Episode 23

Chapter 69

Staff Sergeant Rogers.

11 am Tuesday, November 1st, 2006

I met my superior in the oddest place yet. The abandoned outhouse of an 18th century farm.

I understood the need for secrecy, but I swear they were finding me some really out of the way places to meet at. I swear if satellite photography revealed the entrance to the mythical Greek underworld, they'd plan a meeting in it's lobby.

"You're early." Major General Edwards informed me.

I turned and saluted.

He returned my salute. "Did you make contact?"

"Yes Sir."

"Excellent. Did you reach her before the Association?"

"No and yes Sir."

"Explain yourself, sergeant."

"Sir, it all depends on what you mean by reached. If you mean physically, then no, the Association reached her first. They attacked the Stone farm and were driven off. Yes in that I reached her and convinced her to work with us."

"Very well. What was her mindset when you reached her?"

"She was enraged. Her dream to be in the Army had been ended because her superiors where she had been stationed are using her as a scapegoat."

"Did you tell her about our offer?"

"Yes Sir."

"What did she think of it?"

"She listened and asked a few questions."

"What questions could she have? I thought the Army's offer was very generous."

"She had two very pertinent questions."

"What were they?"

"The first was about her age. She asked how she could be eligible for West Point since she was already a few years older than the maximum permitted age."

"I remember your memo on that. You took a risk saying that detail could be so easily overcome."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I figured we had to move fast."

"That's true. Luckily we had an agent in the Pentagon who could finesse the paperwork. What was her other question?"

"She was concerned about Stone finding out she was still in the Army after she joined the Density Force."

"But that's the whole idea behind all this."

"I know that, Sir, and you know that. She suspects that. However, Sir, we need to remember that she is dealing with a temperamental teenager."

"Sergeant, all teenagers are temperamental."

"Yes Sir. May I presume to ask how many of those temperamental teenagers are smarter than most scientists you know about?"

"No you may not. You know the answer to that as well as I do."

"Exactly, Sir. When he finds out, he's not going to be very happy. He's thinking he's doing something out of honor and decency. He's not going to like it when he learns this put a spy in his midst."

"Tough. He hates the military in general and he has a serious tech advantage over everyone. Well possibly not Area 51. But nobody knows what's going on out there anyway. Eventually somebody is going to slip in and surprise Stone. I'd rather it be us."

"Sir, are you willing to explain our motives to a teenager, and let him grill you until he is satisfied?"

"No."

"It may come to that."

"You're dismissed, Staff Sergeant."

"Yes Sir."

I left the outhouse and drove thirty five miles west.

My next assignment was to meet Cadet Valerie Dash at the Stone farm.

This will make an interesting chapter in my memoirs. Slightly over three hundred years, from the eighteenth to the early twenty first century in just only thirty miles.

Only one problem with that. I would have to shoot anybody who actually read them.

I parked my car at a truck stop about two miles from the Stone farm and jogged there.

Valerie was waiting at the gate. "Come on." She led me to where we talked the first time.

"Report, Cadet."

"Forgive the bluntness, but did you bring the paperwork for West Point?"

"Yes."

"Let me see it."

I handed it over. I was only able to contain my feelings at her lack of respect because I knew what led up to this moment.

Valerie Dash studied the paperwork with the sort of intensity usually reserved for lawyers and editing clerks.

Finally she reached for a pen and signed where she needed to.

"Satisfied?"

"Sorry, Sir. The offer seemed too good to be true. That and my most recent experiences with command's behavior built up a lot of distrust."

"Understandable, Cadet. But you are again 'in the Army now'."

"Yes, Sir."

"When will you carry out your part of the deal?"

"Part of it is done. The remaining part will be dealt with this afternoon."

"What do you have left to do?"

"I've an appointment with my JAG representative."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"Her. It's 'what am I going to tell her?' And the answer to that is I'm not quite sure. It will definitely look suspicious if I suddenly roll over and accept things."

"That's true. Do you have any ideas?"

"Sir, I'm thinking of fighting for the best discharge I can get. In exchange for that, I'll instruct her to drop the appeals case. The case should be over in a week."

"Excellent Cadet."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Do you have a report on the Stone project?"

"Jacob Stone's project has left the project stage. It's fully functional as far as he's concerned. He calls it the Density Force. I joined it yesterday."

"What can it field if needed?"

"A maximum of four Dutchman class vessels. Two of those are already in the field. One is in the Middle East. The other is on detached duty with Tiffany French. She's using it to do research that she hopes will lead to a cure to AIDS. There is a ship in the construction bay behind us that was just finished. He calls it the Scotty class. He's still working on a name for the ship itself."

I got up and looked at the craft.

It took up half the barn. Exactly half the barn. I could reach out from the loft I was standing on and touch it.

I looked at it for a few minutes as I wondered if the old military saying about a craft's relative size was true. This one was at least four times as big as a Dutchman class vessel.

"Why would he need such firepower?

"I don't know. I think Fred, my brother, mentioned something about a brother missing in Afghanistan."

"Too late for him."

"So I heard."

"That was good for a start. Your next assignment is to get yourself assigned to one of the ships."

Chapter 70

Krissy

1130 am, Tuesday, November 1st, 2006

Today was pizza day.

At least that's what the sign outside the cafeteria said.

If the Italians ever tasted what we were calling pizza, they would declare war on us. Or at least they would send the Sicilian mafia to rub us all out.

A few of my friends joined me.

"Hi Krissy."

"Hey Diane. What's up?"

"Have you heard? There's an assembly today."

"Yeah, I heard about it. But I forgot about it in the aftermath of the conference."

"What conference?" Lucy asked.

"My parents came in all concerned about the Program."

"Oh no. That had to be not good."

"Not good at all."

"Was there a lot of shouting?"

"Amazingly enough, no."

"I thought you said your mother was upset with it all."

"She was. She and dad both showed up. Ms. Q. was ready for them and honestly discussed the Program's issues."

"So it all worked out."

"Yep. I bet that was only because she learned so much from what went wrong last week."

"That's good."

"On the other hand, I'll be in a lot of trouble when I get home."

"You? Why??" Diane wondered.

"Because I volunteered for the Program. Mom and dad really couldn't get upset at the school because it wasn't their decision."

"How's it going?" Lucy asked.

"Much better than I expected. Nobody's tried to push any limits."

"That's good."

"No it isn't! How can I make an example out of anybody if nobody tries anything?"

"Yes it is. We still remember what happened to the last guy you tried to make an example of."

"True."

Lucy decided to change the subject. "What's today's assembly supposed to be about?"

"It's something to do with Christmas."

"I wish." Diane told us. "It's another of Mr. Bacon's historical holiday series."

"Why does he put us through them?"

He claims that learning these things will make us better people.

"I don't know about better people, but they make us happier students. We get to dodge afternoon classes."

"Yeah. He can't seriously expect us to pay attention during those boring lectures."

Chapter 71

Karl.

Noon, Tuesday, November 1st, 2006

"Come on guys, you should all know the drill by now." Our homeroom teacher ushered us into the auditorium.

There we saw an old man sitting on the stage. A very old man.

I think he was wearing an Army uniform. But it was like no Army uniform I had ever seen.

These were just a few of the things we talked about to each other.

"Hey Karl! What's up?" Mike asked.

"Nothing new. Well, they put me into the Program. But you can see that."

"All of it. You know, I wonder if anybody bothered to tell the old guy on the stage about the Program."

"If they didn't tell him before, he sure knows now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Didn't you notice? Krissy's seated in the front row."

"Then it's surprising that the guy hasn't had a heart attack yet."

Mr. Bacon climbed up on the stage. He raised his hands.

The room slowly quieted down.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. I know a lot of you think these assemblies are almost as bad as Calculus class."

"Nothing can be as bad as Calculus class." a comic called out.

"Now, now. It can't be that bad."

The principal's response was drowned out by our laughter.

He patiently waited for the laughter to die down. "As I was saying, welcome to the assembly. I'm sure a lot of you have noticed that the stores have already started putting up Christmas decorations. Some of us can remember when stores and people waited until the middle of November before putting up their Christmas decorations. If you ask your parents and grandparents, they might be able to tell you about a time when people didn't start their Christmas decorating until the day after Thanksgiving. There was even a time when it was safe to eat, unchecked, the food you got during trick or treating. Think about that while you watch your parents doing those intense safety checks."

"Times change and traditions are adjusted. As you've just heard some traditions die out and others are severely weakened."

He paused.

I tried to get a little more comfortable in my seat. I don't know about anybody else, but I thought holidays were special because we got days off because of them. Nearly all of those holidays were older than I was. They might have had meaning once, but that time was long gone. We in today's generation only care if a holiday means days off from school. Either that or if it hits really close to home.

Mr. Bacon continued to speak. "I'm going to talk about one such holiday this afternoon. How many of you ever heard of Armistice Day?"

Nobody answered.

Mr. Bacon waited for a few more minutes.