The Only Thing That Counts

By Anthony Van

Steve was a thirtyish, self-absorbed plant geneticist who felt unfulfilled taking over his father’s plant sales business. When an unusual order from a customer piqued his curiosity, he bumbles his way through some novice detective work, tailing Paul— his new customer—to, what appears to be, an abandoned factory.
Things became sinister when a frantic email tells of rebellion and tragedy and leaves Steve with some difficult decisions. Snapping into action, he obeys the bizarre instructions. The path leads to a futuristic underground base where he discovers the shocking death toll caused by a virulent biological agent. Wearing borrowed protective gear Steve is overwhelmed by the carnage he sees as he explores the strange subterranean facility.
An encounter with a lone survivor, Malcolm, provides a source of inside information and the means for a narrow escape.
Destruction of evidence, bureaucratic intrusion, a fatal explosion and a female reporter all join to complicate a nefarious scheme.
Details come together for Steve as he plans to revisit the underground base to retrieve some evidence. His incursion involves a dive through the underwater entry. Inside he is stunned by what he discovers. Is it treachery?
The conflict without and within Steve lead to self-examination and a realignment of priorities with reference to perspectives of life recorded by his father in a well worn Bible.
Avoiding detection is a constant challenge and Steve is about to learn how the reporter, Kelly, is involved in the whole plot when he is knocked unconscious.
Deemed useful to the plotters, four prisoners are then transported to a secret Pacific base where they are transported to the lunar surface.
The amazing thrill of the launch soon disappeared as Steve puts his life on the line to try and locate the virus storage. All too quickly they are set to work in a domed lunar settlement. What happens next illustrates clearly what ordinary people might do when driven by desperation.
Jodi and Kelly end up preventing Steve’s untimely demise after a calamitous return to the lunar surface.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anthony Van
• Release date: Apr 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781370643325

Anthony Van

What does a retired teacher do? Especially a teacher with a hyperactive imagination and ingrained work habits. Well this one writes. And being a Christian, each novel I have written necessarily is pieced together from a Christian perspective.I have a broad range of interests which include science and technology, mathematics, travel, sports and the interrelationship of people. Much of what intrigues me about people is that some pursue truth with the determination of a bloodhound while others almost ignore existential ideas and while away their short time spent on earth being distracted by people or pleasures or possessions or power.Writing is a hobby. It allows me to research and self educate, and it also permits me to refine my perspectives of concepts existential and theological.

Book preview

THE ONLY THING THAT COUNTS

Published by Anthony Van at Smashwords

Copyright Anthony Van 2012

2nd Edition 2021

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorised retailer. Thank you for your support.

Chapter 1

Reflection

Distorted slightly, the mirrored image in the old window spooked him a little as he cast a sideways glance. In the growing gloom, the glow of the monitor cast a surreal radiance upon his face, as if he were in contact with an alien device. As he sat there staring at his computer screen, he reflected on the events that had led up to this dangerous state of affairs.

Steve’s mind raced back. How had he become involved? Secrets roiled, and a crowd of questions, like a huddle of bidding stock agents, vied for attention in his mind. There were reports of people dying, and a revelation just too mind boggling to grasp. The ramifications, too momentous to consider, were all pressing down on him like some huge weight. He ran his hand through his dishevelled, sandy hair and read the words on the screen again.

Steve backgrounded the curious trail that brought him to this pivotal decision. At what point had things contrived to involve him? He was trying to think of the first incident that had directed his steps to this critical situation. Was it just some random event, fate, or some giant hand that ordered the cosmos, which had led him to this juncture?

It had only been a few short weeks since his somewhat humdrum life had been thrown into turmoil. Here he was, a thirty-year-old man, feeling as though his world was becoming unstable, teetering. The immensity of events and the imminent need to make decisions along with his own feelings of inadequacy, all compounded to add to his gloom.

The office was darkened with the onset of evening, but Steve was oblivious to the passing of time as he mulled over the bizarre circumstances in which he had become entangled.

*****

He was a qualified biochemist and plant geneticist, having completed his degree part time three years previous. It would have been easier to do the whole course full time, but circumstances had required him to work at his father’s plant nursery in the outer northern suburbs of the city. His mother had died while he was a teenager. His dad had suffered ill health for a long time after—all the while trying to keep the business running and raising three children. Neither his older brother John, who was a doctor living in the eastern suburbs, nor his sister Caz were interested in inheriting the business, so it had been left up to Steve to partner his dad.

‘Good ol’ Stephen Robert James’, thought Steve. What had been a short stint of being a helping hand had turned into an all-consuming endeavour. His father had succumbed to heart disease early that year and left him trying to continue running the business with Jimmy, a young local, working full time. Anne and Sally, who were sort of permanent casuals, and Jodie, a friend of the family who came in when needed, made up the rest of the staff.

Steve jumped as his ruminations were interrupted by a loud clatter at the front of the store section. Some further rattling signalled the unlocking and opening of the tired, glass panelled door.

You here, Steve? It was Caz.

Yeah, I’m in the office.

Sorry for the racket. I dropped my keys and then the docket book fell, his sister said as she spilled the keys and book on the other chaotic desk. Don’t stay here too long Steve. You’re always spending too much time in this place. She paused, waiting for some response, but none came so she went on.

You need to get out and enjoy yourself a bit. There’s a barbeque at David’s place tonight. It wouldn’t hurt you to socialise a bit, Caz cooed in her motherly fashion as she drew near.

She looked casually neat in tailored trousers and black woollen top with the collars of a crisp white shirt splayed over the open neckline. Steve quickly minimised the troublesome email, and left displayed some genetic lineages of plant cultures he’d been updating earlier.

No, I’ve got a little bit to do, but I shouldn’t be long.

You always say that and then end up staying half the night. She paused with a look of concern. Are you alright? You ought to give it a break.

Yeah, I guess so, Steve offered, and Caz sighed a sort of ‘what’s the use’ kind of sigh and continued.

Anyway, I thought I’d come in for a short time and process a few invoices… and pay the Watson bill, and then I won’t have to come in tomorrow. You don’t mind do you? she added.

No, of course not; I’m grateful that you come in at all. It’s a bit of an imposition on you, especially now.

What, this? she said incredulously tapping her belly, I’m only four months and he…. or she, is no trouble at all. I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I quite enjoy being a human incubator, she continued, briefly rubbing his shoulders. Steve arched back into the massage which ceased just as he began to loosen up. Anyway, let me get my work done. We’re going out tonight so I need to get a move on.

Caz went to the other desk and cleared a space so she could settle down to work. She mumbled something about computerising the bookwork using a better program and then concentrated on her task, leaving Steve to resume his reverie.

Since his dad had died, Caz had helped with the financial records, transferring them onto computer— a task that had been long overdue— and trying to keep the business profitable. This was a great relief for Steve who hated the bookwork side of the business. He was much more interested in propagating plants from cellular tissue cultures, cuttings and seed, experimenting with developing hybrid strains and modifying plant features.

In fact his involvement with his cultures sometimes meant he slept the night on a bunk in the back room behind the office, rather than drive the ten minutes required to travel to the family home. A home in which he was the lone occupant. It wasn’t just that he was alone; it was also the memories contained in the place, and its rambling size, that added to the oppression of the solitude.

Involuntarily Steve shivered. Although it was a chill October evening, the shiver had little to do with the temperature. He focused again on the email on the screen. It glowed more brightly in the fading light. The instructions were familiar to him now but he reread them anyway.

‘… go to the service elevator in the basement. Press the ‘B’ button three times, Press the ‘1’ button twice and then Press the ‘B’ button twice…’

It seemed weird the first time he had read them and it still verged on fictional farce in his mind. He thought to himself that maybe if it hadn’t appeared so unreal— if he wasn’t so curious—he would approach this problem more analytically.

His inquisitiveness now tantalised. He had to find out what this was all about. Maybe it was some sort of sick joke. If Steve hadn’t been so curious, he may have been more aware of the possible danger—or at least more cautious with his actions.

Why was he considering going? Did he need some sort of adventure and start taking risks to shake himself from his apathy? Steve’s mind wondered again as he brooded over his meandering life.

When he came out of university he was so sure of himself. He would go into genetic research and make a name for himself developing dry land, disease resistant vegetables that would feed the world—or something like that. Steve smiled sardonically. It was all a bit hazy in his mind now. He was very tired and he stared in a dreamy trance as his thoughts wandered haphazardly.

He reflected, illogically, that his plans had definitely included marrying Angela.

They had known each other for years and had talked fondly. He had thought they had an understanding. It wasn’t as if they had dated or anything, because, he reasoned, he had been busy with his studies. They had both been involved in the church youth group and that was probably the extent of their social interaction together. Angela, who was an attractive natural blonde, seemed to regularly gravitate to his side when they were at church. It was almost ironical, if it hadn’t been so shattering, that on the day he was going to ask Angela out for a date, she came into church with her new boyfriend, Jeff, on her arm. For all his uncharitable wishes about Jeff, Steve reluctantly admitted to himself that not only was he relatively good looking, in a tall, dark sort of way, but he was a genuine guy in a ‘what you see is what you get’ style. Jeff was friendly and thoughtfully aware of Angela’s close friendship with Steve and also seemed to understand his pain.

Steve recalled how he tried to withdraw honourably, but in truth he had often been sulking and morose in their company for most of the four years since. Jeff, Angela and he had become friendly acquaintances, although he still found himself occasionally envying Jeff, in his lower moments. And their recent wedding had renewed his depression and self-pity.

Again, he had to shake himself loose from his day dreaming. Was that the source of his recklessness? Was he being a bit self-destructive? The idea rattled him. The thought that he didn’t care enough about his own future—his own safety—to try and preserve it at all costs, made him chew his lip distractedly.

But that wasn’t the case, was it? It wasn’t just about him. This dilemma hinged on issues greater than his personal safety. If his information was true, this was about basic things such as right and wrong, about protecting people and, maybe, nations; and bringing some kind of justice to bear on those guilty of betraying their countrymen. He knew he had to find out.

His meandering thoughts were broken by Caz leaving. She came across to the doorway.

Have to go Steve, didn’t realise it’s so late. Do you want the light on?

No, I’m right. Thanks for coming.

Will we see you at church this week?

Probably, if nothing comes up, he replied, but avoided eye contact.

Steve... she hesitated and then avoided her inclination to berate his attitude.

Don’t stay too long, she growled half seriously, and then her face lit up as she left, You’ll get a pastoral visit if you’re not careful, she quipped. Her exit coincided with her calling out, See you, and then she went, the door slamming behind her.

Steve got up from the desk and paced around the dark office. The streetlights now showed brightly through the window. He hesitated and then bypassed the main light switch, turning on a small light in the kitchenette, considering its light sufficient for his movements. After getting his rather grimy coffee mug off the sink, Steve put in his customary measure of coffee and spoonful of sugar and then added the boiling water and milk. His mind was elsewhere again.

It had all begun with his interest in plant propagation…. He sat down and reran the events in his mind.

*****

Weeks earlier…

It had been a very wet Monday morning. Warm thunderstorm downpours had deteriorated into cold steady rain and Steve was pottering around the flowering pots replacing some of the stock that had been sold that weekend. Jimmy had told him that the warm weekend had brought out lots of customers and they probably needed to order some new stock. He would be able to tell how much after he had processed all the sale items and produced an updated stock list. So they both busied themselves, Steve renewing some of the stock from mature cuttings in the greenhouse and plants from the back storage area, and Jimmy tidying up receipts and the book work for Caz. Sally, who did the majority of the cashier work, dealt with a very occasional customer and tried to look busy behind the counter.

By early afternoon both men had finished their immediate tasks and Jimmy went home as there were no customers, and few were expected with the weather being so bad. Steve told him he’d call in Jodie if things picked up. So Jimmy left, grateful for the extra time added to his rostered two days off.

After getting Sally to begin setting up new displays, Steve went to his computer and started checking out some tissue culture sites. He was keen to read about some of the latest breakthroughs and research and he soon became absorbed in technical data.

Caz came in a little later that day and brought him some lunch before settling down to balancing the sales and cash. His sister had been called Caz for as long as he could remember. It was an affectionate name for Casey. She was always trying to look after him even though she was younger. She knew Steve wouldn’t do anything about lunch and so as a matter of habit would bring in sandwiches or soup. Caz was two years younger than he but, unlike Steve, was very settled. She had a husband and two children, a boy at school, a girl at kindergarten and there was another child on the way.

By the time she was ready to go to the bank Steve was looking at his professional association site and hardly noticed her farewell. He checked out the job advertisements and some further updates on some issues he had been following when he noticed a tender advertisement for the supply of vegetable cell cultures of a range of vegetables. The list coincided with most of the vegetables he had done for the supply of seedlings in the vegetable section of the nursery. Steve smiled wryly at the ‘seedling’ misnomer. Perhaps he should refer to them as plant clones.

The advertisement was accompanied with an email address and Steve spent some time writing his expression of interest and detailing his expertise and ability to meet the stipulated requirements.

Halfway through his cogitations a delivery truck arrived unexpectedly. The distraction took him to the main shed.

Where do you want it?

Just dump it here, was his blunt reply while he waited impatiently, a little annoyed at himself; and then he signed the delivery docket.

Back in the office he was quickly on the phone. Jodie, could you come in and sort out some deliveries? I’m halfway through a tender I want to send off quickly. He waited as Jodie explained that she wouldn’t be long and then asked why Jimmy wasn’t there.

I forgot about the delivery and let him go early, confessed Steve sheepishly.

The afternoon had regressed to cold and showery, and he was still working on the tender when Jodie popped in to tell him of her arrival. She came over to scrutinise the tender, always inquisitive about Steve’s work, when Angela came into the office.

Hi Steve, hi Jodie, Angela greeted lightly.

Hello Angela, what can we do for you? asked Steve, a little too upbeat, which made it sound a trifle false.

Well I was wondering if you have any of those plant hole-diggers we could borrow. We’re planting a whole lot of natives next weekend.

Sure, replied Steve, refraining from saying something politically incorrect about planting ‘natives’ and continued with a hint of a grin, Jodie, will you get that for Angela? And as an afterthought he added, And you can keep it. I never did get around to giving you two a wedding present.

Oh, thank you Steve, smiled Angela and Steve felt himself getting uncomfortable.

This way Ange, said Jodie as she ushered her out the door.

Between trying to make notes about the tender and ruminating about whether his affection for Angela had ever been more than friendship, or appreciating her quiet caring nature and her obvious attractiveness, Steve doodled a fanciful flowchart regarding possible directions for his life. He was just at a point where a number of branches were appearing: a) go back to uni and do research and do his doctorate, b) Take up offers from his professor to lecture at the university, c) Sell the business and work for a big agri-corporation, d) Status quo...

For ‘e)’ he had put two question marks when he ran out of ideas and then quirkily wrote ‘None of the above.’ He smiled and chewed the end of the pencil before returning to more concrete tasks.

About an hour later a weary, dishevelled Jodie came back. Her face was grimy, her overalls dusty and her dark hair lank from the intermittent rain. Her mood seemed slightly testy as she detailed what she had done with the supplies.

I’ve put most of the bags and bottles in the equipment shed. I wouldn’t try the storage shed, it’s a mess. I brought some of the pesticides into the shop since we’re just about out. Steve looked up and then suddenly felt guilty as he realised that he’d left Jodie to do all the work, and he considered what heavy lifting was needed to shift the delivery.

Oh, Gee, I’m sorry Jodie; I shouldn’t have left you with all that lifting. Jimmy can stack the shop later. A little mollified Jodie softened her gaze.

You look distracted. You’re not still thinking of Angela are you?

His head jerked up, What do you mean? … no, no of course not. I’m involved in this tender. It sounded a little unconvincing, even to him.

She then gave Steve a short lecture about forgetting about Angela and getting on with his life, as only a good friend could. Jodie left rolling her eyes at Steve’s protestations.

We were only ever just friends. I mean, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. She’s just a friend. There was no-one there to hear his final feeble comments.

Steve put his head down and addressed the requirements of the contract submission before him.

Late that day the tender was finished. He paused a minute at the thought of what Jodie had said. Something about not just marking time but making his life more meaningful, or perhaps more purposeful would be more accurate. ‘I guess I have felt sorry for myself,’ he thought. ‘Too much business and no social life, but I can change that,’ he contended, and then considered the incongruity of contemplating recreation as he sent the email in an effort to get more business.

Chapter 2

The Contract

The following week was reasonably busy and Steve only occasionally checked his email for a reply to his submission. On Thursday the weather was unseasonably warm and Steve found himself in the office with a can of soft drink discussing the placement of a new greenhouse with Jimmy.

If we build behind the potting shed there’s enough room for another medium size, climate control shed.

What do we do with all the stuff? asked Jimmy.

What stuff? said Steve draining his can.

Jimmy paused and lobbed his empty can into the small bin. Three points! he exulted with both arms raised and then continued as if transported back to reality. There are a whole lot of old pallets, fertilizer bags and pots back there. Haven’t you seen all that junk?

Oh, right, said Steve as he remembered his habit of hiding stuff behind the shed thinking it may come in useful one day. Order a dumpster and we’ll get it carted away.

I don’t believe it.

What?

That you’re finally going to clean that junk up.

Steve stopped briefly, then with mock seriousness, This is the new decisive me. I’m purposeful, I’ve got direction.

Jimmy ignored Steve’s over dramatised claims, as he frequently did, so as not to encourage him. You want me to do that now, or shall I stack it up first?

No, order the dumpster now and we’ll load as we clean. It’ll save time putting the stuff straight in.

Jimmy was just about to pick up the phone when it rang. He made a wide-eyed face, Whoa that’s spooky, he uttered using a gravel voice, trying to be humorous. Then picked up the phone and answered in the same raspy vein before correcting himself. Sunset Nursery…er um sorry… Sunset Nursery, Jimmy speaking. He listened for a few seconds and then held out the phone.

It’s for you. I’ll make that call later. And he left Steve to answer the phone.

Steven James?

Yes, what can I do for you?

Well Steven, we like your tender for vegetable cultures and I thought I’d contact you and sort a few things out.

Well that’s great, said Steve enthusiastically, feeling pleased with himself. Why don’t you just email me the details and then I can give you a firm quote.

I’d rather talk to you personally if you don’t mind.

No, not at all, er when would you like to come around? Steve gave a concerned glance around at the messy office wondering how much time he’d have to clean up.

Isn’t there a coffee shop not far from there?

Um there’s one about half a k up the road called ‘Inn for Coffee’ and there’s another one about 2 k up the road.

No, the first one... ‘Inn for Coffee’ …why don’t we meet there tomorrow at, say, eleven a.m. and we’ll talk over a coffee.

Okay, that sounds like a great idea, said Steve, feeling relieved at not having to worry about cleaning up. Then suddenly, clarifying his thoughts, he blurted, Wait! What’s your name? How will I know you?

My name’s Paul. I’ll be wearing a… he paused momentarily, a green tie. Click. He’d hung up.

He called Jodie. Her cheery voice responded to his call and she said she was happy to come in on Friday.

Jodie explained that her Biology degree in plant genetics was almost complete, so she would be available for a bit more work in the short term.

I’m just proofing my final paper. It will be good to get it finished and handed in.

Steve was sure they would miss her invaluable contributions to the propagation side of the business when she left for more rewarding returns and said as much.

I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone, he offered and then thought to himself, ‘It was just as well that she was winding up her university studies for the year, since he was committed to his meeting with Paul, and he didn’t always want to fall back on Jimmy. After a short silence Jodie replied with a questioning inflection, When I’m gone?

Well, I guess you’ll want a real job once you’re qualified.

Oh... yes, was the uncertain response. Steve felt he was saying something wrong but proceeded, hoping to explain himself.

I mean, I couldn’t afford to pay you what you’re worth.

I understand. I’ll see you Friday.

Steve heard the connection close. I think I missed something there, he mused barely audibly.

*****

Energising rays of deliciously warming, morning sunshine streamed through the window of the office and heated his back. It was Friday, and Steve was mulling over his somewhat clandestine rendezvous. He had the same silly grin on his face that he got when his mind was entertaining the implausible or ridiculous. It was then Jodie came in dressed casually in jeans, white sneakers and black tee-shirt.

Jodie Brandon was twenty-six and an extremely attractive girl with long dark hair and dancing bright blue eyes. She had been a friend of his family for a long time and Steve treated her as his little sister. Many times in his younger days their two families would spend Sunday afternoons together. Jodie had always been friends with Caz and, in the past, her sister Jamie would mostly follow them both around. As they got older the five children—John, Steve, Caz, Jodie and Jamie—would amuse themselves as the adults talked. In their teenage years it became more about the church youth group and Steve had gravitated towards Angela. Jodie had taken on some leadership responsibilities and thereafter, to his mind, she had faded into the background.

Since she had started working with him he had admired the way she encouraged Jimmy to visit their church, but he sometimes resented her half serious scolding when work had intruded on his Sundays. The fact that she was much pursued by hopeful suitors completely escaped his attention. In truth, he hadn’t really noticed that she’d grown up; which says something about the distractions he’d had over the previous years. There was his preoccupation with his studies, his unrequited affection for Angela