Bernard Frankenheimer Center Series Read online

  Bernard Frankenheimer Center Series

  Troy Hunter

  Bernard Frankenheimer Center Series

  Troy Hunter

  Published by Books Unite People LLC, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 by Troy Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Editing by: Jo Bird & Sandra S.

  Beta Reading by: Stefanie Molina.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Shrunken

  1. Charlie

  2. Russell

  3. Charlie

  4. Russell

  5. Charlie

  6. Russell

  7. Charlie

  8. Russell

  9. Charlie

  10. Russell

  11. Charlie

  12. Russell

  13. Charlie

  14. Russell

  15. Charlie

  16. Russell

  17. Charlie

  18. Russell

  19. Charlie

  20. Russell

  21. Charlie

  22. Russell

  23. Charlie

  24. Russell

  25. Charlie

  26. Russell

  27. Charlie

  28. Russell

  29. Charlie

  30. Russell

  31. Charlie

  32. Russell

  33. Charlie

  Epilogue

  How To Flirt

  Prologue – A Memory

  1. Dale

  2. Cliff

  3. Dale

  4. Cliff

  5. Dale

  6. Cliff

  7. Cliff

  8. Dale

  9. Dale

  10. Cliff

  11. Dale

  12. Cliff

  13. Dale

  14. Cliff

  15. Dale

  16. Cliff

  17. Dale

  18. Cliff

  19. Dale

  20. Dale

  21. Cliff

  22. Dale

  23. Cliff

  24. Dale

  25. Cliff

  26. Dale

  27. Cliff

  28. Dale

  29. Cliff

  Epilogue – Dale

  Loving AIDAn

  Preface

  1. Jeffrey

  2. AIDAn

  3. Jeffrey

  4. AIDAn

  5. Jeffrey

  6. AIDAn

  7. Jeffrey

  8. AIDAn

  9. Jeffrey

  10. AIDAn

  11. Jeffrey

  12. AIDAn

  13. Jeffrey

  14. AIDAn

  15. Jeffrey

  16. AIDAn

  17. Jeffrey

  18. AIDAn

  19. Jeffrey

  20. AIDAn

  21. Jeffrey

  22. AIDAn

  23. Jeffrey

  24. AIDAn

  25. Jeffrey

  26. AIDAn

  27. Jeffrey

  28. AIDAn

  29. Jeffrey

  30. AIDAn

  31. Jeffrey

  32. AIDAn

  33. Jeffrey

  34. AIDAn

  35. Jeffrey

  36. AIDAn

  37. Jeffrey

  38. AIDAn

  39. Jeffrey

  40. AIDAn

  Coda

  About the Author

  Shrunken

  Bernard Frankenheimer Center Book 1

  1

  Charlie

  Six Months Ago

  Bright sunlight filters through the half-closed blinds of my lab, casting horizontal shadows across my equipment. I impatiently tap the iPad in my hands with the stylus. Sixty seconds left according to my controls. A reminder to eat pops up on my iPad; I ignore it. At thirty seconds, I head to the microscope, excitement building in my belly. I set the iPad aside and bend over the microscope, pressing my eye to the lens.

  Expertly, I adjust the lens until the bacteria come into view. The cylindrical single-celled organisms wiggle lethargically beside the star-shaped orbs of my bacteria-fighting technology, Semi-Synthetic Amenopeben, or SSA. As I watch, the SSA slowly make their way to the closest strings of Streptococcus. I hold my breath as the short appendages scattered across the SSA surface elongate and latch themselves onto the bacteria. Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty. I watch, enraptured, as the Streptococcus trembles violently before shrinking in size, until the SSA has completely engulfed it.

  “Yes!” I exclaim, pulling away from the microscope to pump my fist in the air. “Oh my God, it worked!”

  I duck back to the microscope just in time to see the last miniscule string of bacteria disappear completely. The only thing left in my microscope is the SSA, drifting slowly across my field of vision. Quickly, I open my iPad and jot down a few notes and the result of the experiment.

  After 225 trials using fifteen strains of Streptococcus, SSA has successfully fought each strain of bacteria. SSA fully eliminates every strain in an average of twenty minutes. Trials show extremely promising results.

  There’s a sharp rap at the door and Sarah, my secretary, pops her head in.

  “Dr. Fawn?” she says, her soft-toned voice pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Yes?” I ask, my eyes still fixed on my screen.

  “You asked me to order you some food if you hadn’t eaten by two o’clock. I’ve got China Moon on the line. Is your usual okay?”

  “Sure, sure,” I answer absentmindedly, setting the iPad aside and heading back to the microscope.

  The door clicks softly shut as Sarah returns to the phone. I adjust the lens once more and then take several careful pictures of my final test. I sync the photos from the microscope to my iPad and add them to my research folder.

  I stand back proudly, eyeing the vials of SSA through the clear door of my fridge. SSA will change the world of medicine and health completely. Finally, years of struggling to fight antibiotic-resistant strains of bacteria will be over. SSA’s proven ability to fight against so many different strains, and even better, evolved and resistant strains, will be revolutionary.

  And it’s going in my paper. My discovery.

  SSA will be free to the world; no patents, no profits, just improved health for all. After publication, I plan on riding out the aftermath of my new celebrity by hiding out in my lab, working on a new project. The department head, Dr. Taylor Slickberg, has almost all the departments working on various aspects of human attraction, but I had the freedom to continue my work. Now that it’s almost complete, I’m sure I’ll be reassigned. And although I don’t consider the study of human attraction to be as important as SSA, it will at least be interesting. Anything to keep me focused on work.

  I should tell Dr. Slickberg of my success. Excited and confident, I pull out my phone and page him. He pages back, he’ll be down in a minute. Sighing, I finally raise my head to survey the lab. My eyes have been glued to the microscope, my iPad, or the computer for the last three months since my trials began in earnest. It’s a mess. Sheets of test results and notes are scattered across every surface, post-it-notes of reminders stick to my test tubes, my cupboards, and on the sides of my computer screen. The trash is overflowing with scraps of paper and discarded take-out containers. My eyes drift to the cot pushed into the corner. The blankets are disheveled, random pieces of clothing s
tuffed under the pillows.

  This lab has been my home for weeks, I sleep here the majority of nights, too absorbed in my work to go back to my apartment. I should clean before Dr. Slickberg arrives. I grimace. Hurriedly, I stuff loose papers into folders and pile them beside the computer until most of the stainless-steel countertops are visible. That’ll have to do, I think grimly, staring at the space.

  Suddenly, the door opens and Dr. Slickberg saunters through. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, looking critically at my workspace. “I see you’ve been doing some light cleaning.” He gives me a tight grin. “You didn’t need to clean up just for me.”

  Of course, he’d assume I care what he thinks of my workspace. Then again, that’s exactly why I cleaned.

  “Err,” I stammer, unsure how to respond. Dr. Slickberg has a way of unnerving me. The joke throughout the center is that his ego is the size of the building but as fragile as a petri dish. He has a strange habit of forcing his intellect on others and even his most brilliant scientists are no stranger to his intimidation tactics. “Thank you for coming down,” I finally say, forcing myself to smile.

  “Of course. I’m always happy to check in on the most promising member of this department,” he replies, his gaze lingering on the test tubes. “So, what is it you wanted to show me?”

  The false flattery oozing from his words sets me on edge but I can’t deny that I’m eager to show him my work. And not simply because Slickberg is working on a very similar project and every scientist enjoys trumping Slickberg in virtually any subject. His success in so many fields makes this victory a little bit sweeter. SSA will truly change the world.

  Excitement fills me, forcing out any trepidation I had about Dr. Slickberg. I grin and wave him over to the computer. I plop onto the small stool in front of the desk and type in a few commands; a video file pops up onto the monitor. It’s a recording of my last test. I play it from the beginning. “As you can see, the sample is infected with Streptococcus.” I fast forward a little. “Here I’m inserting the SSA into the bacteria.”

  On screen, a thin needle enters the frame, poking the bacteria to one side. A stream of SSA pours out and the needle disappears from the frame.

  Dr. Slickberg watches in silence as I skip through the twenty minutes it takes for the SSA to activate. As he watches the SSA latch onto the Streptococcus and destroy the bacteria while he makes an approving noise in the back of his throat.

  “It takes twenty minutes for the synthesis to destroy the bacteria, any strain, resistant or not, once it’s activated,” I say excitedly, pointing to the SSA in the video.

  “Excellent work, Dr. Fawn,” he drawls, rising from his stooped position. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

  I stand eagerly, a broad grin on my face. Again, he gives me a strained smile, though his eyes are as cold as ice. “No, doctor. I know you’re working on a similar project, I’m looking forward to seeing your results,” I say carefully, knowing it may be a sensitive subject.

  But to hell with his study, I’ve done what he couldn’t, and in half the time.

  “Of course.” Another smile. “Congratulations are in order. You’ve just changed the world of medicine, Dr. Fawn.” He extends a hand to me.

  Proudly, I reach for his hand, ready to bask in the glow of Dr. Slickberg’s respect. He’s a jack of all trades in the fields of scientific research and development. I may not like him, but there’s no doubt he’s one of the most accomplished scientists in the country. Suddenly, there’s a flash of shining silver. My gaze drops to it instinctively but it takes me a moment to truly comprehend what I see.

  It’s a gun, of course it’s a gun. I recognize it easily. But my mind takes agonizingly slow seconds to comprehend what the gun is doing in Dr. Slickberg’s hands, and worse, what his finger is doing on the trigger.

  I freeze, hand held stiffly in front of my torso, still extended for that congratulatory handshake. My eyes dart to his cold, unforgiving gaze. “You’re one of my best and brightest, Charlie,” Dr. Slickberg sighs. “I should have predicted you’d get your results quickly, you’re obsessed with your work. I mean, look at this mess.” He waves a hand lazily over the room.

  “I don’t understand,” I manage to say, ignoring his insults to my lab.

  He laughs, short and without humor. “We’ve got the same project, Charlie. I can’t have you publishing first, not now I’ve spent so much time on this research. That would be such a waste.” He gestures with his free hand to the vials of SSA in the fridge. “But with your research, my own should speed up quite a bit.”

  “But it’s mine. I won’t let you get away with this,” I say angrily, teeth clenched.

  “Hello,” he says, waving the gun in my face. “You don’t have a choice.”

  He’s isn’t bluffing. He’s going to kill me, I realize as I stare into his empty, soulless eyes. My gaze darts around the lab, looking for anything nearby I can use as a weapon to defend myself. But he’s got me at point-blank range. I move, he shoots, and I’m dead. I’m dead if I don’t move. Maybe he expects me to bargain, to willingly hand over my research. Like hell, I think furiously.

  I put my heart and soul into SSA, god knows what Slickberg will charge for the technology.

  “Goodbye, Dr. Fawn,” he says mockingly.

  I clench my eyes shut. But instead of the expected bang of the gun, the air hums loudly, like the sound of machinery. My body is flushed with warmth but there’s no pain. And I’m not dead.

  Hesitantly, I open one eye. Dr. Slickberg towers above me, grinning cruelly, his head is the size of the moon. I blink, entirely confused. He leans against the table, leering down at me as my mind whirls with confusion. The leg of the table is as thick as my body, and at least ten times as tall.

  “What do you think?” Dr. Slickberg asks jovially from high above. His voice sounds slow, thick. “It’s one of my newest inventions.”

  “What the hell is this?” I shout, panic lacing my voice, forcing it higher, squeaky.

  “Oh, what’s that?” He cups a hand around his ear. “I’m afraid I can’t hear you, you speak at a frequency I can’t catch now, courtesy of my shrink gun.”

  “Shrink gun?” I yell. What the hell is happening? This is the stuff of a science fiction novel, not my life.

  “I’ve been thinking, what’s the best way to get away with murder?”

  Oh God.

  “Guns are traceable, loud, and so messy. Wouldn’t it just be best if you simply disappeared?” he asks rhetorically.

  I gulp, taking a few steps back, though it hasn’t brought me any farther from him. I want to shout curses at him until my face turns red, but I know he won’t hear me. A pointless waste of energy.

  “What’s the best way to get rid of a body?” He lifts a foot, the huge sole of his leather Italian shoes rearing over me. “Make it too small to find.” He grins and starts bringing his foot down.

  I can’t help the cry of fear that escapes from my lips as I scramble away, sprinting as fast as I can. But my steps are too small to make my escape effective and the shoe is descending. Fast.

  Suddenly, the door swings open, the rush of air from its vacuum blows me backwards, underneath my computer desk. I tumble through the air, landing heavily on my ass, the breath knocked out of me. Sarah enters, a bag labeled China Moon in her hand. Dr. Slickberg lowers his foot immediately, falling into a casual stance. His face loses the maniacal malice and becomes bored.

  “Oh, Dr. Slickberg, how are you?” she asks politely, setting the bag of takeout on the countertop.

  “Just fine, Sarah.” He smiles warmly at her.

  “Have you seen Dr. Fawn? I just stepped out for a moment to pick up his delivery,” Sarah asks, looking curiously around the lab.

  I shout for her attention, jumping up and down and waving my arms high over my lanky body. But she isn’t looking at the floor and she doesn’t notice me.

  “He’ll be back any minute, said something about needing to use
the restroom,” Dr. Slickberg says, nodding at her.

  “Oh, alright then.” Sarah heads to the door. “Good to see you, doctor.”

  Dr. Slickberg inclines his head at her. As Sarah disappears through the door I sprint toward the wall, sticking beneath my desk where it’ll be more difficult to reach me. I’m not stupid enough to think he won’t resume his attack once Sarah has left. The door clicks shut and Dr. Slickberg’s demeanor changes instantly. He growls in frustration and drops to his knees on the linoleum, staring intently under the desk. He sees me but I don’t stop running. The wall is close, but I can sense Dr. Slickberg’s movements behind me as he swipes for me. I dodge him, leaping to the side just as his fingers graze the spot where I’d just been. With every grab he makes for me, I feel the rush of air against my back, tossing my lab coat to the side.