Chapter 4

There were new signs leading to campus along every road and pedestrian pathway. Other than that, no one noticed much of anything different on Monday. Classes otherwise went on normally. At dinner that evening, everyone discussed their day like normal. The only change was that literally all of us were taking at least one class, even my wives that were otherwise running things for CEDEM the rest of the day from their Moffett Field offices.

When I showed up for shadowing on Tuesday, Ed asked, “Do you carry that big assed knife with you everywhere?”

“Other than when I’m on the football field, yeah. It’s tucked in the back of my pants right now, actually, but you can’t see it under my lab coat. Why?”

“Just curious, more than anything. I’ve seen scalpels that were duller than the blades you and your boys used Saturday on those animals.”

I grinned, saying, “If you need to cut something, you need the proper tools. The swords that Sayel and Yagyu carry are masterpieces of the metalworker’s craft. So’s my khukuri. My Gurkhas gave it to me so I could lead them in battle if need be.”

“So I’ve heard. I did some research on you after Thursday, and then more after what I saw on Saturday. I even made a couple of international phone calls Sunday, since it was already Monday in Australia. Just because I’m in America doesn’t mean all me family moved here. I’ve still got cousins and such that I keep in touch with. I have to say, I don’t get it. You’re already legendary in half the Territories.”

“Only half? I’ll have to work harder, then,” I said with a smile.

“No, what I mean is, why are you going to school here? You’re the King!”

I nodded, then, understanding what he meant. I sighed, then said, “Ed, who would you rather have ruling you? Someone who sat on their fat ass and simply allowed you to bring them what they considered their appropriate tribute, or someone who worked his butt off so he could be the best ruler he could be? Making sure he’s educated enough to understand all the complicated issues that running a country or two entails, both legally and economically, as well as making sure he’s able to provide for the welfare of his subjects and citizens.”

He grunted, then said, “That’s what I was told by more than one of me cousins. You’re going to give politicians headaches, aren’t you?”

I laughed, then, saying, “Going to? Ed, I thrive on fucking with politicians!”

That got laughs from everyone in the group. After that, we got to work seeing the first patients of our day.

At practice that afternoon, Coach Elway called us all together once we were dressed and on the field.

“Cardinal! Before we start our practice today, I wanted to share something with you! You’re all aware that as of last week, Auburn was listed as number one in the AP Poll. They lost on Saturday. While most of us have been playing for several weeks already, Oklahoma University finally bothered to play a game this weekend. They had the night game, and their quarterback, Troy Aikman, led them to a 13 to 7 win over Minnesota, at Minnesota. The Iowa Hawkeyes, with Chuck Long under center, had an early game at Iowa State, where they destroyed the Cyclones, 57 to 3. The reason I mention those two teams is the Coaches’ Poll has Iowa as number one, Oklahoma as number two, and they finally admitted that we may have a football team, and they have us as number three. However, we all know we’re better than that.”

Then he did something uncharacteristic for him. He smiled at us before dropping his bombshell. “So does the AP. Oklahoma is number three, Iowa is number two, and you, the Stanford Cardinal, are ranked by the AP Poll as the number one college football team in America!” He was shouting by the time he got to the end, which was followed by our shouts and yells as well.

The celebration continued for several minutes before settling down.

“That doesn’t mean we’re going to take things easy, even if we’re just flying down the coast Saturday morning. As a concession to reality, the NCAA is allowing Stanford to charter whatever aircraft we want to for our flights, and use whatever airports we want, since as you all know Cal now owns Stanford. That means you show up at Moffett Field at seven thirty, we’ll take off at eight in one of Cal’s 747s, and arrive at Miramar about an hour later. We’re scheduled to arrive at the stadium at ten, with kicking butt starting at noon. Like usual, no practice Friday. If there are no questions, and there better not be, break into your squads and let’s get going.”

During a break in quarterback rotation under center, I found Coach Elway.

“I didn’t think we could use my stuff,” I said.

“You own the stadium, all the dorms, and everything else. You don’t own the football team. Our operating budget is separate from that of the University, so we’re not a part of the agreement you made to buy the school. We, the football team, are allowed to rent your planes, and since your charter aircraft can take off and land anywhere they want, even military bases, Goodman told me this morning they decided it was simply better to go along with your security team than not.”

“Coach, you sound almost like you’re mad I bought the school,” I said.

“I’m mad, but not at you. I’m pissed off at the reason why you had to buy the school. John and Jana both went here at the same time, since they’re twins. She even played tennis for Stanford. John’s wife, Janet, was on the Stanford swim team. This place has a special place in my family’s hearts, and some assholes threatened it!”

I chuckled a little, saying, “Now you sound like me, Coach.”

He finally smiled a little. “Yeah, I suppose I do. You’re a father, just like I am. You can come after me all you want, and I don’t care. That’s my job. But you don’t come after my family.”

I watched as Greg took snaps, with John and Fred talking him through them. “That’s for damned sure, Coach, that’s for damned sure.”

Elroy went home Friday morning. While we were living in California – well, we had been, anyway, since now we were living in Stanford, a legally recognized territory belonging to me and of my Kingdom – the CEDEM Home Offices were still in Reno County. Thus, my actual lawsuits against Pfizer and Bristol Myers were being filed there, and not in courts here. Kevin Stahl from Pfizer and Billy Loomis from Bristol Myers had both quit their jobs in disgust, and were already giving depositions. It didn’t hurt that the Lilly corporate people had recorded their phone conversations with Pfizer, Bristol Myers, and half a dozen other companies, pressuring them to not release information on or do further research about actually curing diabetes with a simple pill.

It was sort of funny that afternoon when a van full of people showed up at our front gate. Once Chuck knew who they were, he allowed them in, and told me to come out to talk to them.

I went outside, a little confused about why Chuck didn’t tell me who was bothering me while I was playing with my children. I recognized Doctor Korn, who waved at me, so I went over to where the men had lined up outside their vehicle.

“Cal, I know this is rather unusual. Not just from an educational perspective, but from an actual business perspective. You haven’t met any of these people in person that I’m aware of. They came here today, knowing you weren’t in classes, hoping just to shake your hand and thank you.”

I’d seen one of the men around campus, but I’d never met him. The rest were strangers to me. “Gentlemen, you have me at a disadvantage. Obviously, you know each other.”

“Doctor Lewis, we’ve dealt through others in the past. I’m George Rathmann, CEO of Amgen. In light of what’s happened in our industry, we felt that driving up here today to offer you both our sincerest apologies about what’s happened that we had no idea was going on, and to offer you our full and unlimited support, was the right thing to do. These men are my scientific advisory board. It would be my honor and privilege to introduce them to you.”

I wasn’t exactly sure how to take this, it actually made me feel rather emotional inside, so I simply nodded.

Rathmann said, “First, someone you’ve seen on campus, because he’s seen you. This is Doctor Robert Schimke, a Stanford graduate and former chairman of the Department of Biology on campus. He’s helped us develop commercially feasible erythropoietin, and received the Sloan prize for cancer research this year.”

Schimke, in his mid-fifties, held his hand out. “Thank you for what you’ve done, Sir!”

Once I’d shaken hands, Rathmann said, “We picked Bob up here. The rest of us came up north this morning.” He then introduced me to Doctor John Carbon, who, working with his wife, came up with the Carbon-Clarke equation and was on the faculty of UC Santa Barbara. Next in line was Doctor Norman Davidson, the leading molecular biologist in genome research in the world, who was a professor at Caltech. After him was Doctor Lee Hood, also from Caltech, who had invented the DNA synthesizer and sequencer I’d used in the lab here to identify Melissa’s rapist. Finally in line was Doctor Arnold Berk, who I’d already heard about because of his work on gene regulation in DNA viruses.

Rathmann then said, “I was asked to apologize by two of my advisors, because Arno Motulsky and Marvin Caruthers couldn’t get away on short notice – we literally decided just last night to do this today – from the University of Washington and the University of Colorado. Otherwise, they would have loved to meet you today as well.”

I hadn’t heard Beth come out, but she handed me a drink and a couple of tissues. I shot her a quick glance, then back behind me, where the rest of my wives were standing, all wiping tears. “Gentlemen, I’m ... um ... I don’t really know what to say. I do know that you were chosen as the advisory board for Amgen because you’re the smartest men in this field. I don’t really feel...”

“Shut up, Cal,” Doctor Korn said. “You deserve it. Your whole team deserves it. You took what they’ve been working on their whole careers, combined it in a way none of them individually or as a group had thought of doing, and because you have deep enough pockets that you don’t have to make it commercially feasible, have done something none of us thought we’d ever see.”

Rathmann nodded. “Doctor Korn is correct. That’s what Bob has done for us at Amgen. We don’t know how to cure anemia. If we did, we’d make and market it. The problem is simple, though. People get anemic for a variety of reasons, especially with kidney disease. You haven’t come up with a cure for that, have you?”

“I wish. Gentlemen, I’m going to consider this to be covered under the NDA that Amgen already operates under with us. We haven’t created a cure for cancer. We’ve created a cure for the viruses that can cause cancer. Whether that will end up curing the cancer itself is what we’re studying now. Of course...” I paused, then chuckled a little, before continuing with, “Well, damned near everything else that is caused by a virus is curable, though.”

“Not treated, but actually cured?” Doctor Davidson asked.

Dora joined me, and nodded. “That’s what we’re working on. So far, once I figured out that two of our test animals were genetically different from the rest – and thank you, Doctor Hood, because I used your equipment to prove that – every other animal test has been successful.”

I could see Doctor Carbon getting emotional. “Are you okay, Sir?”

“I spent twelve years working for Abbott trying to develop anticancer drugs. We were going about it the wrong way. We were treating the patient and what they’d developed, not treating the root cause of why they developed it in the first place. This ... we have no right, and it might even be considered a conflict of interest. Could we see what you’re doing?”

I shook my head. “That wouldn’t be covered under the NDA that Amgen is operating under,” I said. Seeing their disappointment, I then smiled. “However, I have something a bit better than an NDA. You may or may not know this, but due to the actions of your former colleagues, I bought Stanford last week. This is all mine, personally, as absolute ruler and King. As you said, Doctor Korn, I have deep pockets. So, a piece of paper means nothing. Your word of honor, however...”

Once we were at the lab, I ended up having to laugh. Ginny was there, working on a few things with Melissa, and Bob was sitting at a table with a legal pad, making notes about a new book. When these scientists realized Robert Heinlein was a personal friend of mine and his wife was helping me, they went just as fanboy as everyone else.

That evening, after dinner, I went in to the living room and leaned back in my recliner, just staring at the ceiling. Margie came in carrying Robert, then simply plopped down over the arm of the chair and joined me.

“You’re not a fake, Cal,” she said as I scooted over to give her room. “Yeah, those men have worked their entire adult lives at their careers, but you’re looking at it from the wrong perspective.”

“How so? And how’d you know what I was feeling? I’ve purposely kept myself mentally locked down.”

She snorted. “Are you kidding? We could see it over the dinner table. This afternoon, you felt pride in the team’s accomplishment. That’s why we were all crying, you know. This is just the first of what will probably be a lifetime of recognition by others that don’t know you like we do, for your accomplishments. We’re so proud of you, it’s not funny. You’re just second-guessing yourself is all, which is only human. I personally think it’s a sign of maturity on your part. But where you’re wrong is simple. They did the original research here on Earth. If they hadn’t done that, it wouldn’t have mattered whether you’d read twice as many books on Star Home. We wouldn’t have been ready or able for you to actually apply what you do know on top of what they discovered.”

She passed Robert over to me, so I could hold our son in my other arm, while she moved in the chair so she was more on her side, facing me.

“Elroy was right about you, you know. He didn’t have to invite me over to Harry’s to meet you last year. Paul Thomas and Jason Weber were perfectly capable of handling the changes in the investment portfolios. They’ve shown that quite well. Even though Elroy had suspicions about you, and he’ll deny it, he’s got a deep seated sense of faith in him that all the cynicism and bullshit he’s seen over the decades has shaken, but never gotten out of him. Our son’s namesake had a character say it nicely. ‘You can take the boy out of the bible belt, but you can’t take the bible belt out of the boy.’ You’re just what humanity needed at this time. Almost a Heaven sent miracle, as it were. I know you’re that as far as I’m concerned,” she said with a contented sigh as she rested her head on my chest.

“I think what you’re saying is, simply accept it, be happy with it, and move on.”

“Yep. Except you don’t get to move now, not until our son decides he doesn’t like it in your arms. His mother is quite content.”

I smiled. “Equal time for my other wives and children later, of course, but his father is also content.” I leaned my head down and gently kissed the top of hers. “At least we can finally start saying it’s been a year, instead of only a few weeks or months.”

“Keep that in mind when we’re saying it’s been a century or two, my love.”

“I look forward to it.”

We took four planes the next morning. Coach Elway had told me how the NCAA had changed their mind, deciding they didn’t care about what the team traveled in, simply that the University paid fair and appropriate compensation to the carrier and I wasn’t simply donating things. Two of my C130s took off half an hour before the jets, loaded with security forces. Pacific had my family and the team, while Ayo Gorkhali had the band and their instruments, the cheerleaders, and our trainers.

Beth found me in the back, talking with Coach Elway, when we were about ten minutes out of Miramar.

“You and I need to change,” she said. “Take a look off our port wing.”

I went to the other side of the plane and looked out. The team wondered why I started laughing, then ran to the stairs and went into the cockpit. Cassandra and her wife and copilot, Mary, both laughed. “I wondered when you’d show up,” Cass said, handing me the mic.

“Cobra, this is Quarterback. Tone and lock are a lot easier with me in this, aren’t they?”

“Roger that, Quarterback,” Commander Cowans replied from his plane. “Not quite able to yank and bank that whale like you did sitting next to me.”

“No, but I can take a shower, eat a luxurious meal, and then play with my kids.”

He laughed, saying, “Touché! Just a heads-up, there will be honors rendered upon your disembarkation.”

“Affirmative,” I replied, then looked at Cass. “You know you want to. It’s never been done before, and with me on the flight deck, you can get away with it.”

“It wouldn’t be responsible with everyone on board! I’m pilot-in-command!”

“You’re right, it wouldn’t be. But it’d be fun.” Her grin back was all I needed. “Cobra, this is Quarterback. Is the tower freq still the same?”

“Oh, you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking!”

“Cobra, suggest you avoid the turbulence. Switching freqs now. Miramar Tower, this is Bandit Flight, Federation Three Actual, Quarterback. Request permission for flyby.”

There was dead air for a second, then the tower responded with, “Quarterback, this is Miramar tower. Just for clarification, you’re not actually sitting left seat, are you?”

I laughed, then said, “Not at this time, tower. However, I could take right seat if it’d make it easier for you to go ahead and let us do what we’re going to do, anyway.”

It was quiet again for a couple of seconds, then the tower said, “Federation Three, this is Miramar Tower. Winds are from the southwest at ten. Minimum AGL is four hundred feet. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but permission granted.”

“Copy that, Tower. Two minutes out. Then we’ll be good, I promise.” I changed the frequency back. “Cobra, this is Quarterback. If Joker is up here, too, and you can handle the turbulence from this whale, I’d be honored if you’d be on our wing.”

“Quarterback, this is Joker. I’m on your other wing. Copy that.”

“Bandit Flight, this is Singer Mama, pilot-in command of the whale. Stay a minimum of five hundred feet from me at all times. Approach speed will be five hundred knots at four hundred feet AGL,” I heard Cassandra say over the radio.

Mary got on the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please make sure you’re in your seats with seatbelts fastened securely. We are about to make aviation history, so things might get a little bumpy.” She turned the intercom off, then ordered, “Sit your ass down in the jump seat, Cal. You can’t be loose up here for this one.”

I quickly complied with her order, getting my seatbelt on and making sure I had hold of the aircraft just in case. It wasn’t like this wasn’t the first 747 I could’ve kept in the air, but I wanted to give Cass and Mary a memory they’d cherish forever, and it’s not like there was any real danger.

Cass put Pacific into a seventy degree bank using the ailerons without putting any rudder with it, so the tower crew got a great shot of the Salthawk on our underside as we flew by them at five hundred seventy-five miles per hour. Once we were out of the pattern, she leveled us off, then climbed back up to two thousand feet so we could land normally.

“Trash haulers my ass,” she said. “Thank you, Cal. Now, get the hell off my flight deck and go win your football game.”

Mary turned and winked at me as I left, closing the door behind me.

Beth was waiting on the upper deck. “That looked fun! Can we do it again?” She tossed me my coveralls, which I slipped on over my clothes, then I took my helmet from her. When we landed and the door opened, she and I took off down the stairs, where Admiral Tucker was waiting.

He saluted me, then shook both our hands. “Thank you. Don’t ever do that again! We got it on film, too, from multiple angles. Tell me you weren’t at the stick!”

“No, Sir, and neither was Blondie. My pilot wore Air Force wings for many years. We’re just crazy, we’re not suicidal.”

He shook his head, watching everyone else disembark from other stairs. “You know we wouldn’t have let you do that if you hadn’t pulled rank on all of us.”

“Yeah, I’d say I was sorry, but I’m not. There’s not a lot I can do to reward my flight crews for what are long hours behind the yoke, carrying me and my family all over the globe to deal with the problems of the world. I figured this was something no one had ever done before.”

“Not in a whale, that’s for damned sure.”

Two men came walking up to us, then stopped and saluted me. “Commander Cowans, Commander Ledgerton, I see you two managed to cheat death once again.”

“You know I was listening to your transmission to the tower. We knew you were royalty when you were here before, but ... Federation Three Actual?” Cowans said in disbelief.

“Spatial Defense Minister. I bet both of you thought you were probably going to be out of a job, what with world peace breaking out and all that, didn’t you?”

“Sort of,” he replied.

“Admiral, once we get through next March, I’m going to talk to President Reagan and see if maybe you can’t have a slightly changed mission here. Instead of teaching air combat maneuvering, maybe you can teach space combat maneuvering.” I grinned at the expressions on their faces. “Gentlemen, I see my football coach is waiting rather impatiently by our bus to take us down to San Diego State to play some football. Kickoff is at noon. You’re all invited.”

I ran over to the bus where Coach Elway was waiting. “Just what the hell was that with the landing, and why are you wearing a flight uniform and pilot’s helmet?” he asked.

On the bus ride down to the University, I regaled the coaches with the exploits Beth and I had performed here. Coach Elway pulled me aside when we got off the bus.

“I figured Eve, but hadn’t even thought about Beth. That means Dora’s like that, too, since you were all together back when you first came to Stanford, doesn’t it?”

“Like what, Coach?”

“Like you. Part of the whole Guardian thing, with some kind of special abilities. I mean, everyone knows Helen is Queen of the Guardians. I’ve watched you play and move, do things that shouldn’t be humanly possible. I know you’ve said you wouldn’t use whatever it is you have on the field, and I’m taking you at your word. I’m just not sure exactly what would cause the Trustees to suddenly sell the University to you, or for me to get a bunch of phone calls requesting interviews about your businesses that I don’t have any idea about. Is that how Jennifer won the PGA?”

I shook my head. “I ended up curing Jennifer’s cancer through a procedure that Doctor Korn wasn’t happy that I’d performed. It was experimental, and literally genetically changed her so her body is seventeen, like Eve. She’d always been a good golfer, but you know as well as I do how, as you age, you lose things physically. That’s why there’s a Senior Tour, because the old folks can’t compete with the younger physically, even if mentally they have so much more experience, it ought to compensate. I gave Jennifer a young body with an experienced mind, is all. The rest is on her. Hell, if your body was in the same shape it was when you were seventeen, with what you know now? How good of a football player do you think you’d be?”

“Okay, I was just curious, is all. I know Holly Awarai is already a hell of a good JV quarterback. That’s going to mess with a lot of college coaches in a few years. I hope two things. One, that I’m still coach at Stanford then, and two, that she’s smart enough to come here. I think I’d like to be her college coach.”

“I’ll talk with her parents, of course, but I don’t care what your son thinks. I think you’re a good man and a decent coach,” I said with a smile on my face.

“Don’t ever insult me like that again. Now, get your ass into the locker room, out of that uniform, and into the proper one!” he yelled.

“COACH! Yes, COACH!” He had a smile on his face as I ran in.

A little over five hours later, we were loading up the buses for the trip back to Miramar and our flight home. We weren’t quiet, but we weren’t extraordinarily rowdy. When we’d gone out for the second half, already ahead 42 to 9, Coach decided to let some of the other, less experienced, offensive line get field time with me as quarterback. A couple of tackles were missed that our regular line would’ve picked up, but that didn’t hurt anything since it wasn’t like the defense could actually stop me if I wanted to score. Midway through the fourth quarter, on back to back plays even, first Spencer, then Stan, managed to get hurt trying to stretch plays into something they weren’t intended to be. Spencer just had an elbow sprain from landing wrong when he was tackled, but we had a long time-out for Stan. They had to bring the stretcher out for him, because he’d ended up breaking his leg.

We still didn’t have to punt, since I then just took the ball and ran it in for a touchdown on what would’ve otherwise been a fourth and seven. I wanted to get the offense off the field, so I could have a little chat with them.

Coach Elway beat me to it.

“What in the name of all that is holy were you trying to do out there, Mister Cotten? How many wide receivers do we have on this team?”

“Five, Coach!”

“Wrong. Four. You’re on the bench now, and won’t be back until you’re cleared to play. And even then, I’ll have to think about it. What was the score when you caught a simple pass that was designed to gain three yards and then you go down?”

“70 to 15, Coach,” Spencer said.

“Gee, do you think maybe we might’ve already had the game won at that point? Do you maybe think Cal was calling short, easy yardage plays so you could just get more practice, like he did in the third quarter, because he knew we had the game won by halftime? Do you think maybe you just showed some pretty poor judgment, because now I’m not sure you’ll be healthy enough to play against UCLA or USC, when there was no need today for you to try to be a hero?”

Spencer now looked like he was going to cry, so I decided to take a different tactic. “Spence, we’re a team out there, we’re a team over here. Coach just did a good job of making sure you’re going to have a hard time sitting down on the plane ride home by chewing on your ass. At least we know you’re going to be on the plane, just sore. Stan’s not. He’s done for the season.” I looked up at the rest of the team. “I actually can, sort of anyway, now do real medical stuff, as per Doctor Korn. He’s got a broken fibula, the smaller bone in his lower leg. That’s typically six to twelve weeks recovery time. Guys, this is a rough enough sport already. We’re not in the championship game, behind by six with ten seconds left on the clock, and needing to pull off a miracle to score. Play smart when I give you the ball. We don’t need anyone else getting hurt the rest of the season.”

“Coach ... Cal ... I’m sorry I let you and the team down. I ... I wanted to show you all that I’m as good once I get the ball as Jeff or Carl.” His voice lowered as he said, “I guess I proved I’m not.”

“It’s called experience, Spencer,” Coach Elway said in a softer voice. “You all need it. Let me worry about how things will go on the field, you worry about being the best man in your position that you can be.”

San Diego State managed to get another field goal, so we cut off our talk. I went out and just ate the rest of the clock up on quarterback runs, accidentally scoring on the last play. I’d intended to simply stand around and let time expire, which everyone on both teams knew, in not quite a repeat of that one high school game but close. When Kurt snapped the ball, I simply stepped back, and everyone started shaking hands. I forgot it was still a live ball and was going along shaking hands, one of their lineman was shaking my hand and pulled me close for a comradely hug, and ended up pulling me across the goal line.

When the referee blew his whistle and signaled, ‘Touchdown,’ all twenty-two of us looked at him like he was weird. “Sorry, guys! I know you were just being good sports on this, but it was still a live ball. While time had expired, the play hadn’t been blown dead.”

Both coaches came running onto the field to find out what had happened.

“I’m sorry, Coaches, I know what was intended. Here’s the thing. We had mandatory refresher training this week. It’s not something I expected, but we did discuss this as a what-if situation. Let me turn my mic on, so I can explain to everyone.” He hit the switch on his microphone, his voice coming through the stadium speakers.

“The ruling on the field is, touchdown, Stanford. The ball was still live when time expired. A period does not end until the ball is dead and the referee has declared the period ended. This is rule 3 dash 1, section 2, article 1, paragraph a. While Stanford did not try to score a touchdown and was performing in a sportsmanlike manner, the ball was live and the period cannot end with a live ball. The game is now over, final score Stanford, 76, San Diego State, 18.”