“A password you created?” Danny questioned.
“Yes.”
“Is it possible that you gave it to someone?”
“That would be highly irresponsible of me.”
“What about messing up your own formulas? Would that be irresponsible of you?”
“It would be sloppy and yes, irresponsible for not paying attention.”
“And you aren’t irresponsible?” Danny asked.
“Never.”
“Never? Really?” Danny instigated.
“Never.”
“You are known for lying, are you not Dr. Hayes?”
“What?” Dean laughed. “I don’t lie.”
“Sure you do. You fib a little to get out of trouble. For example, slipping out that password, or possible giving the code out to the cryo-lab, messing up your formulas, mislabeling Jenny’s Matoose’s blood. If you were responsible, you’d see no harm in lying to cover up.”
“I don’t lie.”
“You just did.”
“When?” Dean asked.
“When you said you’re never irresponsible.”
“That wasn’t a lie. I am never irresponsible,” Dean stated adamantly. “Never.”
“So you weren’t running around stoned last night and attacking Captain Slagel? Or would you consider that responsible adult behavior?” When Danny saw he had Dean speechless, he grinned arrogantly. “No more questions.”
^^^^
Former Washington, D.C.
It was a pleasant reminiscing experience he wanted to have before arriving at Andrew’s Air Force base to work on the plane. With partial power up and running to the structure, George visited the White House.
George sat in the dusty, dirty, and partially destroyed Oval Office, swiveling in the chair that squeaked. He laughed while watching the television set and a video tape he had found.
“Having fun, sir?” Steward asked when he sought him out.
“Yes,” George nodded. “Look at the video I found. Isn’t this hysterically entertaining?”
Thinking it was an old episode of ‘I love Lucy’, Steward was surprisingly speechless when he saw it was the ‘Goodbye to the World’ speech delivered by George right before the world ended. “Um, uh . . . yes. Sir, I have some news for you.”
George stood up, walked to the television, and turned off his address to the nation. “Remind me to take this with me. What’s the news?”
Steward only motioned his hand to the door and Dr. Stevenson walked in.
George smiled. “You have some news.”
“Some yes. This is a start.” Dr. Stevenson handed him a folder. “Harold recalled the name. It wasn’t Jess Boyens, but Allen Boyens. You need to read the notes. You’ll know where it’s going.”
“Allen Boyens.” George looked at the name on the file. “Then it’s not the same man.”
“Yes it is. The buck starts with me. And it ends, we believe, with Colonel Kirkpatrick in Military Strategy. We’re checking on that now for you to get a confirmation,” Dr. Stevenson stated. “Jess Boyens was the brother of Allen. The Boyens family was remarkable in the sense that all the male members survived the plague then all but Jess and Allen were wiped out in an attack. We brought them originally here for testing and then Allen joined the Society.”
“But it’s Jess Boyens, not Allen that we’re interested in. So why am I holding a folder with Allen’s name on it?”
“We think, but we aren’t sure, that Jess and Allen are one in the same. See, Allen was with us for a while. Two weeks after their arrival, mid-testing, Jess Boyens . . . killed himself.”
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
Though Jason didn’t find it overly tedious to fill in for Joe as leader of the community, he used that as his excuse to take a short break.
Relaxation was what he needed and Jason always found it in his life’s work, the Quantum lab. He had enough of reviewing faxes by George’s people about the progress of the fuel system of the plane. Really, all Jason wanted to know was when the plane was going to be complete so they would be ready for an immediate drop when they found the remaining Savage camp. The completion date was always avoided.
Chuckling at the thought of how George’s world prided itself on being so sophisticated yet they couldn’t fix a plane, Jason approached his work bench. He reached around to power up the Regressionator’s computer system and halted. In the cold lab, heat radiated at him from the three computers. Hovering his hand over them, Jason followed the heat. It oddly lingered in the air above the computers and extended almost to the Regressionator doorway.
Just as he was about to really question the heat in his mind, he realized how mistaken he had to be, not to mention silly. The blind on the window behind the computers was lifted and the sun burst heavily through. Snickering at his own silly thought, Jason logically deducted that was where the heat came from. It had to be. Otherwise the only other explanation for the bellowing warmth would be if the time machine had been used. And with not only with the lab locked up, but the computers rigged as well, Jason knew that was a near impossibility.
CHAPTER TEN
“Dr. Dean,” Johnny said surprised as he walked into the lab. “What are you doing here? It’s eight o’clock.”
“Oh, it’s a case of nowhere to go,” Dean stated as he worked. “I wanted to catch up on some things after spending a long day in court.”
“How did it go?” Johnny asked. “What do I have to look forward to tomorrow?”
“It went well, but look for Danny to tear you apart on the stand.”
“Even if I’m his witness?”
“Oh. Then . . .” Dean grinned, “you’ll be lucky.”
“So he’s tearing apart everything the prosecution throws at the jury?”
“Yes, but . . .” Dean shrugged. “I don’t know how effective his dramatics are going to be. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Andrea was guilty as well. No amount of smooth talking and downplaying can erase the physical evidence.”
“But you don’t believe Andrea’s guilty?”
“No. I know her. Unless I have physical proof she did something to undermine me, I won’t buy it.”
“That’s really cool of you.” Johnny started to leave. “Oh, yeah, one more thing. Be prepared.”
“For?” Dean asked.
“Ellen found that sonogram picture you asked for of Bev’s baby.”
Dean chuckled. “Why would I request a picture of Bev’s baby?”
“You must have. Andrea left it for you.”
“What are you talking about?” Dean continued his snickering in confusion.
“Here.” Johnny walked across the lab and to the stack of folders “I didn’t file these yet. I got them from the lab.” He opened the folder and picked out the picture. “This was taken last week.”
“And you got those folders from the cryo-lab?”
“Yep.”
“Funny. I haven’t taken any folders down there in awhile. Let me see.”
Johnny handed him the note and picture. “See, Andrea wrote you the note.”
“Yeah I see Andrea’s note and Andrea’s handwriting,” Dean said with an edge. “But what I don’t see is why she would do this. I never requested this picture.”
^^^^
There was something about dart night at the Social Hall that Bev really liked. She found it entertaining. It wasn’t the competition of throwing darts but the fact that she could annoy so many people into having bad games especially Hector, who was on her ‘dislike ‘ list. She knew he was only following Joe’s orders making her work times at the greenhouse when the least amount of people were around, but Hector took it on his own accord to make her be the only one scheduled to pick tomatoes on a Sunday. Bev was sure she’d scream out, flash a breast, or do something when he was ready to throw that all important dart.
But even as much as she hated Beginnings and wanted to leave, there were always things about the community that warmed her he
art, especially the way they opened their arms to any pitiful soul. She smiled when she saw Tom, a Society defector who was shot in his escape only to be left crippled. Cute, young, and a lifetime invalid, Tom didn’t look as if he seemed to mind as he grasped all the attention from Melissa who seemed to pine motherly over him, trying to get him to walk, sitting with him in the Social Hall. Being a woman, and looking at Tom, Bev knew Melissa wasn’t helping Tom out of the goodness of her heart. Melissa, who was forty, must have been setting up a perversely strange, paraplegic pedophilic sexual experience with Tom.
Giggling, and whispering to Melissa about having a ‘Jocasta complex’ Bev moved to the jukebox.
In her own world, scanning through the selections trying to find a song that would really irk Hector, she felt a presence behind her.
“Don’t turn around,” Johnny whispered. “Wait a few seconds and leave. Come to the house.”
“Why?” Bev asked as she chose a ‘Village People’ song.
“The Jess situation. We may have found something we can use. And Bev . . . it’s big.”
^^^^
“I can’t believe this is Peter.” Jess held a picture as he and Ellen lay on the floor. “God, he was handsome.”
“Yeah he was until he hit the final stages of the plague. Did I ever tell you . . .” Ellen waited as Jess grabbed his glass and took a drink. “Joe shot him in the head?”
Chuckling, liquid seeped out of Jess’ mouth.
Ellen giggled.
“He did not.”
“Yeah. Like a horse with a broken leg. Bang.” Ellen took the picture from Jess. “Of course, I don’t know whose better looking, Pete or Len.”
“We have good taste in men.”
“Yes we do because we both like Robbie.”
“Speaking of Robbie.” Jess inched even closer. “I’ve been thinking that maybe you should consider giving him a relationship.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I think it’s the right choice. And . . . I think, I think I’m ready to move on with a true female relationship.” Tilting his head to the side with cuteness, Jess smiled. She didn’t respond. “El?”
“You’re ready to move on?”
“Yep. You taught me well.” He smiled again, but this time Ellen pulled back.
“You’re right. You are absolutely right and it’s time you did that. I knew this moment would happen.” Ellen smiled. “I’m proud of you.” She brought herself to her knees.
Jess, confused, sat up. “This moment?”
“Jess, I want to stay your friend. I do, but . . . this has to stop.”
The smile faded from Jess. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been your teacher. You’ve been my student. You have prospects waiting out there. This situation between us will cause problems if the woman you end up with finds out. And, not to mention, how am I supposed to get involved with anyone if I’m still spending time teaching you. Understand?”
“Yeah. I graduated.”
“Yes.” Ellen fake smiled.
“Classes ended. You don’t want me around.”
“You have to . . . you have to get out there and try it for real.”
“For real. I get it.” Nodding, Jess swiped up his stack of pictures and stood. “I’ll let you go. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Jess?” Ellen stood up and chased him to the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He picked his coat up off the back of the chair and put it on.
“You’re leaving. Why?”
“I think it’s best, you know.” Jess walked to the door. “If I’m going to move on, you’re right, I shouldn’t be hanging around here. I’m sorry I took up so much of your time, El,” Jess said sadly. “I took advantage of the learning experience. That was wrong. I’m sorry.” He opened up the door and walked out.
“Jess?”
The door closed.
^^^^
Denning, Texas
It must have been Corp. Henricks’ tenth cigarette as he found himself unofficially pacing the straight between the UWA camp and the Society soldiers. He was watching, waiting, and anticipating the worst with the bred mistrust he had inside of him.
Flame igniting high, Corp. Henricks brought his cigarette down to light and he saw the rustling across the fifteen foot separation. Clicking the metal lid to the lighter closed, Corp. Henricks inhaled and took a few steps into the clearing. A muffled grunt and moan mixed together with an eeriness alerted Corp. Henricks. He called out, his voice echoing in the dead night. “Gentlemen, everything all right over there?”
There was a squeal, miniature and painful.
“Gentlemen?” He called out once more. When he received no response he secured the cigarette between his lips and reached for his spotlight. The beam of the light flowed across the dirt of the separation to the camp not far away. It shined upon the few tents. He saw no movement. Lowering the beam, he caught a glimpse of a figure to the right. “Gentlemen.” He moved the light. When he did, the cigarette toppled to the ground when he saw what he illuminated. Almost red was the color of the eyes when the spot light reflected off the face of the Savage. With a snarl, the Savage looked up from the sleeping back he hovered over, his body covered in blood. His right hand held a knife and the left a limb of the Society soldier the Savage was obviously trimming for food.
Stumbling quickly back, Corp Henricks shut off the flashlight and hurried to the Communications table.
“Sir, what’s wrong?” The private asked.
“Get Beginnings on the line. Get them on now.” He ordered then stepped to his sleeping camp. He looked about at the four guards on post and then Corp. Henricks lifted the whistle from around his neck, placed it in his mouth, and blew three times. It was a wake up signal, a warning that an attack was imminent.
^^^^
Beginnings, Montana
Working night shift with Frank always bred three things, lots of work, hours of stimulating conversation over the radio about subjects Frank pretended to know about, and the ‘I’m the big brother so do what I say’ situation. And Robbie found himself doing what Frank said.
Food. Frank was hungry and Robbie had to admit, so was he. Volunteering to go home and see what Jess had stashed away, Robbie walked into his home. He did not, in the late hour, expect to see what he did.
Jess sat in the chair. His elbows dug deep on top of his thighs as he leaned forward staring down, his fingers locked in a clasp behind his head.
“Jess?” Robbie questioned as he walked in.
Jess only looked up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you ever feel really stupid?”
“You don’t look like you feel stupid, Jess. You look like you’re pretty down.”
“I got caught up.” Jess returned to staring at the floor. “I got used to it. I thought . . . I thought she liked it. I let myself get into something I thought I never would and . . .”
“She set you free.”
Jess raised his sad eyes. “God, am I stupid.”
“Jess, I’m sorry. I really . . .”
“Robbie.” Frank’s voice blasted over the radio.
Robbie grabbed it. “Yeah, Frank.”
“Get down here now. We have trouble in Texas.”
“Shit.” Robbie rushed to the door and stopped “Jess . . .”
“No.” Jess shook his head. “Go. We’ll talk later.”
In only an instant, the door remained open and Robbie was gone.
“What’s going on?” Robbie burst into the Communications Room, peering up to the board map where the town of Denning Texas was lit up.
Frank pointed to the speaker phone. “Henricks. Robbie’s here.”
“Henricks, what’s happening?” Robbie asked. “The Society?”
“No,” Henricks answered.
“I’m not hearing anything,” Robbie stated. “What’s the problem?”
^^^^
Corporal Henricks stood before t
he long line of combination UWA and Beginnings men. They kneeled, guns and swords in tow, ready for anything. They stared beyond the Society camp to the crest that seemed to upwardly seep a glow. “We believe the Society camp to be wiped out.”
“What?” Robbie asked.
“Savages. There were only a few and they ran off. That doesn’t sound like them.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“We’re prepared, sir,” Corp. Henricks stared. The glowing grew brighter and brighter.
“Do you see any now?”
“Just a light . . . it’s . . .” Corp. Henricks’ eyes widened when he saw a long line of flames rising up. Torches. “Dear God.”
As the full focus of the torches came into view so did those who carried them along with the unison war call. Then, as far as the eye could see, a wall emerged over the small grade. A wall of Savages spread long and wide.
^^^^
Robbie and Frank heard the all too familiar sound of the Savage cry. They heard the order of Corp. Henricks being given to fire at will.
“Henricks,” Robbie called out. “How many? I repeat, how many?”
“Too many to count. They’re nearing. My God, there must be . . . thousands.”
Horrified, Frank turned off the microphone and looked at Robbie. “Give the order. Do it.”
Robbie nodded. “Henricks. Listen up. Retreat.”
“What?”
“Give the call. Pull back our men, get in the trucks, leave the gear, and retreat your asses. Now is not the time to be heroes. Now’s the time to be alive. Retreat!”
Although willing, like his men, to die in battle, Henricks followed the order given to him. He passed it on, weapons were down and as the Savages barreled forth full force, the UWA and Beginnings men . . . retreated to safety.
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 127