Quantum Storms - Aaron Seven
Page 17
“Commodore Spencer, are you well?” Serea asked, her face flushed with anger. “Frank, the moment this man’s foot hit the deck, you worked for him. He doesn’t take commands - or crap - from you! Is that clear enough? I wrote this charter, and it’s clearly you who are insubordinate!”
Spencer’s face curled in a sneer. “Well, Serea, when you hear the truth, then you’ll change your mind.”
“The truth, Frank? You have a corner on today’s truth, do you?” Conlin asked, obviously more out of curiosity than anything else. “Alright then, court is convened, just as you asked. Now spill it out. We’re all anxious to hear the whole truth and nothing but the truth, according to Commodore Spencer.”
“Alright. You asked for it. And I’m truly sorry, Serea, at what this is going to do to your marriage and your trust in this man, who’s not what he seems to be. He’s a charlatan, a known criminal and rouge, and that’s on a good day!”
“Now I’ve got to hear this story. It must really be good,” Seven said, clutching the stuffed bear against his chest with folded arms. He looked back to Commodore Frank Spencer whose face was flushed red with anger. Spencer stood facing him, his grey eyes boring into Seven’s. Spencer was a man small in stature, standing a full three inches shorter than Seven. He was thin, a product of his own obviously out-of-control metabolism and energy that seemed to drive him and those around him to some kind of frenetic action, whether any of them liked it or not. Spencer’s white hair was cut into a flat-top and stood no more than a close fraction of an inch above his scalp.
“I’ve received intelligence reports on this man,” Spencer said angrily. “He has a rap sheet as long as my arm. He left his first graduate program at Princeton in humiliation after having publicly disgraced his superiors at his thesis defense. Then, after insulting each of the committee individually, he left in a rage. He then managed to enroll at the University of Miami, probably under an assumed name, where he…”
“Probably under an assumed name?” Conlin interrupted, showing no trace of emotion. “Are you certain about that particular element of fact, Commodore? Did your sources say specifically that Seven enrolled at the University of Miami under an assumed name?” Conlin’s words were precise; his diction belied his well above average intelligence. He stood about Seven’s height, a man of average build with medium brown hair that fell in a windblown angle across his attractive face that seemed inviting and friendly yet, at the same time, decisive and firmly in control.
“No, as a point of fact, the report did not state that Mr. Seven had an assumed name,” Spencer admitted.
“I would suggest that you not embellish any more facts, Commodore,” Conlin instructed sternly in an authoritative tone that had many years practice from behind the bench. “Continue.”
“It was at the University of Miami that Seven’s true character was demonstrated. Here, again at his thesis defense, he committed felony battery against yet another superior and was convicted and jailed. He has not been able to find suitable employment and has been assigned to menial labor where he could find it. How he was able to worm his way into a position of trust with Raylond Desmond must be a ruse of monumental proportion. And how he managed in such a short time to woo and marry his daughter is yet another crime against the Desmond family and, indeed, the whole world. I will not stand by and allow this convicted felon to assume command here; I will not! If he departs this deck as Director of Pacifica, then I would rather stay on the surface and take my chances with the sharks.”
“Is that it, Commodore? Is that the full report?” Conlin asked dryly.
“Yes, it is. And I believe it’s quite enough,” Spencer responded, looking back to Seven with unconcealed hate and revulsion.
“And where did you come by these facts?” Conlin asked.
“I could not allow, in good faith, a total stranger without reputation to just walk in here and assume command of one of the most important human settlements in history. I asked the Commander in Chief of the Pacific for his file and I got it.”
“So, without authorization from my father, you went to Naval Intelligence and got Dr. Seven’s personal files?” Serea asked pointedly, her own voice now angry.
“Now, just a moment, just a moment here,” Spencer said, now clearly aware that he had revealed no surprises to anyone. “I had a clear responsibility and I acted for the good of my command.” He looked back to Seven, who was standing just inches away, and pointed his finger at his chest. “He’s a convicted felon and a confidence man, and I will not permit him down below in Pacifica ! That’s the end of this discussion. Besides, miss,” he said, looking at Serea, “if you knew all these things and married him anyway, then your own character is in question. Your little midnight trysts have now placed us all in jeopardy!”
“Will you please hold Bucky Bear?” Seven said fiercely, thrusting the stuffed animal to Conlin without even looking in his direction. “Commodore, you need to cool your jets,” Seven said as he closed the single step between himself and where Spencer was standing.
“No, Aaron! No!” Serea pleaded, but it was too late.
Seven grabbed the officer by his collar, spun him around and lifted him at the seat of his pants by his belt, tossing him over the side of the platform into the water with a single motion. Spencer fell the 15 feet into the ocean and splashed underwater.
Conlin and Serea both stared at one another with open mouths then rushed to the edge of the platform to see Spencer come sputtering to the surface.
Seven grabbed a life ring from the railing of the platform and tossed it down, aiming at Spencer’s head. He then called to the Master at Arms, “Toss him a line and fetch up your old boss, sailor, unless the sharks should decide they want a late evening snack.”
The Master at Arms tossed a line over the side which Spencer grabbed and used to pull himself over to a ladder on the edge of the platform. The Master at Arms drew tension on the line as Spencer climbed quickly to the top. The moment his red face appeared above the edge, Seven, Serea and Conlin could all see he was beyond mere anger.
“I demand – immediately - I demand my rights under the Pacifica charter! I demand an immediate vote of confidence and a removal of this lunatic from position as Director! You’ve clearly seen just what he’s capable of!” Spencer ordered as he walked toward them, dripping wet. His eyes bore into Seven’s. “I’ll see you hang - or worse,” he spat bitterly.
“All right then, we’ve convened our first meeting of the Board in accordance with the Charter,” Conlin replied calmly, his eyes shifting back and forth between Seven and the soggy Spencer. Conlin handed Bucky Bear over to Serea. “In accordance with the Charter, it requires a unanimous vote to remove a sitting position. What is your vote, Mr. Spencer?”
“It’s Commodore Spencer, sir, and my vote is yes, immediately!”
“Well then, that leaves the deciding vote up to me,” Conlin mused, looking at the deck under his feet. “I will say, Doctor Seven, that your behavior was - shall we say - unexpected and novel, and I have no other choice but to agree with Mr. Spencer, that it was inappropriate, under the circumstances. Indeed, Doctor Seven, if I were in your shoes at that moment, I would have behaved very differently,” Conlin stated flatly, eyeing first Spencer, then Seven.
“As a matter of fact,” he said looking directly at Seven, “I would have gone much further than you did. If this man had said those things to me, and then to my new bride, he would not be just soaking wet, but spitting teeth as well. No, Mr. Spencer, I cast my vote with Doctor Seven. And as for you, Mister Spencer, I suggest you remove those ridiculous stars off your collar and retire them to the shoebox with your Boy Scout Merit Badges. Your current command structure will shortly no longer exist and, as of this moment, you are functioning under a new command structure and a new sworn charter. How many United States Naval personnel do you now have under your direct command?” Conlin asked.
“That’s classified,” Spencer responded defensively, folding his arms.
“Of course I have,” he snapped.
“Then, in my father’s absence, you’re aware of who becomes the Sovereign?” Serea asked, inviting her own scrutiny, even if it were slightly skewed, for the moment.
“Are you threatening me, young lady?” Spencer asked.
“No Frank, I believe that your asinine behavior and irresponsible mouth have already done that for you,” Serea responded.
“How many United States Naval personnel do you now have under your direct command?” Conlin asked again.
“Eight,” Spencer replied, “not counting the crew of the submarine.”
“Relieve them of their duties and swear them in under the Pacifica charter today. I don’t want you to have your own private staff working your own personal agenda anymore, Frank,” Conlin replied. “Furthermore, I expect you to resign your commission with the Navy effective immediately. We don’t need any additional conflicts of interest here at Pacifica .”
“What conflict of interest?” Spencer spat.
“If you had relied on our intelligence regarding Dr. Seven’s background rather than CINPAC’s, then you would’ve realized that your information was one sided and misguided,” Serea responded. “And that is only one issue that comes to mind.”
“Well, I can tell you both right now that I have no intention of resigning my Naval commission, nor will I command that my personnel be relieved, and you have no authority to demand that I do so!” Spencer responded, wiping seawater from his face.
“Correct,” Conlin responded. “We do not. But he does,” he said, pointing to Seven.
Seven just nodded and looked back at Spencer who was trying in vain to suppress shivering in the north Pacific winds.
“Frank, do you play cards, my friend?” Seven asked calmly.
“Yes I do,” he responded with a blank expression.
“Well, the table is now loaded with cash,” Seven said, “and most of it used to be yours. Your bluffing days are over and your hand is empty, as are your pockets. It hasn’t been a good day, but you know your card playing days ain’t over. So how do you intend to leave the table?
“Frank - your hand - it just sucks,” Conlin added matter of factly, slowly shaking his head.
Spencer looked back at Seven with a hard, bitter glare for a long moment and said nothing.
“It’s your call,” Seven said, returning the man’s stare. Spencer turned and looked over the gently heaving deck as it rose and fell in the late afternoon Pacific swells. The team surrounding the remaining helicopter jet stood frozen in their assigned positions, witnessing the bizarre spectacle. They just watched from a distance, having long since completed their designated tasks. Seven could also see his mother and father standing at the door at the top of the ladder, holding a crying Meghan, surrounded by a cluster of others including both aircraft crews. Every eye was pasted on them, but no one moved.
“I fold, gentlemen,” Spencer finally responded quietly.
“Frank, we’re a team, are we not?” Serea asked.
“Yes,” Spencer replied quietly.
“Good! Frank, we’ll want to see those resignation papers from you and your men first thing tomorrow morning,” Conlin added.
“I’ll have to run this by CINCPAC, of course,” Spencer said.
“Whatever you decide, Frank. But you’ll be confined to the landing platform until it’s complete if you can’t make it happen by tomorrow breakfast,” Conlin said. “We’re beyond debate on this issue. You have your orders and we expect you to carry them out. Your loyalty and devotion are no longer to the United States Navy but to Pacifica ; is that understood and agreed?”
Spencer looked at the three individuals before him and said nothing.
“Frank?” Serea finally asked.
“Yes. Yes. It is so,” Spencer finally acquiesced, but unconvincingly.
“Urgent call from headquarters for Mr. Conlin,” said the Master at Arms, walking briskly to them, carrying a satellite handheld telephone.
Conlin picked up the telephone, listened for a moment, then said, “Yes, hello Doctor Desmond. Yes, all is well here!” He listened for a minute and professionally responded, “One moment, please,” as he lowered the phone to quietly address the group. “Dr. Desmond says the whole event, from touchdown to this minute, has been observed by several million people in various command centers, military and civilian, across the world. With the cameras mounted around this platform, they saw the whole affair. Anyone want to wave?” he added sarcastically before raising the phone back to his ear. “No, sir, there are no problems here that can’t be ironed out with a hot shower and a change of clothing.”
There was silence as Conlin listened.
“Oh, that. Yes, of course I can explain it, sir. It was our first change of command ceremony. A new tradition here at Pacifica ! As you could tell, great fun was had by all.”
Silence.
“Yes, sir, I understand. But please also appreciate, Professor, that all of us took you at your word that you would not become entangled in our affairs, and you have it on my authority that we are all ready to go to work here, of course.”
Silence.
“He wants to talk to you,” Conlin said to Serea, handing her the phone.
“Yes, father, things are well and … it was just as Sean said.”
Silence.
“He wants to talk to you,” Serea said, handing the phone to Spencer.
“Yes, Professor Desmond. We’re all onboard here. Yes, quite a surprising individual, just as you said,” Spencer remarked, glancing to Seven. “Good day and thank-you for your support.” He handed the phone back to Serea, then turned and faced the assembled crew surrounding the helicopter jet. “What are you just standing around for? Dump it over the side!”
Conlin turned, looked at Seven and extended his hand with a smile. “Hello. The name’s Conlin, Sean Conlin.”
Seven laughed and accepted the man’s hand. “Aaron Seven,” he said. “And this is my wife…”
“No need,” Conlin interrupted. “We’ve been introduced previously.” He winked at Serea, who blushed, as he took her hand and kissed it with flair. “As always, my dear, a true pleasure.”
“Why is it that everyone on this planet knows every exacting, minute detail about me and my life,” Seven began with frustration, “but I don’t know anything about anyone?” He then took the stuffed bear from Serea. “But let me introduce you to someone whom you do not know - the now infamous and ever roguish Bucky Bear.”
Serea laughed and laced her fingers around his neck, looking adoringly into his eyes. “My dear Aaron! You don’t know any of this because you’ve been blessed with innocence.”
In just two minutes, the sleek NASA aircraft tumbled over the edge and began its long plummet 17,000 feet down into the black, abyssal depths, leaving the tiny landing platform clear except for the handful of individuals headed toward the passageway leading down into its interior. As he approached the crowded doorway, Seven took Meghan from the arms of his mother as she eagerly snatched Bucky Bear from him.
“Thank you Aaron,” the little girl said softly, her eyes red with tears.
“Wow! That was close! We were all pretty sure old Bucky was fish food,” Bart said. “Meghan said she had left Bucky Bear on the aircraft and we returned back up the stairs just about the time they pushed it over the edge.”
“Son,” Lacey asked Seven, “you didn’t push that man into the water, did you? I’ve been telling your father that it appeared to me that you were trying to keep him from falling in.”
By this time Seven, Conlin, Serea, and Spencer all stood together in the doorway. No one knew what to say to her. Finally Spencer spoke, still saturated and now shivering. “Madam, what you, and God only knows how many others, just witnessed is going down on the official records as the first change of command ceremony of Pacifica . From now on it will be a required
event, just like the other long naval traditions of Shellbacks crossing the equator and Blue Noses crossing the Arctic Circle.” He forced a tight smile and looked to Meghan clutching Bucky with all her strength.
“Well, young lady, I bet you’re happy to have your bear back!” he said sportingly.
Meghan returned his stare with a pair of narrowed, untrusting eyes through her black, round glasses, and pursed her angry lips at the soaked Commodore.
“I take it this man is your son?” Spencer said to Lacey, nodding toward Seven.
“Why, yes, he is,” Lacey responded proudly.
“And how many children do you have?”
“At last count, just over six hundred,” she responded joyously.
Spencer’s face lost its smile. “Why does that not surprise me?” he finally said in a thick whisper.
22
Luci no longer had to spend any time worrying about finding food. With the cache of stores she had managed to secure from Mr. Lee’s restaurant, she was set for months, at least. She was a little girl, but she had been seasoned and trained by true hunger, so she was able to resist gorging herself and ate but one meal per day.
Yet Luci also knew that she could not hide forever in the underground darkness. Her nightmares were getting worse. While she had successfully evaded death by hunger, it was her mind that was now starving. Her emotions were running away from her control and were difficult to manage. She found herself sitting in the darkness crying for long hours between spates of nightmares. If hunger was killing her before, the endless darkness was now making up for starvation’s lost opportunity.
While the fear of the streets and the cruel two legged creatures that inhabited the day kept her in her prison, it was the growing fear of the darkness that drove Luci outside once more. In the death of her tiny LED flashlight, she realized that blindness was no longer a viable option. She had to find some light, any kind of light, which would keep the nightmares at bay.
Luci felt along the floor of her tiny space stacked high in cans and cases of food. Her fingers found Flower and she swept the little stuffed animal up into her arms. “I have to go outside now. But you don’t need to worry; I’ll be back soon with some light so we can see.” She hugged Flower and gripped the little animal closely, as she began to cry again.