Recursion Protocol

Chapter 5: Shelter

The helicopter descended toward what appeared to be an abandoned industrial complex forty kilometers south of Cambridge. Hayes pressed his face to the window, studying the facility below. Rusted warehouses.

Overgrown access roads. Scattered shipping containers.

"What you're seeing is intentional," Hartford's voice crackled through the headset. "The facility was decommissioned in 1987, at least officially. We've maintained the appearance to discourage curiosity."

The helicopter touched down on cracked concrete between two warehouses. As the rotors wound down, Hayes spotted the tells: pristine landing lights embedded in the concrete, fresh safety markings, cameras disguised as rusted equipment.

"Dr. Hayes." A woman emerged from the nearest warehouse. "Dr. Zara Blake, Cambridge Institute for Advanced Studies. We've been following your Siberian excavation with considerable interest."

Hayes climbed down with his equipment cases. "Following how? My research hasn't been published."

"Satellite imagery. When you applied for excavation permits through the Russian Academy of Sciences, certain keywords triggered our protocols." Blake gestured toward the facility. "Specifically, 'anomalous organic preservation' and 'stratified chronological inconsistencies.'"

Hartford joined them, helping unload Hayes's specimens. "Dr. Blake specializes in temporal archaeology—an alyzing artifacts that don't fit established timelines."

"Temporal archaeology isn't a real field," Hayes protested.

"It is now," Blake replied. "Come inside. There's something you need to see."

The warehouse door looked like rusted sheet metal, but opened with a sophisticated electronic lock. Inside,

Hayes found himself in a state-of-the-art laboratory that would have been impressive at any major university. Clean rooms, electron microscopes, carbon dating equipment, and banks of computers processing vast amounts of data.

"This is our comparative analysis center," Hartford explained. "We've been collecting temporal anomalies for fifteen years."

Blake led them to a wall-mounted display showing a world map dotted with red markers. "Each marker represents a discovery that challenges conventional archaeological timelines. Anatomically modern human remains that predate accepted human evolution. Advanced tools appearing simultaneously in locations that had no contact with each other. Genetic material that doesn't follow expected mutation patterns."

Hayes felt his pulse quicken.

"Twenty-three researchers," Blake said. "Anthropologists, geneticists, geologists. Most work independently, unaware of the larger pattern."

"What larger pattern?"

Hartford activated another display. "Dr. Hayes, show us one of your Siberian specimens."

Hayes hesitated, then opened his equipment case and withdrew a carefully wrapped skull fragment. "Remark able preservation. The cellular structure suggests extreme cold storage, but the bone density indicates recent death."

Blake and Hartford exchanged glances.

"Show him the Madagascar specimens," Hartford said quietly.

Blake disappeared and returned with another case. Femur bone, clearly ancient, but perfectly preserved. "Dis covered in 2018 by Dr. Eugene Voss. Southeastern Madagascar, in volcanic tuff layers radiocarbon dated to 1.8 million years ago."

Hayes examined the bone. The preservation was identical to his Siberian specimens. The bone structure was unmistakably modern human.

"The genetic analysis?" he asked, though he suspected the answer.

"Identical to contemporary human populations," Blake confirmed. "Dr. Voss spent five years trying to publish his findings. He disappeared in 2023."

"Disappeared?"

"Literally. His research materials were confiscated by persons unknown."

Hayes felt cold despite the warehouse's efficient heating. "How many other researchers have disappeared?"

"Twelve confirmed," Hartford said.

Blake opened her laptop. "Dr. Hayes, your Siberian site is unique not because of what you found, but because of how much you found. Most of these discoveries are isolated specimens. Your site suggests an entire settlement."

"It means," Hartford said carefully, "that you may have discovered evidence of a civilization that existed millions of years before mainstream archaeology says human civilization was possible."

Hayes stared at the laptop screen. Names, locations, dates, all documenting impossible discoveries.

Hartford's phone buzzed. "Dr. Hayes, how long do you think it will take Russian authorities to notice you've abandoned your excavation site?"

"I filed a temporary suspension notice. I have three days before anyone gets concerned."

Blake said grimly. "Dr. Hayes, your specimens represent the largest cache of temporal anomaly evidence ever discovered. If they're confiscated or destroyed..."

Hayes stared at the map of impossible discoveries.

"Dr. Hayes. Whatever you do, don't contact anyone from your previous academic affiliations. Don't use your university email, don't call former colleagues, don't access any research databases you used before."

Hartford's phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, and his expression darkened. "Russian authorities arrived at your site. They're not alone."

He showed Hayes the screen—satellite images of military vehicles surrounding the excavation. "Dr. Hayes, whoever wants this evidence destroyed has resources we didn't anticipate."

Blake'sradio crackled to life. "Base, wehave movement on the perimeter. Three vehicles, military configuration."She looked at Hayes. "Dr. Hayes, Ihope you're as good at running as you are at digging."