by Jay Mackey
In the process of calming her down, Jack was able to draw her out some and learned that she was probably trained in biology or botany. That she had some scientific training helped explain how she had been able to grasp some of the medical concepts he’d exposed her to over the course of her treatment.
One day, Jack stopped by her room after a grueling morning spent in surgery with Neptune, who had sustained the most severe internal injuries in the crash. He’d lost his spleen and half of his liver, and now they were trying to save his kidneys.
Jack, tired and looking for a friendly face, was instead verbally assaulted when he entered Aphrodite’s room. She screamed, “Why are you so dumb? You think you are so smart. You are not smart.”
Taken aback, he stammered, “What? I never said . . .”
She paced around her room, walking now without the aid of her crutches. “You cannot go anywhere.”
Thinking that she was complaining about being locked up, Jack tried to interrupt her rant. “Now wait. You know I don’t . . .” But she wasn’t listening.
“You should know this,” she continued. “Why haven’t you?”
Jack couldn’t remember seeing her this agitated. He wanted to comfort her, to get her to calm down, to make her feel better. He reached out to her, put his arms around her. Not as her doctor, but as someone who cared about her.
She didn’t resist, but melted into his arms, her head on his chest. She was so small, she fit neatly in under his chin, her hair tickling his neck. He could feel her sobbing.
“I will never go home,” she said into his chest, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him to her.
“Someday,” he said, trying to find words of comfort. “Someday.”
Of course, he had no idea if she’d ever be released. He knew some of her frustration, for he’d been feeling locked up himself. Not only was the security ridiculous—he couldn’t even tell anyone that he was living and working at Groom Lake. Officially, he was still stationed at Muroc. He was pretty sure that his mail was being read, and that someone was listening to his phone calls. Not that he cared that much. His only outside communication was to call his parents once or twice a month, and occasionally drop a note to one of his friends from med school.
What got to him was the sense of being trapped. He’d been in the midst of his surgical residency when the crash victims had been brought in. Months later, he was still treating those crash victims, and only them. He wasn’t learning, wasn’t advancing his career. He didn’t feel that he was needed anymore at Groom Lake.
He’d petitioned to transfer, pleading his case to his superiors both at Groom Lake and at Muroc, but to no avail. He’d even asked Ernst if there was a way out, but all he got in return was a sneer.
His social life was nil, too. The newly constructed complex which housed the medical facility as well as living quarters for the medical staff was separated from the rest of the base, so there was almost no interaction with the airmen and the rest of the corps stationed at the airfield. Most of the other doctors were older, the nurses older still, and they had little in common outside of medicine.
He was lonely.
And these two lonely, frustrated, isolated people grew closer. With a common enemy, Ernst, and nothing else in their lives to look forward to except each other, their relationship grew beyond doctor/patient.
Aphrodite was sensual—that was how she got her name, after all—with her touching, her looking at him out of the corner of her eyes, even something as simple as her running her tongue over her lips. She sometimes feigned modesty when he was doing an examination, but other times walked brazenly about the room wearing nothing but her panties, laughing at his embarrassment, especially if he tried to hide it.
Jack became sensitized to her touch, conscious of her light rubbing on his arm or his leg, of the places their thighs touched when they were on the couch. When her mood was black, Jack comforted her, sometimes holding her, sometimes massaging her neck or her back.
During one of those moments, Jack found himself kissing her deeply, and found her responding. He knew it was wrong and tried to pull back, but found himself lost in her.
And so eventually, inevitably it seemed to him, they became intimate. He fought incredible guilt after the first time, but she seemed buoyed by it. They did it again. He knew the schedule of the medical personnel, and was able to control it to some extent, so they didn’t worry much about being caught, even though the door to her room could be locked only from the outside. Ernst’s schedule had become routine, too, with his sessions most often starting early in the morning, and sometimes late in the afternoon. They rarely occurred late at night. Once Aphrodite returned from a session, she was free until the next day.
Usually.
Until one evening, after dinner and evening medical rounds were completed, Ernst walked into a darkened room. Flicking on the light, he saw Aphrodite in bed, the sheet pulled up to her chin, and Jack standing next to the bed, barefoot, shirttail out, fastening his belt.
“Well, well,” said Ernst, grinning. “This is fucking unbelievable. Pun intended. You have just ended your career, Lieutenant. What the hell were you thinking?”
“It’s not what it appears, Captain,” replied Jack, finishing getting dressed. He made a flash decision to deny, deny, deny. Because he knew he was screwed otherwise.
Jack never got a chance to defend himself, other than one brief talk with a totally pissed off Colonel Markham, who was head of the Groom Lake facility. Jack denied doing anything wrong, but it was Colonel Markham who’d denied Jack’s transfer requests, so Jack figured that he was viewed as a malcontent even before being caught with his pants down, so to speak. Markham barely listened to him, instead calling him every foul name he could think of, using curse words like MF and SOB, plus some Jack had never even heard before, like “skunk fucker” and “snake sucker.” Between the epithets and undecipherable muttering, Jack picked up things like “How are we going to keep this quiet?” and “Never let this out.” That, at least, gave Jack slim hope that his fate wasn’t a foregone conclusion. Then Markham stomped out, and that turned out to be the end of the “trial.”
Jack was confined to his room, a room not unlike Aphrodite’s, in the same complex. His food was brought to him, and his door was locked. From the outside.
He still feared court-martial, something Ernst had threatened. Losing his medical license was even more likely. He’d betrayed himself, his country, and his oath, and he’d lost the love of his life, Aphrodite.
He was certain that she would also be devastated. His carelessness left her with no one, except her fellow patients, fellow prisoners. He imagined Ernst, with his smug little smile, would be ratcheting up his cruelty in the wake of their indiscretion.
What saved Jack was the thing that had been so smothering, so hateful: the security. There could be no court-martial, because no one could know what had happened. Why was a surgeon at Groom Lake when there was no hospital? Why was a female patient there? Who were these people?
Jack was quietly moved back to Muroc. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Aphrodite. At Muroc, he returned to duty, but not before he received a very clear warning from Colonel Markham: Jack could never, ever, tell a soul about what he’d done with his life for the past fourteen months. If he did, he would find himself at the bottom of a deep hole, with no way out.
He’d expected to be thrown out of the Medical Corps and to lose his medical license. Instead, he was told that his career was just starting. When he asked about a discharge, he was told that he was not eligible for discharge. He was to remain where he could be watched and controlled. The alternative—that deep hole was it.
51
Nevada, April 2018
“Wait, so you’re now admitting that you’re . . . what, you’re CJ’s great-grandfather?” said Penny.
“I think we all had figured that out,” said Oval. “I guess this confirms it.”
CJ rose from the floor, where the thre
e kids had surrounded Jack. He walked to the window to see if he could see any activity. “So this explains why Blankenship went nuts. He saw the DNA results.”
“You have to understand something,” said Jack. “I didn’t know that Venus was my daughter. I was moved out of Groom Lake and didn’t get back for years. I even got married, for a time. That didn’t last. Because, once you’ve been with a goddess, no one else can measure up.
“But then, eventually, they needed me to do a surgery, and I returned. That’s the first time I even knew that Aphrodite had a child.”
“And you didn’t think it was yours?” asked Penny. “Really?”
“No. I didn’t.” Jack grimaced, still obviously in pain from his wound. “Oh, I’m sure it occurred to me, but the girl, Venus, was tiny. I thought she was much too young to be mine. But Aphrodite was small, too. They all were.”
“When did you discover she was yours?” asked CJ.
“Not until it was too late, flying away from Earth on our way to Aphrodite’s home.”
“Why couldn’t you come back for her?” CJ didn’t know if he believed Jack’s story, especially the part about abandoning his own child.
“Couldn’t. Turns out, that thing that came down and rescued us was a lander, not a plane. It only had fuel for one takeoff, because it had to escape Earth’s gravity. Coming down took very little fuel. Going up was different. Believe me, I asked. Actually, I did more than ask, but no. Couldn’t be done.” He looked at CJ with great sorrow in his eyes. “I’ve gone through some bad things in my life, but nothing was worse than that.”
“So,” said CJ after a long pause in the conversation, “Blankenship just proved that my grandmother is your Venus. How long have you known that?”
“I thought it was possible when I talked to you in the library, when I heard you were a Matzelini, but I couldn’t really believe it. And I’m so sorry you had to get involved in all this.” He waved his hand, but grimaced again, as the movement caused him pain.
“No, it’s all my fault,” said CJ. “If I hadn’t got this bug up my ass about finding Nini’s parents. Fuck. What was I thinking? Look what I’ve done.”
“No, kid. CJ. You are a blessing. You have no idea.” Jack tried to stand, but quit his struggles after it was obvious he wasn’t able. CJ came over to help, but Jack took his hand and pulled him down.
“I’ve spent my life,” Jack said, his face just inches away from CJ’s, “my life, searching for Venus, for the daughter I lost. Many times, most times, I thought she was dead. Or worse, still in captivity back at Groom Lake. And then you appeared, and because of you, I’ve not only found out what happened to Venus, I’ve met you. You! My . . .” He stopped to wipe a tear away from his cheek. “You’re my great-grandson. My God! I hadn’t really thought about it. You. Are. My. Great-grandson. I may never see my daughter again, and I won’t meet my granddaughter. But I’ve met you. And now, that’s the best thing I could ever ask for.”
“Oh God!” said Penny. She was weeping, tears streaming.
For CJ, it was too much. He buried his face in Jack’s shoulder, careful to avoid the wounds.
52
Nevada, April 2018
Kevin picked up Gus and Violet at the airport. He drove them to his home, where his wife Melissa was waiting, still hoping that Penny and CJ would show up. Violet, whose eyes were already puffy from a long crying spell on the plane, burst into tears again at the sight of Melissa, who didn’t look much better.
Kevin was pissed at the cops for not doing anything. He wanted to drive toward Carson City to see if they could find anything, any clue, as unlikely as that was.
After the crying subsided a bit, Gus asked Violet what she was feeling.
She said that everything was confused. She didn’t know what was happening, only that there were lots of anxious voices.
Of course, Melissa and Kevin had no idea what she was talking about. Rather than ask, though, apparently assuming that Violet was merely expressing some level of concern for the situation, Kevin pressed for them to come with him on the road.
“We’ve only got a few hours of good daylight left,” he said. “Let’s see how far we can make it, and then we’ll decide what to do next.”
Having come all this way with no plan, Gus agreed, and Violet and Melissa came along, not wanting to be left behind.
Kevin sat with his SUV running for several minutes, fiddling with his phone. Holding it up so the others could see the map he had displayed, he said, “There are a couple ways to go. I don’t know which way they went, so I propose we go up US-95. It’s the shortest.” He pointed at the map, but his finger blocked the screen so nobody could tell what he was pointing to. “We could return by US-93.” He moved his finger.
Hearing no dissenting opinions, Kevin backed out of the driveway and set out for Carson City.
“I assume you called the office in Carson City to see if the kids ever made it there,” said Gus.
“Tried,” said Kevin. “But it’s a government office, and this is Saturday.”
They drove into the desert. The car’s occupants all stared out the side windows, not knowing what to look for, really, except maybe for Jack’s car, knowing that if they saw it wrecked in a ditch or abandoned along the road, someone would have seen it before. Surely, Gus thought, they would have been told about it by now, wouldn’t they?
They’d been driving for a couple hours when Kevin said, “Asshole.” He was looking at his rearview mirror. “I’m trying to drive slow enough so we can look for things, but there’s one car behind me that refuses to pass. The slower I go, the slower he goes.”
Gus turned to look behind and saw a car behind them. It was white but was too far behind to see what kind of car it was.
Kevin went on, “Well, screw him. I’m not going faster just to make him happy. He can go around if he wants.”
They didn’t have long to wait. The car didn’t look like a cop car; it didn’t have markings on its doors, or any flashing blue lights, so Gus was skeptical when it pulled even with them in the passing lane, and the man riding shotgun pointed to the shoulder, telling them to pull over. Kevin said he thought it was a patrolman in an unmarked car.
The white car pulled over and parked directly behind them when Kevin pulled over.
Gus, looking out the back window, said, “That’s not a cop. That’s a Cadillac, for Christ’s sake.”
The man Kevin had assumed was an officer got out of the passenger side of the white car, walked up to the driver’s door, and motioned for Kevin to roll down his window, which Kevin did. The man was big, with a roll of belly fat obscuring his belt. He was wearing dark pants and a plaid shirt, with his sleeves rolled up. He asked if they were the parents of the missing kids.
Kevin answered immediately. “Yes, we are! How did you know?”
The man didn’t answer. He said, “We need you to come with us. Please, step out of your car.”
“Why?” Panic showed in Kevin’s voice. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened, sir, as far as I know,” the man said. “We just need you to come with us.”
“Screw that,” said Gus, leaning over toward Kevin to look out at the man. “Not until you tell us what’s going on. That’s my grandson out there, and his daughter.” He nodded toward Kevin.
The man looked back at Gus, as if he were seeing him for the first time.
“Where are our kids?” Gus asked.
The man looked back at Kevin. “It would make things easier, sir, if you would step out of the car.” He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace than a grin.
“You’ll need to show us some identification first,” said Gus.
The man looked down at his clothes, as if he were surprised at what he was wearing. “Oh,” he said, “I know I’m not in uniform. I was off duty today, and just got word about the kids. Please, come with me.” He reached for the door handle.
“No,” said Kevin, holding on to his door to prevent the man f
rom pulling it open. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on?”
The man looked pissed but turned and walked back to his car.
“Kevin, you should do what the man says,” said Melissa.
“This is bullshit,” said Kevin. “Why won’t he tell us what’s going on?”
“Because he’s not a cop,” said Gus. “I don’t know who he is, but he’s no cop.” He watched as the man stood talking to the driver of the car behind.
The man returned to the window, wearing his grimace/grin face. “Okay, folks, here’s how it is.” He reached behind his back, pulled out a gun, and pointed it at Kevin. “Now, get out of the fucking car! You too!” He pointed at Melissa.
They both did as they were told.
The man directed Kevin and Melissa back to the white car, where the driver had stepped out. He too, had a gun, and had Melissa get behind the wheel, with Kevin next to her.
Gus watched carefully. He started reaching for his ankle, but Violet stopped him.
“Don’t do anything Gus,” she said. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, and I can’t let anything happen to Melissa or Kevin. And we don’t know where CJ is.”
Gus gave her a look. “These are not cops.”
“I know, but let’s see what happens. That’s all I ask.”
“We’ll see,” said Gus, settling back in his seat.
The man returned and told Violet to drive. Then he got in the back and told her where to go. Melissa followed, driving the other car.
Gus sat quietly, knowing that his ankle holster held his little Beretta. He’d unpacked it from his checked luggage after Kevin had showed up at the airport, and had strapped it in place, careful not to let Kevin or Melissa see. It had been a long time since he’d fired a gun in anger, but he had, and he would. He’d do anything to protect his grandson.