Chapter 61: Of Course They’re Drinking Shiner!

From the man-made lake behind the imposing home, the sounds of the raucous party were easy to hear even before exiting the minivan.

“I guess we came to the right place,” Tim snickered. George smiled and motioned for help retrieving their purchases as well as the overnight bags from the rear hatch.

“Welcome, friends, welcome!” Jose, Uncle Justin’s right-hand man, approached the two, who looked shocked to see the man they had just left a few minutes earlier.

“Hang on. You didn’t pass us. How’d you get here before us?” George questioned.

Jose waved off the question like there was no reason to wonder. “Oh, I have my ways. Please, let’s get you guys all situated and then join the fun!”

The three men grabbed the beer and their overnight bags and entered the majestic foyer of the house on a lake. Both George and Tim quickly found themselves distracted by a group of half-naked college-aged women chasing after each other. They were all screaming in glee, avoiding being tagged and running around a pool table.

“You two know your rooms. They are already set up for you,” Jose explained as the ten-second head starts for the next tagged person had expired, and nubile flesh exploded in different directions. All three were smiling widely at the infectious fun. “Hurry back up and grab a beer before they are all gone!” Jose quickly picked up the extra cases of beer the two others were holding and quickly strutted toward the backyard entrance in perfect beat with the pulsating music.

George and Tim took a moment to watch the older man effortlessly handle the six cases of beer and strut toward the backyard. The two looked at each other in amusement and quickly moved to put away their overnight bags and get back to the party.

That complete, they exited onto the backyard patio and paused for a moment to take in the view. About a hundred partiers filled nearly every square foot of open space surrounding Uncle Justin’s manufactured lake. The vast majority of revelers were college-aged, but a few others seemed a couple of years older. George then noticed several of the girls, those still wearing some kind of top, were sporting t-shirts emblazoned with an Austin-area strip club logo. Several other shirt logos represented several sororities from the Austin-area colleges. Nearly every patio seat and chaise lounge were occupied by a nubile woman soaking in the prevalent sunlight in their barely-there attire.

Along the edge of the deck overlooking Uncle Justin’s manufactured lake, several girls were dancing to a bass-heavy club hit while simultaneously attempting to avoid streams of water fired at them from the lake. Several men were floating on the lake in multi-colored rubber inner tubes while armed with expansive, complicated water-spurting rifles. The streams produced by these weapons could each easily remove any of the multi-colored streamers strategically attached to each girl’s body.

The race to extract the streamers was a fierce competition. Apparently, the rules were rather lax because a couple of the guys ditched their tubes, scrambled onto the edge of the deck, and began ripping off streamers from each of the girls. However, they did ham-string themselves by using only his teeth.

Rather quickly, a winner celebrated his win by throwing one nubile young woman over his shoulder and jumping feet-first back into the lake. When they came up for air, the two were now nude and deep into getting to know each other a little better. They slowly made their way off toward one of the many privacy alcoves bordering the lake. It was a little surprising they were able to find an empty one. None of the party-goers were particularly shy.

Several couples appeared throughout the lake, patio, and beach entrance areas interspersed among the plethora of nude, female flesh. It was not difficult to miss a few more daring couples thoroughly enjoying each other and the bright and warm sun overhead. Several groupings were doing the no-pants dance in beat with the heavily bass-filled club music popular with the younger members of the crowd.

There were several women off to the side, in the bright sunlight, working on full-body tans. Many more were lying prone on beach towels. However, the most eye-catching area featured several scantily-clad women lathering themselves and each other with gallons of suntan oil.

Floating in a few different spots on the lake were small islands that were big enough for three people to comfortably use the built-in stripper poles. Undeniably, these girls were not new to the use of the poles, either.

Tim nudged George to get his attention then pointed off to the side of the entrance. Burly workers were unloading dozens of cases and a couple of kegs off of a Shiner beer truck. They weren’t moving fast, but they undoubtedly were enjoying the sights!

The backyard patio area met the lake’s edge with a sand beach entrance. Several topless women were playing an unorganized yet raucous game of something akin to volleyball in the shallow beach entrance of the lake.

Off to one side, the deepest part of the lake, stood the diving platform. Behind it, at the platform’s base, was a large dance floor surrounded by speakers and club lighting. The lighting was off since the strong sunlight would dampen their effects. A young man in his early 20s feverishly worked over the soundboard and mixed current club hits with older choices in a DJ booth built into the bottom of the diving platform. The partiers enjoyed his efforts.

“Yes! Welcome, friends, to my home! I’m glad you all could come out today for a little bit of a good time!” At first, it was challenging to find the amplified voice’s source, but then he made his presence known to all. Uncle Justin was in his standard uniform consisting of a festive Hawaiian shirt, blue jean shorts, and leather sandals. He served as the ever-vigilant emcee high above the lake on the diving platform.

“Well, how about this great music from DJ Stiff-E on the ones and twos! Let’s have a round of applause for him!” Uncle Justin was cheering and waving his hands above his head like a crazy person. The fellow partiers were eating it all up, and the sense of fun was easy to catch.

“Holy shit! Well, it’s about time y’all got here!” Uncle Justin pointed down to Tim and George, who had just received a couple of beer bottles from Jose. “Ladies and gentlemen! The true festivities can now begin with the arrival of our judges! So, ladies, if you are going to compete, make your way to the dance floor right now! You two stay there. I’ll be right down!” Uncle Justin passed the microphone off to the DJ behind him on the diving platform. A quick couple of steps and Uncle Justin jumped out toward the deeper end of the lake. The cheers all around highlighted everyone’s approval of his form of a cannonball. Just splashed, the girls on the floating dance islands didn’t even miss a step.

Uncle Justin launched out of the water like a dolphin performing at SeaWorld. He quickly swam up and out of the lake, utilizing the beach entrance. “Welcome! Welcome! I’m glad you guys could make it out for the weekend. I had a few friends stop by, and we decided to make a party out of it. I hope y’all don’t mind.” Both Tim and George shook an answer of no, but neither could wipe the giant smiles off their faces.

Uncle Justin leaned in toward the two, whispering, “Don’t worry, they ain’t here all night; just a little party then, afterwards, we can get together and go over some stuff.” Uncle Justin backed up, and the volume in his voice picked up again. “Well, come on, guys! We need to go over the rules of the twerking competition before the more self-doubting girls decide to bow out of the competition. No one wants that now, do they?”

An hour later, Uncle Justin’s impromptu twerking competition turned into a nude diving competition, and several men joined in the fun. The best was a couple who hugged each other and jumped off the platform together. The splash they made together was epic, and they indeed won the main prize. Uncle Justin gave them a thousand-dollar gift certificate good for any of his websites. They showed great appreciation for the award.

Eventually, hunger began, and Jose, Uncle Justin’s right-hand man, took his spot as the grill master, churning out everything from hamburgers to steaks to lobster tails. Thus, the party morphed into a celebration for the workers of Uncle Justin’s websites. Several of the new guests looked like they did not get out very often. Others looked like they had not ever see much nude, female flesh that was not on a screen.

One of the funnier moments was Uncle Justin catching one of his programmers watching something on his phone while two women were massaging themselves right beside him. He didn’t notice the girls until Uncle Justin pulled the phone out of his hands and physically turned the poor guy’s face to see the lotion ooze its way between the thighs of a rather busty blonde.

Uncle Justin, Tim, and George were all seated at the main outdoor table, with their lunch served by Jose. Tim could not hold his curiosity any longer. “Okay, Jose, how in the hell did you beat us here from Walmart? I mean, we left the parking lot and didn’t even see you pass us by when we turned down the entrance road. No one passed us. How’d you beat us here?”

Jose had just served Uncle Justin his second helping of surf and turf and sat down to enjoy his own. The security expert’s initial uneasiness toward the new friends quickly dissolved into genuine happiness with a warm, smiling, and welcoming face as he responded, “Well, I know the back ways to get here from Walmart. I don’t much like any traffic, and it is a private road.” The road is mostly covered by trees, and it pretty much backs up to the rear loading docks of the Walmart. I have access to the back door, and I always do my shopping in and out through the back, so I have a much straighter shot here than through the winding entrance road.”

“You can’t find the road unless you know it’s there,” Jose explained, “and you do need a four-by-four to use it anyway. It’s not paved.”

“I own the land the Walmart is sitting on. We have a standing deal with them to keep the area clear so we can come in and out whenever we like,” Uncle Justin added. He grabbed the opened bag of corn chips off the table and shoved a handful into his mouth. Tim figured it was the same bag that Jose had started munching on in the Walmart. “It wasn’t on their leased land, so they didn’t much care, and since then, the manager and I have become good friends. He was already a member of several of my emergency preparation websites.”

Uncle Justin shoved some more chips in his mouth, and without finishing his chewing, he continued, “Good guy. He gave us a key and put us on the electronic logs, so we can come and go through the back like we’re employees.”

He smiled and bent over for an ice cooler sitting beside him. Then he pulled out two bottles of Shiner Bock and slid one over to Jose.

The debauchery of the day began to wind down well after the sun went down for the day. Eventually, people simply started tiring from a full day of non-stop fun in the sun. Interested couples formed groups under the patio’s protection from the sun and any spying eyes. Their rather explicit gang bangs likely also led to worn-out adults.

It turned out Uncle Justin had standing deals to bring in girls for eye candy and have a good time. The girls from the strip clubs and sororities took the day as an excuse for sunlight and an effortless payday. If they created side deals with any of Uncle Justin’s guests, that was totally between the two parties. Uncle Justin just advised the transactions be made inside or under the shade as a precaution.

A Greyhound bus pulled up to the main entrance, and the girls all had re-donned the clothes they wore when they arrived. The majority of Uncle Justin’s guests also made their way to their cars. Tim smiled to himself when he noticed the vast majority of those vehicles were luxury SUVs riding much lower than expected. He turned to Jose and pointed to the convoy of SUVs pulling out of the monstrous underground garage heading out of the compound and asked, “Why are those SUVs riding so low?”

Jose looked at what Tim pointed to and answered, “Bulletproofing.”

Without saying anything, Jose read Tim’s physical response and nodded an added affirmation. George heard the question and shook his head at the thought but drowned any further questions in his latest bottle.

“Do you do these parties very often?” George queried aloud, motioning to the remaining partiers at the table.

“Well, this one just sort of popped up. I usually do these once a month or so just as a way for my employees to wind down. I started them because I realized I was losing many employees because of the stress. I’m not the easiest guy to work for, you know,” was Uncle Justin’s reply.

The afternoon’s libations affected Jose, and he couldn’t stop his snicker. That set off the rest of the table, but Uncle Justin just smiled, reclined in his seat, and put his feet up on the table like he was on cloud nine.

A few moments later, a final convoy of SUVs pulled out of the garage and made their way down the entrance road. A change in atmosphere was almost palpable as the remaining group grabbed their places at the table. Uncle Justin toned down his attitude from the afternoon and filled it in with an authoritative air.

“Okay. I think everyone throughout the day has had a chance to meet both George and Tim here, right?” The others at the table aimed smiles and waves at the two.

“Fellas. These are the people behind the websites and their ulterior uses.” Uncle Justin stood up from his seat and began pacing behind the others. “Martin Ortiz here is a top-of-the-line programmer and responsible for the majority of the security behind my sites. He also runs the unit of programmers who work on our other projects. There is no need to go over them here, but I suggest you guys get together and talk shop about what you guys can do. I have a feeling together you guys can help each other in thousands of ways we haven’t even thought of yet.”

The older Hispanic man wore what appeared to be a replica of Uncle Justin’s Hawaiian shirt, blue jean shorts, and leather sandals. His dark brown eyes were a striking contrast to his more salt than pepper hair. “Martin is an encryption expert, and his work is the basis for many inferior anti-virus programs on the market. He saved the good stuff for the programs we only use with our friends. He wrote the programs we are now using in our PCs.”

He continued to the next person – a much younger man in his early twenties but looking even more youthful. “This is Brett Mason. He is another programmer here, and his specialty is actually web design. That may not seem like much, but he is absolutely the fastest in the game I’ve ever seen, and we have yet to find a mistake or flaw in any of his designed sites. He is more in the front of our in-house businesses. I mean, look at this pale face. He just oozes programmer who doesn’t ever see the sun.”

Uncle Justin pushed the brim of Brett’s Texas Rangers baseball cap down to his nose like a brother annoying his younger sibling. “He also happens to be an incredible hacker.” The young man seemed to glow at the praise from his boss.

Uncle Justin continued around the table and stopped between a couple who had not taken their hands off each other since Tim and George arrived, as far as Tim and George had seen.

“Next, guys, we have Gloria and Fred Upton. These two wonderful people are the heart and soul of the sales force for my companies. These guys have an address book that every salesman in the world would kill to get their hands on. Gloria and Fred know everyone, or at the very least, they know someone who knows. These two can sell air conditioning to Eskimos dancing on the north pole. For the behind-the-scenes-work we do, they also seem to know where all the bodies are buried. So if there is something we need to know, they’ll know who to talk to.” The two looked up to Uncle Justin like they were in love with him. The praise from Uncle Justin seemed to have the same effect on them as it did for Brett. George decided that was something important to remember for later.

Uncle Justin moved to the final person at the table. If you weren’t looking right at him, you’d forget he was in the room. He was the blandest person George had ever seen. Everything about him screamed “boring.”

“This is Frank Diaz. At least, that is what he has asked us to call him,” Uncle Justin explained. The brown-haired, brown-eyed, thirty-something man nodded slightly at his introduction. “Frank does not seem to exist in the eyes of the government. At least, none of the people I know have ever been able to find anything on him.”

Uncle Justin smiled and put both hands on Frank’s shoulders. “But damn, if Frank can’t figure out how to navigate through the miles of red tape our great government is built upon -- not only our government but also the vast majority of governments around the world. He is a good guy to have in your pocket.”

Uncle Justin walked back to his seat and pulled the chair out but did not sit down. “Tim,” he challenged, “could you demonstrate a little bit of what makes you a bit different?” He pulled out a knife from a hidden sheath underneath his Hawaiian shirt and stabbed it into the table in front of Tim.

Tim looked to George, who nodded his approval, then he stood up and pulled the lamp in the middle of the table closer to him. He noticed several others standing up to get a better look at the demonstration. It seemed everyone at the table had a good idea of what made Tim different from everyone else, but they needed a demonstration.

Tim flattened his hand onto the table and carefully sliced across the meat of his hand, making a deep cut and producing a good amount of blood after the initial incision. There was an audible sigh of shock from both the Upton couple and Bret, the young hacker. The group sounded enthralled when, at first, the blood seemed to pool around the hand then eventually disappear from the slice. Finally, after a few moments, the incision itself appeared to be fading.

“Holy shit, it’s like it’s stitching itself back together. If I hadn’t have seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it,” Fred Upton exclaimed as he sat back down next to his wife. She nodded her head in agreement, and her face showed complete astonishment.

“I’ve heard about the lab where you two work and even heard a few rumors about the stuff being done there, but I’ve not heard thing one about you or any true time travel experiments going on down there,” Frank admitted and took a deep swig from a newly-opened bottle of beer.

“I’ve heard plenty about you, George. Your name is held in high regard among the security people for the government. There is not much coming out from your domain, though.” Frank said and finished off his bottle. “You do good work. Tight ship. I’m glad to meet ya,” Frank disclosed while opening another bottle. The others around the table let go of a deep breath they probably didn’t realize they were holding. Frank blushed as he sat down and looked around the table of the others.

Uncle Justin explained, “Frank wasn’t sure he wanted to meet either of you since he could not get much information on either of you. I guess we all half-thought Frank would lose his shirt.”

“Awe, come on, guys. I’m not that bad,” he said as he finished off a second bottle in as many minutes. He then reached for a third, and while twisting off the top of the bottle, he looked up as if a thought had just crossed his mind. “Am I?” The laughs around the table were genuine, and the smiles were also helpful in getting past an initially awkward moment.

After a good hour of answering some very pointed and intelligent questions, Tim decided to put the group on point. “So, do I pass the test?”

“Sorry about that, guys,” Uncle Justin apologized. “It’s just if we are going to find a way to get you where you are supposed to go, well, we are gonna need some help. I trust every person in this room, and the number of others I trust who are not in this room is smaller than those actually here.”

Uncle Justin was about to take a drink from a bottle of beer when something hit his memory. “Wait a sec,” he said, looking around the room. “Where’s Mikey?”

Everyone looked around, assuming he was somewhere in the room, but gradually everyone realized they had not seen the hide nor hair of him or Dr. Thompson. The two usually arrived and left together since they lived closer to each other than anyone else.

“I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks, now that I think about it,” Tim admitted. “I figured he’d be here with Doc Thompson, but I haven’t heard from him, either.”

Uncle Justin glanced at his right-hand man, and the man picked up a tablet, adjusted headphones over one ear, and concentrated on the screen. After a moment, Jose looked to his boss and shook his head negatively, then immediately went back to his tablet. This time he stood from the table and made his way to a desktop in the corner. Uncle Justin quickly followed.

“So, Tim, have you taken a chance to look yourself up and see where you are in this world?” Frank challenged, trying to change the focus at the table away from the two in the corner.

“Yeah, but nothing came up. I’ve tried old addresses and everything, but nothing checks out. The old places are there and everything, it’s just that the people who live there are different than I remember. the only one from my past I’ve found was George here, and that’s really it.”

“Are there any other changes you’ve noticed since you’ve been here? Have you seen any opportunities to make some changes in your life or, more to the point, your situation?” Fred asked, earning an elbow to the stomach from his wife. “What?! Just a question! I mean, he’s got to earn a living. No sucking off George’s teet forever now, can he?” The laughs from the group were once again sincere.