Future Discovered: Host Saga Book 1

by Michael Farlow

  One such conversation caught his undivided attention when he heard the words “explosives” and “timing.” Van quickly tuned everything else out and began listening to two men sitting near a window looking out on the bay. They were speaking English and obviously arguing. One thought the amount of explosive was not enough, and the other said it would be just right.

  “Besides,” said the latter, “the people we are interested in are on the dais of the conference, and the explosive in the speakers will take them all out. No need to do more than that.”

  Van realized that they were talking about the conference he was attending and that the two men were speaking of a panel of top engineers from around the world who were scheduled to take questions from attendees. Thinking quickly and acting like a tourist, Van pulled out his cell phone and took several pictures of the restaurant, including one of the two men by the window. He then sent a text to a phone number Harry had provided. He suddenly realized that the communications implant might have been handy here. But now, a text would have to do. Just then the larger of the two men stood up and approached Van.

  “What are you taking pictures of and texting?” asked the large man.

  Thinking fast, despite the way the hair on his neck and arms prickled, Van replied, “Just the bay and the boats. I’m sending them to my sister in Ohio. She’s never seen the ocean.”

  “Let me see!” demanded the man.

  Van could see that he was deadly serious and saw that the other man, thinner but taller, had left his table and worked his way around to Van’s back. With distracting haste, the two men had moved in so close he could smell their lunch and garlic breath.

  With a quick move, the man in front of Van grabbed the phone and started looking at the pictures. At the same time, the man behind him pressed something into his back that felt unhappily like a knife. With his enhanced, lightning-quick recall, Van remembered his self-defense classes at the Naval Academy, and almost as if the coach was there, he heard him saying, “When confronted with a dangerous situation, your first choice should be to run.”

  He would like to do just that, but it was too late.

  “If you can’t run,” the coach had told the class, “stomp down as hard as possible on the assailant’s instep in an attempt to break the bones of the foot.”

  And that’s just what Van did to the man standing close behind him. Turning slightly and raising his right foot high, Van slammed his foot hard on the tall man’s right instep. He both heard and felt the breaking of bone and tearing of flesh.

  “Ahhhhhh!” the man screamed as he fell to the floor.

  His partner, momentarily distracted by his work with the phone, failed to see Van bring his knee up into his groin, hard. The big man doubled over on the floor next to his partner, both men moaning and unable to move. Van scooped up his phone, dropped a twenty-dollar bill at his own table, and quietly left the restaurant.

  As he went, two men in suits and two police officers moved quickly past him, walking straight to the two men just rising from the floor. Both men struggled to get away, but the agents and officers of the SDPD stopped them quickly. Van guessed that Harry had somehow used the photos to alert the authorities.

  The next day, the San Diego Union front page was dedicated to the capture of two men who had planned to blow up the aerospace conference. Police and bomb squad officers had removed several packages from the speakers within the conference room, allowing the conference to continue as planned. The men, as it turned out, had been owners of a small engineering firm that had been put out of business by a larger engineering consortium, and had planned revenge on them.

  Crap, Van thought, realizing his close escape, this isn’t good. I don’t think I can afford this sort of public exposure right now. I don’t need my picture on the front page of the newspapers just when I’m embarking on a secret effort to save the Earth from future destruction. I have to be more careful.

  CHAPTER 6

  Van still owned the house he’d bought while in the Navy. It was a small place and in a nice neighborhood of Chula Vista just north of Highway 805. His problem was that he was seldom home because his aerospace engineering consulting business kept him traveling often. The neighbors looked out for vandals and burglars, and Van had a lawn service keep up the mostly xeriscaped surroundings.

  Today was one of those few days when he could be at home. He had just come from a medical examination, which confirmed what Harry had told him. He had ALS. It was in the early stages, but the end results would be the same.

  He sat in his living room in an old recliner with his hands behind his head and assessed what had happened and what he had learned over the last few weeks. He concluded that he was no longer an aerospace consultant. But that left him unsure of what exactly he was now. This whole business with Harry and the site had changed everything. Was he a philanthropist, a crime fighter, a business mogul, a security specialist? Something else?

  How do you change your whole life all at once? he pondered. And how do you come to grips with your own mortality? Like most pilots, Van always thought of himself as sort of immortal, blind to basic danger. It was probably denial of some variety. But like many things, he put that thought into a mental box, locked it away, and considered more practical things.

  He knew more than a little about business from his consulting roles and, thanks to his long military service, also knew something about how the world worked. He had already established his own company for tax purposes as well as for credibility. He had chosen the name Stellar Projects almost on the spur of the moment over a year ago. Now, however ironically, the name had a more realistic ring. Stellar was the perfect platform to disperse and use the new knowledge and technology that Harry and the Host had burdened him with. Yes, “burdened” is the right word, he thought. But here he was, and his sense of duty prodded him to do his best to live up to the task even though it promised to be more than just huge.

  If he could stop a bombing, perhaps there was more he could do. And, because he was restricted from sharing his new knowledge with anyone, it would likely involve only himself for a while. Between his Navy retirement and his newfound investment skills, all his basic needs were covered. His income and savings, however, were clearly not enough to play the new game thrust upon him. He needed more resources. He was beginning to regret the decision not to accept the offer of the implant. At least he could talk to Harry without traveling to the site. And the bombing thing may have gone better as well. So, it was back to the site.

  Getting to Site R this time was a little simpler than the last visit since he knew what to expect and he didn’t need a heavy pack, just some food for himself. As he entered the way he had on his first visit, Van thought that there should be a smaller, more discreet entrance than the big, noisy sliding hangar doors, and made a note to tell Harry to work something out.

  Then he started thinking about the implant again. Knowing what I know now, maybe the implant isn’t a bad idea. Harry had extended a great deal of trust in showing him as much as he had. Perhaps he could do the same. It was a risk, he knew. But what do you achieve if you can’t risk?

  Still in the upper level, Van called out for Harry, who promptly appeared on the view screen.

  “What is it, Commander?”

  “Harry, if I elect to have the implant you mentioned, could I take it out myself?”

  “Not without surgical help, Commander.”

  This was hard for Van. He liked to be in control of his life. His fear was that he might be giving up some control of his own mind. But if he didn’t take the implant, much of what he had been shown would not work at all or as well. He had never had any sort of surgery and, in fact, had a basic aversion to anything medical, especially needles. Then again, he was on a path to die of ALS. What difference does it really make?

  “OK, Harry, against my better judgment, I’ll accept the implant. Will it hurt?”

  “No, Commander, I can have it installed while you are in the learning chair.
”

  The remainder of the day was spent in the chair again, learning more about the scientific details of the Host technology that was slowly becoming available to him.

  As he awoke from the learning session, he heard Harry say, “What would you like to do now that you know more, Commander?”

  “I’m not sure yet, Harry. I’m still thinking about the implications and even the right vehicles to introduce what I’ve seen so far. I may be able to use my company, Stellar Projects, to introduce a few things. Especially things that are close to being discovered today anyway, like in medicine. It will also provide a source of funding for us in the longer term.”

  Then Van had an important thought. How am I going to learn how to use all of this new stuff? I need some sort of practical training ground, at least in the short term. Where could I do some experimentation and still do something positive? He thought some more and then realized, Before Harry and the Host, I was getting tired of and concerned about all the violence around the world. Could I learn and do something good at the same time?

  “You know, Harry, we might be able to kill two birds with one stone. It seems like every day there are bombings or mass executions by every radical group that can buy and carry guns. If I could do something about it, I would actually feel better. I know that probably isn’t what the Host had in mind, but as the commander, I’m going to try, especially as a way of getting to know more about and using all of this technology. We’ll start small for now and then grow. Right now there are limits to what just you and I can do by ourselves.”

  “That sounds ambitious, Commander,” Harry said. “However, I fail to understand how your personal desires assist the Host and their desires to prepare Earth for the Arkon.”

  Van was instantly pissed at this comment. However, realizing he was not talking to a human, he moderated his emotions a little. “Your interpretation of directives is one thing, Harry, mine are another. I told you up front that I would not be dictated to. Did the Host leave any instructions with you that would preclude me doing as I mentioned?”

  “No, Commander. The Host left me no instructions on how technology should be used except that it should not be for personal gain or for one portion of society seeking advantage over another. Other than that guidance, as the commander, you are the one to choose what to do.”

  “That’s better. For a moment I was about to say ‘I quit,’ ALS or not.”

  “That is not necessary, Commander. However, might I suggest that it is easy to lose track of one’s goals when trying to do too many things.”

  “You sound like my father and my grandmother, Harry. They said similar things as I was growing up. Thanks for the reminder. Our ultimate goal is to prepare for the Arkon, which means advancing mankind to be able to survive and defend itself. But I refuse to forgo the opportunity to use the Host technology to help people when I can. That’s also what I learned from my father. Do we understand each other?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  As perturbed as Van was, he knew that helping people now had its practical limits. For much of what the Host could offer humanity in general, there had to be a supporting base of knowledge and capabilities. Based on his own technical experience, he knew that Earth’s manufacturing base and even its scientific body of knowledge was not yet capable of grasping all of this or building on this level of advancement right away. He thought of the combat suit as an example. The battery pack alone couldn’t be reproduced since the metallurgy knowledge or even the crystal compression technology was just not available… yet. As a practical matter, it would take time to do it right. And he was sure he hadn’t yet seen everything the Host had to offer.

  CHAPTER 7

  Van spent the night in his quarters on Level 2. While it was OK, it wasn’t what he wanted. Staying there reminded him of too many nights in a hard, narrow bunk in the Navy. That’s why the first thing he’d bought for himself in the Chula Vista house was a nice, comfortable king-size bed. I need to arrange for better quarters, he thought. He spent five minutes using the unusual sonic shower and then turned on the view screen in his room. Harry appeared.

  “Why is it you can appear as a hologram on Level 3 and not here on 2 or 1?” Van asked, a little annoyed.

  “I haven’t seen the need, Commander.”

  “I like the holographic image better. Let’s stay with it. But there’s a bigger problem I thought of last night. We don’t have any money!” Van’s voice had risen, more in disappointment of himself for not thinking of this before.

  “Money, Commander? I do not understand.”

  Some AI if he doesn’t even know what money is, he thought and then explained. “Money is a medium of exchange here on Earth. If you don’t have any, you’re up a creek without a paddle… No don’t ask, it’s an Earth expression meaning if we don’t have recognized currency, we can’t acquire many of the supplies and services that we’ll need to achieve what we want.”

  “I have no sources of ‘money’ as you call it, Commander, but we have certain precious metals and minerals stored for the fabrication machines. We can remove some amount of gold, silver, or platinum and perhaps a few pounds of gemstone materials. Will that do?”

  “It should, if we can find a way to convert it to cash without raising too much attention. Then I’m thinking we’ll have to move money around and do it secretly. I don’t want any illegal operations if I can avoid it, but secrecy of the Host and their technology demands that we do some things in private. Here on Earth, we refer to things known as ‘shell companies’ to move funds when needed. If you don’t know what those are, search your databases and learn a few things.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “One of those companies,” Van continued, “will probably have to be a legitimate mining company to help us convert metals and stones into currency. I don’t plan on actually mining anything in the near term. However, having a mining company that specializes in precious metals and possibly gemstones would make it easier to explain our selling the things we have in the raw-material bunkers at Site R. It doesn’t even have to be a very big company. Just something to imply legitimacy. Can you do that, Harry?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “Then let’s get busy!”

  Working together over several weeks, Van and Harry found a small company that specialized in the type of mining Van had in mind. National Materials had a facility in Montana for gold and some silver mining, and another in North Carolina that, surprisingly, was known for precious stones such as rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. And the owner was eager both to sell and to accept payment after the first sale of Van and Harry’s materials. Given Harry’s dexterity with computer systems and other data, he was able to complete the purchase in just under a week after the company was found. Van then had a vehicle with which to convert metals and stones found at Site R to cash.

  With the new funds (more than he expected), Van purchased membership in an international jet services company that provided charter aircraft of nearly any type on demand. He really wanted to buy a used and serviceable Gulfstream G4 with long-range capabilities, which he could fly personally, but that was too expensive in his mind, and he didn’t want to deal with the maintenance and other costs associated with private ownership. He did buy a used (to be less conspicuous) Jeep Sahara for travel in Arizona that he parked at the local airport when he didn’t need it.

  He then used some of the funds to improve the dirt road to the site area as well as to contract for the construction of a small cabin far down the site slope and next to the existing dirt road. Van communicated with Harry and challenged him to create an access to the site through the cabin once it was built.

  Finally, Van arranged for temporary office space in downtown San Diego. He used one of the small communications devices from Site R to act as a bridge between himself and Harry and the telephone system offered by the office company. Harry could act as the Stellar Projects’ personal administrator. Now, with money in the bank, he felt he was r
eady for his first major “project.” But where to start? he thought.

  Van sat in the conference room overlooking the city of San Diego and the bay, one of the perks of renting office space. In the past few weeks, Stellar Projects had filed patents on several devices. The one to be discussed today was what could only be called a “medical scanner” like the tricorder seen in the Star Trek series. Several US companies were already on the research trail, developing such devices but with more limited capabilities. One used a small scanning device to assess vital statistics and send the results to a smart phone. Other research was being encouraged by the Tricorder XPRIZE program. What Stellar Projects had introduced via the patent process was several orders of magnitude more advanced both in technology and ability. Beyond vitals, the all-in-one device used sonic emissions to scan interior body areas, looking for a wide range of abnormalities and issues. It could then refine most of those discoveries into an accurate diagnosis. The possibilities for medical assessments in remote areas without standard medical facilities was stunning. With an insertable microchip, it could also perform its work in multiple languages. There was one company in Switzerland called Europa Medical that had begun the sale of a similar, though less capable and more expensive, device. Europa was not invited to today’s confab.

  Men and women filled the room, talking excitedly as they waited. Many, if not most, were hoping to gain exclusive rights to the device and make millions if not billions. But Van had other plans.

  Van stood up at the head of the conference table with a prototype model of the device. He never liked to be focused on in groups. In fact, he didn’t much care for groups and crowds in general, and this meeting was no exception. But it had to be done.