The New Reality Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Map of the Middle East and Northern Africa

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  About the Author

  Title Page

  The New

  Reality

  AN ALEX PELLA NOVEL

  Stephen Martino

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2014, by Stephen Martino

  The New Reality

  Stephen Martino

  smartino.lightmessages.com

  [email protected]

  Published 2014, by Light Messages

  www.lightmessages.com

  Durham, NC 27713

  Printed in the United States of America

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-61153-074-2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61153-075-9

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without the prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events appearing in this work are fictitious.

  Dedication

  To Pauline Vilain who believed in my work

  but returned home before its publication

  Acknowledgments

  The Dalai Lama said that when you practice gratefulness, there is a sense of respect toward others. And thus my greatest respect goes to my wife for being my greatest partner in life and to my parents who taught me that the love of family, God and country are the three essential pillars to a successful life. Also, my utmost respect goes to Dr. Joseph Albanese and to Karen Nugent who, among others, were there for me when I needed them the most. I would like to give special thanks to Drew Sheinen who helped take my manuscript and create a readable novel. Lastly, I would like to especially thank Elizabeth Turnbull of Light Messages Publishing for believing in my work, editing it, and helping to bring it to publication.

  “When government wishes to do the work of God,

  it becomes not divine but demonic.”

  Pope Benedict XVI

  Map of the Middle East and Northern Africa

  Prologue

  August 10, 2080

  The dim light could not hide the surreptitious events occurring in the confines of a forgotten surgical room. Some would call it treasonous or state how it’s an abomination to God. Still others might tout it as revolutionary. However, each surgeon knew their actions contradicted all ethical boundaries. While their surgical masks hid the faces of their shame, their eyes revealed what their souls were feeling.

  “I thought we were going to stop at the tenth patient,” hesitantly commented the curly redheaded physician.

  No one responded.

  It was what all four were thinking but were too afraid to state aloud.

  Sweat began to drip down her fair-skinned face. Her brow glistened with mounting perspiration. Though a lone fan in the room helped cool down this underground facility, it was insufficient to douse her burning shame.

  What was once promised to be the greatest medical experiment of their careers had turned into their greatest nightmare. After their first ten patients died within months of the procedure, all thought the project would be terminated. It hadn’t been.

  Failure only meant more experiments. More experiments only meant more deaths. With this patient marking the fiftieth, they knew something finally had to be done.

  Another one of the surgeons looked up after what seemed like an eternity to all those in the room. His furrowed brow and glaring dark brown eyes had more to say than any words.

  After authoritatively clearing his throat, he distinctly stated through the surgical mask, “We all knew what we were in for at the inception of this project.”

  Without moving his head, he eyed each of his colleagues in a firm manner. “This is not a matter open for discussion nor is this the proper forum for debate.” The gray-haired man should have dismissed his fellow redheaded surgeon right there without another word. All expected him to do so but he, too, experienced the same disgrace as the others. As the lead investigator of the project, he felt even more responsible than the other three.

  “Dr. Christakos—,” she began to say before being interrupted.

  “Begin the infusion,” he stated matter-of-factly, expecting to curtail all further commentary.

  The patient lay flat on his stomach atop the surgical table. Though entirely draped in green linen, his back was uncovered and washed in a black solution. Eight small syringes protruded in a line along his bony spine. The orange-tinged fluid in each of the syringes had an eerie glow, making the surgical site reminiscent of a Halloween landscape.

  Under the physician’s guidance, each syringe emptied one by one into the patient’s spine. Though only one of the surgeons administered the solution, all felt just as responsible. Accompanying her accumulating beads of sweat, tears ran down the redhead’s cheeks.

  The small room suddenly became claustrophobic. Dr. Christakos knew that he had most likely just condemned another innocent man from this island to a painful death. His breathing became more rapid while his pulse accelerated. Though blood was rapidly being pumped throughout his body, the doctor became cold and clammy.

  The whitewashed stone walls of this underground room began to suffocate him. The scant light from the ceiling fixture suddenly became unbearably hot.

  This is insane! Doctor Thompson is right. What are we doing? This experiment was supposed to help mankind, not destroy it!

  Unable to stand any longer without passing out, he turned and abruptly marched over to the only door in the room. Unable to look his colleagues in the eye once again, Dr. Christakos simply told them to finish without him. The iron door swung open, leaving the final three surgeons to complete their assignment.

  Outside the operating room was not much more aesthetically pleasing. Albeit better lit, the same whitewashed stone walls accompanied him down a long and dreary hallway. An old-fashioned elevator stood at the end of it. Though the year was 2080, this antique piece of equipment dated back to World War II. With a single rusty metal door waist-high in height, its squeaky hinges welcomed the doctor as he entered.

  Ascending the shaft, Dr. Christakos recalled the history of
this bunker, contemplating how its use had changed but its clandestine purpose remained the same.

  During World War II, the British constructed many of these bunkers throughout the island. Astipalea, along with its sister Greek islands along the southeastern Aegean Sea, was once the site of a forgotten battle during the waning years of the war. After the surrender of the occupying Italian forces, the Germans quickly seized most of the Greek islands, denying the Allies both ports and airfields for operation. Under the command of Major General Brittorous, the British countered the Nazi’s aggression by fortifying their own islands in the Aegean Sea.

  Astipalea had bunkers constructed both for ammunition storage and bomb shelters. Some of these, like the one Dr. Christakos was exiting, were transformed into makeshift hospital wings for the intended military and civilian casualties.

  Though German forces led by General Müller defeated the British, many of the defensive fortifications could still be found throughout numerous islands. Most were abandoned, but some still proved functional many decades after the war.

  Dr. Christakos squinted as his eyes were flooded with the light of a bright midday sun. No longer feeling trapped in his previous cryptal environment, he exited the decrepit elevator and entered his office. With its numerous windows and wide-opened space, the room abated his previously suffocating claustrophobia.

  The doctor took off his mask and surgical cap and let loose a long sigh of relief. Time to see my morning patients.

  Immediately upon entering the hospital wing, Dr. Christakos was accosted by numerous nursing staff members and his personal assistant, Henry.

  “Punctual as usual, sir,” Henry quickly greeted with a Pilipino accent. “This is going to be a busy day.”

  Before Dr. Christakos could collect his thoughts, his assistant promptly escorted him to the first patient. Inside the glassed-off room a man was covered in blood-soaked bandages and lay motionless upon his sterile bed. The unbandaged skin appeared red and festering as if burned by a sun a thousand times brighter than our own. In excruciating pain, the sickly patient mumbled incomprehensibly to himself.

  On the glass wall isolating the hospital room a three-dimensional representation of the man appeared. Most of his skin was red and transparent while the organs underneath were well visualized. Around this holographic figure were different illustrations of separate organs with numbers underneath representing the various bodily functions.

  Dr. Christakos tapped a few spots on the glass. Four robotic arms appeared from underneath the man’s bed and began changing his bandages. A swooshing sound emanated from the holograph, informing the doctor that the morning medications had just been administered.

  “Mr. Milonas just arrived yesterday,” Henry said as the doctor continued to work, “and his condition continues to worsen just like the rest. Despite all that we have…”

  Henry continued to talk rapidly. His accent was so thick at times that his English became almost unrecognizable. By now, Dr. Christakos had stopped paying attention. He knew the scenario and it was the same for all the patients placed in this clinical trial: rapid breakdown of the muscle, which was followed in quick succession by internal organ failure, rashes, terminating in encephalopathy where in essence the brain shuts down.

  Though Dr. Christakos repeatedly warned the sponsor of the trial about its dire results, he was reluctantly forced to continue. The ends justify the means, he was told.

  Only Dr. Christakos and his three surgical colleagues knew about the clinical trial. The rest of the hospital and people on the island were oblivious to the truth.

  “And the sad thing is,” Henry went on to say, “his brother just passed away two weeks ago with the same thing and his sister is in the next room with an identical illness.”

  Dr. Christakos took his hand immediately off the glass and grabbed Henry’s shoulder. “What? What was that about his brother and sister?” he frantically sputtered.

  Startled, Henry relayed the same information, albeit a little slower and in a more enunciated manner.

  Dr. Christakos quickly rushed over to the next room where the man’s sister was located. Pulling up her schematics on the glass, he rapidly analyzed all the information.

  Exactly the same. The two of them have exactly the same thing! This cannot be. Only the younger brother who died two weeks ago was part of the experiment! This is impossible!

  Dr. Christakos knew his other patients involved in the experiment died as a direct result of his work. However, these two were definitely not participants and bore no marks of the procedure. It defied all medical knowledge. He and his medical team were not administering infectious agents in this trial.

  Though perplexed, the doctor knew there could be only one solution.

  “Sound the island’s siren, and have every one of the island’s 1,081 inhabitants here in the hospital auditorium for an emergency meeting in four hours.” He pointed at Henry and shook his head as he continued, “Call in all the fishing ships. I want everyone accounted for before this emergency meeting begins!”

  •••

  Never had four hours passed so quickly. It felt like only a minute ago when he had given Henry his orders, and now Dr. Christakos stood on a small platform in front of over a thousand scared people. He wished he had more time to determine what had afflicted the Milonas family. He wished he had more time to correct the problems with his clinical trial.

  Right now, above all else, he simply wished he had time to say goodbye to his loved ones.

  Dr. Christakos turned back and looked apologetically at his three surgical colleagues. It was at this moment that he noticed the natural beauty of the redhead. With glowing green eyes, long curly hair, and an attractive, petite figure, she was like an ancient Greek siren of the sea calling out for him. All the time he was here on the island he was too busy with his work to appreciate anything else, and now it was too late.

  Dr. Christakos cleared his throat and almost instantly the frantic chatter around him abated.

  Knowing that everyone on the island had been accounted for, he took a deep breath and began to speak, “Thank you all for your quick response.”

  He could barely talk over the growing lump in his throat. As time grew ever closer to 4:00 P.M. he wanted to say something to the people in front of him. Some were scientists or medical staff working at the hospital while others were native to the island and made their livelihood fishing in the sea. No matter who they were, they were all in the same place now.

  Whether to say something uplifting or just tell the truth was the largest quagmire. Did these people need to know what he and his colleagues had been doing or was naiveté the most appropriate option? With his mind inundated with both guilt and sorrow, the doctor made up his mind on how to proceed.

  “I have great news for everyone here!” he began with a forced smile.

  3:59:45 P.M.

  “Something fantastic has happened.”

  3:59:50 P.M.

  The crowd was at the edge of their seats, grinning with great expectation.

  “Today is the day we all leave behind our mundane lives.”

  3:59:55 P.M.

  “And start a great new beginning!”

  The end justifies the means.

  4:00:00 P.M.

  BOOM! The entire 37 square-mile island of Astipalea and all its inhabitants were instantly vaporized. The explosion lit up the sky and sent tidal waves to its neighboring islands along with both mainland Greece and Turkey. So great was the explosion, it could be seen and felt from hundreds of miles away.

  Known only to Dr. Christakos, there were more than just old military supplies hidden in the island’s underground bunkers. Stashed away long ago, an incendiary arsenal of weapons had been written off by the Greek military as properly disposed of. And disposed of is what the doctor hoped to accomplish with his final act.

  Chapter 1

  July 15, 2081

  “Off to work again?” Suzan asked, both half-kidding and annoyed.
/>   Her husband seemed oblivious to the question. Because he labored three weeks of double shifts and returned home from work only four hours prior, she thought he was going to at least have the rest of the this day off. Clearly that was not the case. With so many of his coworkers getting sick, it left only a handful of dedicated employees to man the local factory.

  “They’re working you straight into the grave,” Suzan added. “They only care about money and not their employees. I don’t know why you let them do this to you. Look at you.” She pointed the dishtowel towards him. “You are an old man and your body can’t do this anymore.”

  She was right. Berk was going to be 65 next month and his youthful veracity had been quickly dwindling over the past few years. As arthritis in his back and neck set in, he could do less physical activity, causing him to gain weight. No longer a strapping young man, he had acquired a large gut and two extra chins in the process. Berk’s jet-black hair had also grayed precipitously since putting in all these extra hours at work.

  “You worry too much,” he cajoled with a cherub-like grin.

  In fact, Berk had been the one doing most of the worrying. He was concerned not only for himself but also for his friends and family in this small town of Yakakoy. Located in western Turkey just off the Aegean Sea, the town’s sole means of sustenance was its local factory. With fewer healthy employees remaining, it left only a handful of people to keep the business alive.

  “If I didn’t do the worrying, who would?” Suzan scoffed, while washing the pots in the sink.

  Suzan was a sturdy woman, full of life. Accustomed to the hard work of living on a farm as a child, she had grown strong both physically and mentally. Though fifty years of age, she still retained her youthful glow and joked about marrying such an old man. She always responded that he was young when she married him, and now look what happened.

  Berk tried to leave without his wife noticing, but she held out her cheek, expecting a kiss before his departure.

  “I have to be at the factory,” he curtly responded, while attempting to open the door.

  “Oh, no honey. You’re not leaving until you give your wife her proper goodbye.”