Sand Storm (Quantum Touch Book 2)

by Michael R. Stern

  The afternoon went much as he expected until Michael Murton asked if the teachers had a union. There went his plans to talk about the Knights of Labor and the development of the American Federation of Labor.

  “Why do you ask, Michael?”

  “Well, on TV last night, someone said the problem with education is teachers’ unions. I just wondered.”

  “Let’s talk about that in a wider context, okay?”

  “Sure Mr. R. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “It’s okay. It ties in. Let’s talk about why unions, including teachers’ unions, developed. Before unions, employers had complete power to set wages and hours, and working conditions were often lousy. Often dangerous, in fact. Workers had no protections, either during or after their working lives. What do you know about why we have the phrases slave wages and sweat shops?” The class jumped in with modern stories and historical ones until Fritz finally took back the floor.

  “Ok, so all the stuff you’ve just been talking about? That’s why workers began to join together; they wanted a voice in how they spent their work lives. The first unions, called trade unions, consisted of craftsmen and artisans who practiced a trade but were employed by others. As large industrial companies like coal-mining, cars, and steel grew, their workers also unionized—yeah, we really did make it into a verb.”

  He let them catch up with their note-taking for a minute before he went on. “Then, in the middle of the twentieth century, public-service employees, like police, firemen, and teachers, people who worked for some government, also formed unions. Teachers’ unions are mostly local, but they are affiliated with state and national organizations. Society has long viewed teaching as a simple job with no serious intellectual needs.

  “The most important things teachers want are higher pay, a hand in developing curriculum, and retirement benefits. The idea others have is that just about anybody can walk into a classroom and teach, especially in the lower grades. Even budget discussions today are to some extent a reflection of historical contempt for teachers. Teachers have been among the lowest-paid professionals. Anyone want to guess why? Mike, this question started with you.”

  “That fits with what my dad said,” Mike responded. “He said that teachers don’t make stuff, there’s no product that can be sold to benefit the economy. Teachers are an expense, not an asset. And taxpayers have to pick up the tab.”

  “I don’t agree with your father, but his view does reflect the historical attitude toward teachers. I think it also reflects the short-term thinking common in industrial society. Teachers prepare students to think and to apply their brains to their jobs. They are an economic investment in the future. So a product is made—better workers and professionals of all kinds. And politicians.”

  Fritz took a breath. He had had this discussion more than once with Linda’s father. Only his dislike for paying the taxes which supported government programs, including schools, surpassed Tim Miller’s disdain for teachers. Other than their political differences, Tim’s attitude toward teachers was a source of conflict between Fritz and Linda, the only serious one until he found the portal. He had learned over time that her father could not be criticized, the one thing guaranteed to start a quarrel.

  “In the 1960s, teachers started striking to get their unions recognized.” Fritz glanced at the clock and then at the class. “Michael, one thing your dad said makes sense to me. The taxpayers do pay for schools. Often through property taxes. Can anyone see why that might be an issue?”

  “Well, some places have more people, some have more money,” said Dan. “I think that means that some schools can have better things to offer and pay teachers better than others.”

  “That’s true, Dan. Schools generally rely on the local property taxes and state funds to operate. It’s a system that perpetuates inequality. How does that affect the students?” Fritz watched them searching for an answer. “Yes, Eric.”

  “Mr. R, like Dan said, some schools can offer more programs, like teams and music. But schools with less money also have students whose families are, well, poor, too. That affects all the kids. I think most schools have some students who get free breakfast or lunch. For some kids, it’s their only guarantee of a meal. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I can’t imagine how hard it would be for me to pay attention if my stomach rumbled all day. I guess it would be harder to learn if you’re hungry all the time.”

  “And it’s harder to teach, Eric, if your students find it hard to pay attention. I think you’ll find that’s why most teachers support programs like school lunches and food stamps. Okay, let’s talk about homework.”

  After class ended, Fritz sat down at his desk as the next class wandered in. Eighth period was a bit of a letdown after his lecture. Before moving forward on the Constitution, the class discussed the conditions in the country after the War of Independence. North and South. Small states and large states. Urban and rural.

  “Differences abounded. The war had just thrown off a government headed by a monarchy. Many different groups were settling the country, all eager for a better life. And more were coming. How do you govern so many, in so large a territory, without easy communication?

  “Imagine today.” Fritz held his phone to his ear. “Hi, George. This is Tom. How do we run this country?” Fritz changed to his other ear. “Well, Tom, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want a king. I just want to run my farm.” Fritz continued, “That conversation back then would have taken days. Or weeks. You know if you did your homework, that during and after the war, a government functioned under the Articles of Confederation. Who wants to tell us something about the Articles?” He looked for knowing eyes when no hands went up. “Let’s see, Robin Hutchins. Tell us something.”

  “Can I use my book, Mr. Russell? I read it, but I don’t remember everything.”

  “Sure Robin.” She opened her book. “Everyone use the book.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Russell,” said Robin. “The Second Continental Congress appointed a committee to draft a way to govern the states. The same congress had appointed people to write the Declaration of Independence the day before. The first draft was presented on July 12, 1776, four days after the first public reading of the Declaration of Independence.”

  “Good start, Robin,” said Fritz. “Who wants to keep going?”

  Todd LeMaster raised his hand.

  “Well, they debated the plan for a year before it went to the states to be ratified.”

  “Can someone tell me what ratified means?” asked Fritz.

  Jay Bennett said, “It means the state government voted on and passed it.”

  “Good, Jay. Ok guys, how many articles were there?”

  Mary Phoenix said, “Thirteen, Mr. Russell.”

  “Good. Now I want you to read them out loud. We’ll start over here,” he said pointing to Frank Sands, who read the first article.

  “The stile of this confederacy shall be ‘The United States of America.’”

  “The word style is still sometimes used in legal documents, guys. It essentially means title. Spelling back then wasn’t consistent. We can talk about that later. Next, Alison.” She read the second article, and Fritz kept her reading through all thirteen.

  “Finally ratified in 1781, the Articles were used for governing, although they had no legal basis until final ratification. The Continental Congress accepted the Articles as a government to conduct the war. Can anyone tell me what happened next?”

  Samantha raised her hand. “Mr. Russell, they didn’t work because the country went bankrupt. The states were undercutting each other. But then, the people disagreed about whether there should be one national government that controlled more things than it did under the Articles of Confederation.”

  “The next big things we have to cover are the writing of the Constitution and then the fight over getting it ratified.” The bell rang. Fritz said, “You have your assignment. Keep reading. See you tomorrow.”

  While they packed up, Li
nda walked in. Surprised, Fritz said, “Class, I would like you to meet Ms. Russell. These are my ninth-grade government students,” he said to Linda. As the class emptied, a few students said hello.

  Fritz said, “Hi. What’s up?”

  “I’m going with you. We made this list together, and I want to know everything is in place.”

  Ashley walked in, saw Linda, and said, “Okay. She can shoot me. But I’m part of the team, too.”

  By the exit a Suburban stood by with Mel Zack behind the wheel, surprised to have three passengers. Fritz said, “Hi, Mel. Let’s go before George shows up.”

  “The major said to pick you up, Mr. Russell. I don’t think she’s expecting anyone else.”

  “This sure looks different from when we were here last spring,” Ashley said as they neared the airport. The road remained a dirt lane when they entered but turned to asphalt once it could no longer be seen from the main road. Set against the trees, a long, one-story structure that looked like a warehouse came into view as they rounded the curve. When fully grown, the shrubbery would disguise the building. Inside, the entrance looked like a hotel lobby, with upscale tables and chairs, a counter similar to a registration desk, and even a bar.

  “Wow,” said Ashley. “You’d never know from outside what this place is. This is nice.”

  Mel said, “That was the idea. It’s pretty comfortable, including private rooms downstairs.” No lower level could be seen from the outside. When they went in her office, the major looked up from her legal pad, and finished her call. She couldn’t disguise her surprise.

  “I wasn’t expecting you all, just you, Mr. Russell, sorry, Fritz,” she said, placing her phone on the table, “but I’m glad you’re here.” When she looked at Ashley, she emitted the same twinkle as the previous evening. “I’ve been trying to get this postponed until tomorrow, but I’ve been told we can’t wait. If you’re going to be at the school—”

  “We will be,” interrupted Linda.

  The major continued, “Then I have things for you to do, if you’re willing.”

  They looked at each other, somewhat surprised. Ashley said, “Tell us what you need.”

  She went over the checklist, comparing hers with the one Linda gave her, and told them what she wanted them to do. She had assignments for the McAllisters, too.

  “Mr. Russell, sorry, habit, Fritz” the major asked. “Do you have the maps from last night? I forgot to take them. They’re not secret, just satellite images, but they are part of my report.”

  “In my desk. They’re fine. Major, I’m still concerned about the power issues. You could get trapped on the other side of the portal, and well, that could get ugly.”

  “Tony’s been working on the calculations all day, playing with the variables. We’ll have at least fifty more men ready as reserves. We’re going to set up a classroom as a medical facility, just in case. I want the hallways as clear as possible, and Mr. McAllister can continue as bathroom monitor. I need him kept busy.”

  Fritz asked, “Do you have phones for everyone?”

  “No. We’ll have three per team but everyone will know who has them.”

  “If you have injuries, where will you take them?” asked Linda.

  “Here. We’ll have transport. We built a complete medical unit at the end of the building.” She pointed vaguely. “It’s not large, but it’s equipped to the nines. The VA hospital in Philly is on alert, but they don’t know why. Our ambulances will be disguised.”

  Ashley asked, “Are you going in again?” She nodded yes. Then he asked, “How are you handling prisoners?”

  “Blindfolded before they come through the portal. We’ll bring them here to the planes. They’ll be flown to another base. I don’t know where. Security.”

  “We’ll do all we can to help,” Fritz said.

  “There’ll be constant activity, before and after. We just don’t know how long we’ll be gone. That’s when I need your help the most. And Fritz, we’ve got to have those maps placed quickly. We don’t know what communications these places have.” They continued to discuss the details. By five, they had covered it all. At least Fritz hoped so.

  “Shall we meet you at the school?” Linda asked.

  “That would be best. I’m going over with my team. I’ll see you later.” She showed them to the door.

  As he walked out, Ashley said, “You really are G.I. Jane, aren’t you?”

  Chapter 10

  IT’S A QUARTER TO SIX,” said Fritz. “Sandwiches?” Linda and Ashley agreed. The crowded deli restricted confidential conversation, so they took the food with them. “Are you sure you want to come tonight?” Fritz asked Linda.

  “Of course I don’t. I don’t want either of you to go either. But we all need to. So let’s just suck it up.”

  A few students were walking through the parking lot when they arrived. “Football,” said Ashley. “We should check the school and make sure they’re all gone before the cavalry shows up.”

  “Good idea. Let’s eat in my room.” Fritz put his sandwich on the desk, took the maps out, and put them in his briefcase. He made sure he had enough paperclips and an empty desktop. “Wait a second. The president.”

  “What about him?” Ashley asked.

  “He’s going to be on the phone during this whole thing. But he’s going to use my phone number. My phone is the connection to the soldiers. Linda, do you have yours?”

  “Yes. Tell him to use mine but that I don’t know if my battery will last.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Ashley said, “he’ll have plenty of phones to choose, including Tom’s and James’s.”

  Fritz called the president and told him their plan. “Good luck, Fritz. To all of us,” the president said. “I’ll talk to you in a little while.”

  While they sat, Linda said, “Ash you never mentioned that Jane Barclay was an Army officer.”

  “I didn’t know until Sunday when they called her ‘major.’”

  “How does she have time with her other work?” Fritz asked.

  Ashley shrugged. “The other work is probably her military assignment. We haven’t talked since Saturday. Maybe when this is over I can ask her.”

  After a quick search to be sure the school had emptied, Ashley, Linda, and Fritz went back to the classroom. At ten to seven, George and Lois walked in and sat down. They said hello, and they all watched through the windows as the convoy arrived. Agent Andrews, Major Barclay, and Colonel Mitchell entered first. The major and the colonel hung signs by each room they planned to use.

  George walked down the hall to read the signs. He stopped when he saw HOSPITAL on one door. Pointing, he looked at Lois and said, “hospital.” His now-crimson face dripped small beads. Major Barclay joined the group in the hallway. Tony Almeida entered with five soldiers carrying generators. He nodded to them, thanked the soldiers, and went straight to work. Then, the colonel waved to the door, and the hallway filled.

  The medical team, with stretchers, gurneys, tanks of oxygen, and all the equipment needed for an operating room led the way. They brought two more generators, electrical cords, computers, and a portable X-ray machine.

  The next group carried in boxes of ammunition and crates marked Explosive. Fifty or more soldiers led by the Navy Seal, Captain Jerry Burnett, walked into a classroom whose door sign read Reserve. Once all the equipment was in place, the insertion teams came in, and as they had the previous night, they lined up in the corridor, went through their lists, and checked their gear. Although the limited conversation hummed, and the quiet surprised him, Fritz could feel the pre-mission tension mount. The major approached the Russells, McAllisters, and Ashley and handed each a sheet of paper.

  “I appreciate your help tonight. We hope everything will go smoothly, but we don’t know what we’ll find on the other side. Mr. McAllister, I know you’re concerned, but we have a cleanup crew waiting outside. No one will know we were here. We did all right last night, didn’t we?”

  “You did. I was ve
ry happy with the work they did. I hope you won’t need to do any tonight.”

  “We hope so too, but if we have to, we will. Mr. McAllister, will you handle the bathroom runs again? Starting now? The boys are hyped. They have about twenty minutes before we start, and we need everyone’s attention. We’re starting with group one, so take them in order. Okay? I’ll tell them now. And thanks.” Then she raised her voice and announced that the groups should go in order to hit the head and come right back. “We’re at twenty minutes to kickoff,” she said.

  Fritz went over and asked, “Do you have the maps for tonight?”’

  “Sorry, they’re here.” Reaching into her satchel, she handed him the packet.

  “Ms. Russell and Ms. McAllister, I need you to keep times and keep count of the numbers in each group. When the teams come back, be certain each group has the proper number of soldiers.” She handed Linda a bag and pulled out a stop watch. “I have one of these for all seven teams, so we can keep track of how long they’re gone. Expected times inside are taped on the back of each watch. That way we can see if our estimates match the intel and if anyone’s in trouble.” She then turned to Ashley. “Mr. Russell will have the president, but you need to stay with the reserves, if we need them. When the teams come back, I want you to direct traffic.”

  Ashley said, “Sure, Major. That doesn’t sound like it’s above my pay grade.”

  “I hope not.” She trained her eyes on him. “You’ll need to get prisoners lined up and call out medical teams if necessary.” Ashley suddenly had been handed unexpected responsibility.

  “Wow,” he said. “I’ll do my best. I thought mostly I would be watching.”

  The major said, “I need you to cover this. Someone who knows this building well has to be involved. You’ll need to move quickly. We can’t let the corridor get jammed up. Colonel Mitchell has told everyone to do what you tell them. So stay nearby. I’ll introduce you. Any questions? Please ask. I won’t be here. Colonel Mitchell and Captain Burnett will be coordinating here. They know what you are doing. You’ll need to stay close to them when we get started.”