A Twist in Time

by Frank J. Derfler

  Fred smiled and nodded. “I’d call it tunneling back through time, but there is sub-atomic re-arrangement going on. It’s entanglement at a distance though time.”

  It was Ted’s turn to smile. “Now that the cat is out of the bag, I’m sure you will want to talk to General Landry at length, but let me lay this out. There are three separate code word-protected aspects of the Project. There are very few people in the world who know what we can do. Although the capability isn’t terribly difficult for a country or even a major company or university to develop, disbelief has worked to keep the secret safe. People have been killed to protect these secrets. Lives have been destroyed. We have changed history… we think. So, let me ask you once more, will you protect these secrets?”

  Rae replied, “This is the most exciting work in science going on in the world. I’m thrilled to be a part of it. Yes, I understand the responsibility.”

  Ted nodded again, “After you talk with Fred, I want you to come to Homestead. Sally has a course she created that includes some technology, a lot of history, and many legal warnings. And, we also need to talk with you about our relationships with the Japanese.”

  Turning to Jose, Ted said, “Can we talk to your troops?”

  As Jose’s expanded crew gathered in the Operations Room, they lined the walls of the relatively small space. Ted took a spot in the center of the room and they quieted down.

  “The information I’m about to give you is classified top secret tango delta and top secret heartbreak. Really, I don’t want you discussing it with anyone ever. I thought about not telling you anything, but I feel you need to know.”

  Ted noticed that several sets of eyes shot toward Rae. “Oh yes,” he said, “Doctor Dunnan is being read into the code word materials, including the time tunneling capability.”

  A general sense of relief went through the warrant officers. It had been difficult having the NASA Astronaut in the facility when she wasn’t cleared to know the whole story of the Project.

  “All of us are frustrated about the Fort Hood shootings. But, here is what you need to know. We, this unit right here, did do something. I don’t know exactly what. I doubt that any of us will ever know. But, we have evidence that some action, by that I mean mass shot back into time, took place between here and Fort Hood. I’m sure you executed the mission perfectly. I’m sure you did what you were assigned to do. I’m sure that somehow you, working together, made things less horrible. That’s all I know. I’m not going to speculate on why things are now as they are except to say that they were probably a lot worse. In fact, I’d appreciate if you didn’t speculate much on anything.”

  “We don’t remember doing anything because once you did whatever it was you were told to do, the need to do it disappeared and things linked to it disappeared too. The way I look at it, time twisted on itself and closed the loop. I’ve been through it several times and it’s just plain weird. I’ll ask General Landry to stay and try to answer questions about the sub-atomic physics, but none of us knows anything more about the event at Fort Hood than I’ve just told you. I want you to know that some action, and certainly some positive action, came from this organization.”

  Ted left the room and went to Jose’s office. He was contemplating the now empty bagel plate when Jose joined him. “You know they’ll talk and speculate,” Jose stated.

  “Oh yeah,” Ted replied. “But Fred will throw more cold water on the speculation and the sooner the talk dies down, the better.”

  Ted looked up and said, “Jose, how about I buy you some lunch?”

  Chapter 16: “Conclusions”

  1030 Thursday, November 19, 2009

  The home of Drs Bill and Janet Wirtz

  Redlands, Florida

  Excerpt from the Personal Narrative of Dr. William Wirtz

  Recorded June 2015

  UNCLASSIFIED

  "Janet and I worked hard to answer a specific question for the Chairman. It would have been easy to snow him with BS. The very difficult thing is to boil the answer down as much as possible and present it on a single page. That’s hard work!”

  Bill and Janet worked on the deceptively simple question posed by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff on and off for two weeks. Their final product was a series of bullet points that fit on a single piece of paper.

  Bill’s problem was that he had no idea how to get his work to the Chairman. When he privately approached Ted, Ted simply replied, “Call his office, talk to his exec, and try to make an appointment. See what happens.”

  The telephone discussion with the one star general guarding the Chief’s door was brief. Bill said, “The Chairman asked me a question. I have the answer and it will take about five minutes to discuss it.” The reply he received was, “Give me your number. I’ll get back to you.”

  Five days later, Bill hadn’t received a return phone call, but in the mail he did receive an invitation to a lunch meeting of the Armed Forces Communications Electronics Association at the Doral Golf Resort and Spa near the headquarters of the U.S. Southern Command in Miami. The speaker at the luncheon was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. The invitation had two words hand written on the inside envelope: “Be there.” Looking closely at the writing, Bill saw that the script was round and maybe even feminine. It didn’t look like something written by a man old enough to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. For no specific reason, Bill thought, “Catholic school penmanship.”

  The Armed Forces Communications Electronics Association, the acronym is pronounced “af-see-uh”, is an organization started after WWII as a meeting place for what Bill thought of as the “Geeks and Eggheads” of the defense industry. At various times the group was dominated on the commercial side by Bell Labs, Rockwell, IBM, and other major players. The military members of AFCEA benefited from industry technical seminars and access to basic research protected by non-disclosure agreements. The commercial industry members gained access to and influenced the thinking of generations of military officers who generated requirements and procurement actions.

  AFCEA, while it is not unique, is certainly the kind of thing that President Eisenhower warned about in his 1961 speech on the dangers of the military industrial complex. But, the members of AFCEA do a good job of keeping things above board and, on the whole the effect is beneficial for the country.

  On the day of the luncheon event, Bill kissed his wife, folded a single piece of paper into the inside pocket of his sport coat, and made the hour drive from Homestead into south west Miami. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he felt prepared. He and Janet had discussed the Chairman’s question many times and they both had given it a lot of thought.

  He found the hotel easily enough, parked in self parking, and presented his invitation at the ballroom door. He found he had to pay $18 for the lunch and fumbled for a credit card while the entry line built behind him.

  Because US Southcom is a joint command responsible for US military activities in South America and the Caribbean, even the printed program was bi-lingual. Military officers from many South American countries were intermixed with officers from every branch of the US military all around the room. A great deal of the discussion was in Spanish.

  After a cocktail session featuring only wine and soft drinks at a pay-as-you-go bar, everyone moved into a ballroom set with 10-person round tables. Bill wandered to a seat at a table toward the back of the room and within a moment a US Navy Commander with three broad strips on the sleeve of her uniform asked if the seat next to him was taken.

  US Navy Commander Rivera, as she was identified by her name tag, wasn’t tall, but she filled out her uniform beautifully. A voice inside Bill’s head told him that just a few weeks earlier he would have been in full pursuit mode. Now, his fog of domestic bliss stamped “Married” on his forehead as clearly as if it was written in black Magic Marker.

  Bill knew enough about the military to be able to read some important points on her uniform. The star on her sleeve identified her as a line office
r. She went to sea and drove ships. At least she was eligible to do that instead of being tagged for some administrative or technical job for her whole career. Most interestingly, she had a badge over the left pocket of her uniform indicating she had successfully completed a command at sea. She had been the Captain of a US Naval vessel.

  Rivera said that she worked in Joint Plans in the Pentagon. Bill was impressed, but identified himself as a historian and researcher with an interest in computer data storage.

  On his left, Bill had a young looking Columbian air force captain who showed little interest in Bill once he found out that he wasn’t a company rep who wanted to sell something to the Columbian military. The captain wasn’t the least deterred by Commander Rivera’s superior rank and the two soon began a polite discussion across him in Spanish while Bill studied the printed program.

  Bill’s Spanish was a derivative of Mexican framer dialect learned from his neighbors and friends in Homestead and the Redlands; those areas sandwiched between Miami and the Everglades. He had taken German in college and his Japanese was currently pretty sharp, but and he didn’t want to venture speaking Spanish because it might come out with a Hokkaido intonation. Columbians generally speak very nice Spanish and the air force captain was no exception. Bill thought that Commander Rivera had a Cuban accent… and Miami Cuban at that. She sounded exactly like the folks he heard in certain parts of Miami.

  The program moved on while the lunch, roasted chicken with no choice, was served. The AFCEA chapter president gave greeting and review of the AFCEA chapter’s upcoming technical seminars and events was mercifully brief. Most of the events centered on golf tournaments at this same hotel’s resort.

  The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was apparently a last minute stand-in speaker when the Commander in Chief of Southcom was called away. His remarks were also brief. There was the usual reassurance of the US strategic interest in South America and the Caribbean and, with a nod toward the specific audience; someone had given him a couple of paragraphs on the need for improved satellite and submarine cable communications between North and South America. The speech wasn’t intended to entertain or create a stir, but the applause was hearty and the Chairman left the speaker’s dais apparently without finishing his chicken.

  After the AFCEA chapter president declared the meeting adjourned, Bill shook hands with the people around the table, even those he never spoke to. His only plan was to go out to the hotel lobby and see if anyone approached him. Commander Rivera shook his hand one more time as though saying a formal goodbye. While smiling she said in a low voice, “Doctor Wirtz, please get upstairs to Room 512 in this hotel as soon as is practical.”

  Despite what Bill thought was his mental preparation; his face must have shown his surprise. Rivera said, “The words ‘Be There’ on the envelope? I wrote them.” And with that she turned and left.

  Bill specifically remembered that he had not introduced himself to anyone using his academic degree, so obviously the Commander knew who he was and joined him to get him to the meeting upstairs. After a bathroom break, Bill found the right elevator and rode to the fifth floor. A sign at the elevator pointed him to room 512 and he knocked. Again surprising him, Commander Rivera opened the door. She smiled and stepped back to let him in. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff sat at the room’s small table in his shirtsleeves. His uniform jacket, heavy with its ribbons and badges, was on bed. The Chairman was signing a piece of paper, but he glanced at Bill, waved him over, and put the paper inside a folder. Commander Rivera sat in the room’s only other chair.

  “You said you needed five minutes,” the Chairman spoke bluntly. We’ve probably got fifteen. What have you think about my question?”

  Using a move he had thought about beforehand, Bill reached into his jacket pocket and smoothly produced the single piece of paper. His unfolded its single crease and put the piece of paper in front of the Chairman.

  It read:

  Civil war and internal armed conflict can happen to any country at any time. Cambodia is a prime example.

  In the US, it is impossible to tell how the divisions of the country might evolve. It’s shattered glass rather than sliced pie. The well organized secession of the South in 1861 was unusual. Today’s fracture lines are demographic, not geographic. The resulting political units would be small and unstable. Physical displacement and total loss of personal wealth would hit much of the population.

  The cause of a fracturing event would have to be the failure of government to meet the needs of the people. The actors might be a cadre with a specific issue or a spontaneous uprising.

  The people of the US are the best armed and the best trained in the world to conduct asymmetrical warfare against any level of government. This factor favors a spontaneous uprising against a political cadre.

  The Executive branch of government is seen in the “father” role providing prosperity and protection.

  The Legislative branch is seen in the “mother” role providing nurturing and promotion.

  The Judicial branch is seen as the “village” providing the voice of fairness and reason.

  If the Judicial Branch is not perceived as “fair” and the other two branches are not keeping their promises, then the people lose hope.

  Look at it as Freud’s ego, id, and superego. The Executive Branch is the ego. The Legislative branch is the id. The Judicial Branch is the superego. Freud acknowledges that the mental system makes accommodations if the ego or the id is weak, but the system and society break down without an effective superego.

  The chances of the United States seeing internal conflict and fracturing within the next five years are 60 to 40 against. Beyond that time frame, tell me what the courts and the Department of Justice will do and I’ll give you the odds.

  The Chairman said, “Talk me though this,” and Bill did. They didn’t get much beyond the first bullet when the Chairman mused out loud. He continued to stare at the page and didn’t even make eye contact with Bill, but he spoke with feeling. “I was in Cambodia in the early 1970s before the killing started and I’ve been there recently. I don’t understand it. It’s an ancient culture that is woven through with Buddhism. They believe in karma and kindness. And in the last half of the 1970s they killed each other like crazy.”

  Bill waited a beat for the Chairman to go on. When he didn’t, Bill said, “The Cambodian fracture was pretty much the cultured versus the uneducated. They killed their best and brightest as they tried to build an agrarian Communist society. It was Marxism gone wild and even the Chinese and Vietnamese thought they were crazy. If it can happen there, it can happen anywhere for almost no reason we recognize as rationale.”

  He paused again, “The more I study history, the more I believe in the devil. I guess if there is a devil then there must be a god, but I know for sure there is a devil.”

  “I hope he doesn’t come here,” the Chairman observed.

  The Chairman glanced at Commander Rivera, raised an eyebrow and said, “Why can’t you guys make stuff this easy to understand?”

  The Commander was apparently completely comfortable with the Nation’s highest ranking military officer. She showed it as she sat up a little straighter and replied, “Sir, I have many bosses between my level and yours. Every time I send you something, each level has to be satisfied.”

  “See that, Wirtz?” he pretended to growl. I’m a prisoner in a gilded cage surrounded by bureaucrats. Don’t let them know you talk to me or they’ll try to muzzle you like they try to muzzle her. Right, Commander?”

  Rivera rolled her eyes and nodded.

  The Chairman spent most of his precious minutes focusing on the concept of the country as “shattered glass”. Wirtz explained that geographic concepts like the “Old South” were out of date. The greater Atlanta area has more in common with Chicago than with the rest of Georgia and the same was true of Chicago within Illinois. He used Janet’s line that the US has never really been a melting pot, but that it is a lot mo
re like a salad bowl. Bill and Janet forecast barricaded neighborhoods and closed areas of countryside before secession of states. He emphasized that the activity would start in earnest by ignoring, invalidating, and rebelling against Federal laws and regulations.

  After fifteen minutes of good discussion, there was another knock on the door of room 512. When Rivera opened the door a senior Air Force NCO simply nodded at the Chairman and then turned his back to watch the hallway.

  The Chairman stared at the piece of paper Bill had created for a few more heartbeats, nodded, and then handed it back to Bill. “I’ve got it. Burn this. We never met.” He picked up his uniform jacket from the bed and left the room still in his shirtsleeves. Other papers were still on the table. Apparently it was Rivera’s job to collect them.

  The door slammed and Bill looked at the Naval officer. “You snuck up on me.” He said.

  She smiled. “It’s my job. I’m one of the few he trusts… with good reason. I liked your answers. He gave us the same question and we jumped through all kinds of scenarios with specific states joining together, but by the time all of the bosses bought off on the presentation it was nothing but a whole bunch of if-then statements. We were all hedging and no content. Your discussion at least says something.”