paying Lakely consultant fees for his expertise and advice. Most of Senator Craig’s concerns centered on a major contract recently secured by Foundation Avionics. The contract involved NRC-20 and just about every major airline company in the United State and across the world.

Normally, the different compounds contained in jet engine fuel did not have to be studied. This stemmed from the fact that after burning they no longer existed. Not so for NRC-20. Its chemical state before and after a jet engine burn was virtually identical. In other words, a jet airliner using NRC-20 would not only spread exhaust fumes into the atmosphere, but also NRC-20. And once this compound was in the atmosphere, it stayed there for years. So the research continued. Could NRC-20’s interaction with air molecules break down the existing molecular structure of the atmosphere, or was its release into the atmosphere a harmless event? This was the general, all-encompassing question, its apparent simplicity an utter illusion. Over the last two years, hundreds of questions were posed and hundreds were answered. What remained to be solved were the hundreds of questions that had been created by the previous answers. But such was research, always a continuous process with little or no finality. In the end, even the conclusive statements regarding NRC-20 would be protected by an entire theory of mathematical and statistical probability.

The hours passed with Dr. Lakely concentrating on only his work. Suddenly, the quiet was broken by the sound of footsteps. This was certainly a rare event reflected Lakely, someone else present in the building so late at night. He thought nothing of it at first, but the sounds kept getting louder. It sounded as though the person was lightweight; however, the steps were strangely discordant. Such sounds might be made by a heavier person trying not to make noise, Lakely thought. Perhaps it was someone who knew he was working late and they were trying to be considerate. Then he realized there was more than one person, several people were walking toward him. Could they be his associates, or perhaps some students, approaching him so late at night? Within a split second, the sounds he heard were no longer important for a strange smell had filled the air surrounding his head. The smell confused Lakely even more. He had smelled it before but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Then he thought, CHLOROFORM! How could this be? Why? Before Lakely could think another thought it happened. A strong, powerful hand grabbed his arm. At the same time another hand wrapped in a piece of cloth clung to his face covering both nostrils. He couldn’t believe it. He simply could not believe it.

CHAPTER 2

DREW

It was strange, once again he was falling, but this time it was different. The sensation he felt was definitely that of falling, but no wind pounded against his body. Even the scenery wasn’t changing. That is, the ground wasn’t closing in and his immediate surroundings were stationary. This time it could very well be that he was not falling. But how to explain what was happening to him? Suddenly he realized he wasn’t falling at all, instead, he was floating. It was almost enjoyable. Then panic set in. What if I hit the bottom? What would happen? Maybe it’s all a joke. I’m really falling and they’re trying to disguise it. Whatever it is I’m scared. I’m scared ... stop it ... stop it. Then he screamed out loud, stop it, please stop it.

Drew ... Drew ... wake up ... it’s time to get up.

What, get what?

Get up you crazy son-of-a-bitch. You were dreaming or something.

Oh, Matt, it’s you, Drew said, trying desperately to shake off the sleep.

Of course it’s me, who did you think it was, the chick in 502, Matt said as he laughed. First day of class, you better get your rear-end out of bed. You teach at 9:30 don’t ya?

You’re right, Drew replied. What time is it anyway?

It’s ten after nine, Matt chuckled. If you hurry, you can be late and look real bad. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even bother getting out of bed.

Oh, I’ll make it to class on time, Drew challenged. By the way, if my mind serves me right, don’t you teach a class at 9?

Oh my god! Matt said in shock. You’re right. I’ve got to run; I’ll talk to you later.

As Matt rushed out the apartment door, all he could hear was Drew laughing. Drew wasn’t amused because Matt was already late for his class. He was laughing because he knew that it was Wednesday and Matt didn’t have a class on Wednesday. The class Matt taught was on Thursdays. Drew pulled himself out of bed, still gloating about his minor victory over Matt. Matt was a good sport, they would both laugh about it later that evening. What Drew worried about now was getting to his class on time.

The first day of class was always exciting for Drew. The new people he would meet, the new faces, the enthusiasm. The beginning of the fall semester was especially great. After the long summer he was ready to get back into the old grind. Drew was a teaching assistant for the Department of Mathematics at State University. Said another way, Drew taught several of the same classes that tenured faculty taught, but at one-tenth the salary. He had been a graduate student in mathematics for the last three years and at the end of this year he was planning to graduate with his Ph.D.

As he stepped into the shower, for some reason the sound of the rushing water reminded him of his dream. It was very similar to dreams he had experienced before, but it was also different. As the water hit his face and trickled down his body he remembered the strange floating sensation. He thought how it must be very similar to the sensation astronauts feel floating in outer space. The water continued to dance off his face and chest and gently tickle his stomach and thighs. Drew had returned to a dream state of consciousness, which seemed to suspend him in both time and space and rocket his tension into extinction. Upon turning the water off, the reflections of his dream also ceased; however, for a brief moment he had relived his dream. The only difference was the exclusion of fear.

Quickly he dressed himself in an old pair of blue jeans, a faded, red flannel shirt and a pair of tennis shoes. The things he would need to get through the day had already been organized on his desk the night before. A notebook filled with lecture notes, two books, three pencils, and a map of the university. Before taking these things and leaving, Drew looked at his desk and the corner of the room it occupied. The desk was very small and very old, over 150 years old. It was made of the finest cherry and had originally been crafted by the Shakers. The piece of furniture had been in Drew’s family for years.

Next to the desk was a very large, black bookcase and a filing cabinet of the same color. The bookcase was filled with books. From as far back as high school, Drew had kept every mathematics textbook he had ever used or had been interested in. Linear algebra, calculus, and mathematical statistics were just a few of the dozens of topics represented. His personal library had been an excellent source of reference throughout his graduate studies. The filing cabinet was also filled to capacity. Old tests, homework problems, research projects, computer printouts, and hundreds of other documents were filed away.

What really caught Drew’s eye, however, was his computer equipment. Some type of machine covered just about every square inch of desktop. He had just purchased an IBM PC/XT (model 5160). The computer had the most RAM offered as well as the highest capacity hard drive, a built-in disk drive, sound card, and an 8087 math coprocessor. The monitor and printer were also new, as was his auxiliary telecommunications equipment. Although he made little money teaching, Drew had managed to invest thousands of dollars into his computer system. Everything he had was state-of-the-art, and when possible, he settled for nothing but the best.

Grabbing his notebook, books, and map, and locking the apartment door, he left for class. Normally the 10-minute walk to campus was very relaxing but today he was running late. The houses he passed were very similar to the house where he lived, and university students occupied most. The typical house was built in the early 1900s, had two stories and a front porch. Many were constructed of red brick and contained several trees in the front yard. At this time in the morning the neighborhood was still peaceful. The singing and rustling of birds was just about the only sound he could hear. The walk back home later that afternoon would be quite different. There would be a lot of people outdoors playing football and passing Frisbees. Others would simply sit on their front porch to watch all the activities. Of course, stereos would be blasting and car horns honking.

As Drew approached campus the number of people he could see grew. Thousands of people were converging on this one location. State University was enormous. The school was too large; it was nothing less than a monster. As soon as Drew reached the main gates he searched for his map. In his three years as a teaching assistant, he had never taught a class in the same building more than three or four times. Even the classes he attended as a student rarely met in the same building. This semester was no different. His Wednesday class met in Russell Hall and his Thursday class in McPhearson Labs. Drew wasn’t sure of the location of either building. In fact, he had never heard of McPhearson Labs. He thought to himself, M-c-P-h-e-a-r-s-o-n, must be a typo or else someone can’t spell. Hmm....

Stopping, he put down his books and faced west. Looking for the code associated with Russell Hall, he ran his finger down the long list of buildings. There it was 3-L. Not bad, he was fairly close to that location. As Drew stooped down to put his map away he happened to glance up. A smile came to his face when he saw no less than three others, stopped, glancing over their maps. The first day of class was always a zoo. The fact that State University was too large for humans didn’t help matters.

CHAPTER 3

JUST DISAPPEARED

After teaching, Drew had two classes of his own to attend. One had to do with experimental design and statistics and the other with linear algebra and computer programming. Both were interesting, but the latter was more useful. So many programming short cuts could be made using linear algebra. A mathematical or statistical program written in 100 lines without matrix operations could be written in 10 lines with matrix operations. Drew didn’t have to take either class because he had already satisfied all the course requirements for his doctoral program. However, with these two courses, his teaching responsibilities and dissertation, it was going to be a hectic semester.

While walking home from campus Drew thought of Matt. Friends for years and roommates for several months, Matt was a fun person to be around, but they had little in common. For one thing Matt was working on a doctorate in geography. They had taken several mathematics courses together, but beyond that their interests were quite different. Seldom did their conversations center on school.

No sooner had Drew’s thoughts shifted to something else, he happens to notice Matt walking several hundred feet in front of him. He recognized his clothing more than anything. Matt was a sharp dresser. From his dark blue, three-piece pin-striped suit to his wing-tipped shoes, he looked all business. The geography department’s polices on dress were both strict and enforced. They didn’t want their students looking like bums; rather, they wanted them to have the appearance of professional working people. Ass-wipes to say the least, but even without such a policy Matt would probably have dressed-up anyway, that was just his style.

Drew felt awkward about yelling, but then he thought what the hell. Matt ... I’m behind you ... wait up, he shouted as be began a slow trot in Matt’s direction.

Matt turned around and responded, Hey Drew. Very funny what you did this morning. I never could get one over you.

Drew smiled slightly and said, Never could, never will. Oh, by the way, how’d the class you’re taking go?

Oh you know, the usual. The professor came in, gave out a syllabus, told us our assignments had to be turned in on time, and no make-up exams. Then he let us go.

That’s exactly what I did, Drew said. I just love the first day of class, don’t you?

Nothin’ like it, Matt agreed. Any honeys in your class?

Oh, there’s some. But you know, it takes a lot to distract me.

You don’t have to remind me, Matt said jokingly, Saint Andrew and his studies mustn’t be disturbed.

Your escapades are usually enough to amuse me anyway, Drew replied. I was never one for the fast, exciting life.

I’m glad you realize your middle name is ‘boring.’

Ho, ho, very funny.

Speaking of boring, Matt said with some intensity, remember that colloquium you made me go to.

No, not offhand, Drew replied, caught somewhat off guard.

Oh come on, you remember, that physicist named Makely, Rakely, Fakely. I forget his name.

You mean Lakely, Drew remembered, and he wasn’t boring, that was one of the best lectures I’ve ever been to.

Well, I guess you haven’t heard, Matt continued, his voice gathering more momentum.

Heard what?

I read in the paper that two days ago he just disappeared.

Drew raised his voice saying, What do you mean, ‘he just disappeared.’

I don’t know, Matt said defensively, you don’t have to shout.

I’m sorry, Drew apologized, you know I like the guy’s work. At one time I wanted to be a student of his, remember, before I decided to do the mathematics bit. This confuses me?

From what I read it seems to have a lot of people confused, Matt replied, joining Drew’s attempt to take the edge off the conversation.

What paper did you read this in? Drew asked.

It’s in the Morning Journal. I think there’s a copy still sitting on the bathroom sink.

Drew couldn’t help himself when he replied, I was wondering when you found time to read the paper.

Matt smiled and said, At least I read the paper.

Drew couldn’t wait to read that newspaper. That’s all he thought about the rest of the way home. Did Lakely leave his wife? Maybe he got lost. Then again, it wasn’t like the guy was some sort of space cadet. Kidnapped? No, that type of thing doesn’t happen to university professors, at least not in the good ol’ United States. Drew couldn’t help but think these and other thoughts as they walked.

When they finally made it home, Matt was still talking about something but Drew hadn’t heard a single word. The only thing he could do was nod his head intermittently and hope Matt wouldn’t notice how absolute his disinterest was with the on-going conversation. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Drew made it to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him as he picked up the newspaper, there was the story about Lakely, splattered all over the front page.

And then you know what she said, Matt continued, she said she was a student in geography, right here at the university. Can you believe that? Silence. I said Drew, Matt repeated can you believe that?

Hu ... what ... oh yea, I can’t believe it, that’s strange. Drew hoped that was a good answer but at this point he really didn’t care. There it was in big letters, MIDWESTERN UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR MISSING.

I asked what year she was and she said a freshman. Boy did that blow my socks off, she looks like a damn senior.

Drew read on:

CLAREMONT - Dr. Samuel Lakely, a faculty member of Western State University, was reported missing by his wife early Tuesday morning. Autho. ...

Drew, you’ve got to see this girl, Matt continued, devastating Drew’s train of thought, she’s so good looking. And can you believe it, she’s interested in geography. We’ll have plenty to talk about.

Drew pulled himself together, Matt still babbling in the background. Drew continued reading:

Authorities announced late yesterday that Dr. Lakely was last seen in the university observatory. Lakely, who is in his late 50s, is internationally recognized for his research in the physical sciences. Over the. ...

Once again Drew lost all concentration. Matt’s voice had a tendency to carry, and in this instant, a bathroom door offered little competition. "She said her dad has a degree in geography and he owns his own oil wells. My god, what an opportunity. Drew, did you hear that ... Drew, what the hell are