

Timtown

Published by Ron Zastre at Smashwords

Copyright 1991 Ron Zastre

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Timtown
Foreword

Man has a long and exciting history, but in relation to the span of time it is miniscule. The future holds all the possibilities for our species. Today, we are on the verge of the greatest exploration ever undertaken by our civilization. We have left the bounds of our planet to begin the search of the stars.

Scattered among the galaxies are trillions of suns like ours. A fair percentage would likely have Earth like planets revolving about them. The miracle of intelligent life on Earth most certainly cannot be a single incident. To believe that we are unique is just a grand ego-trip.

Now, imagine a sun like ours, born a million years before ours was. Now, look at our progress in space already. In another two hundred years we will have reached all the planets in our own solar system, and in a thousand we will be headed to the stars. In a mere five thousand we will be deep into the cosmos. What will our potential for travel be, in say twenty, thirty-thousand years? Remember that sun that is a million years older than ours. What then if it has a planet just like Earth revolving around it?

A few years ago, writers used alien beings and or settings from Mars, Venus, etc., to create their fantasies. Our technology has advanced to the point where we have taken a close look at these neighbors, and the possibility of intelligent life there is diminishing. Now we realize that our ability to go beyond these close planets is possible. Just because we don't find what we are looking for over the first hill means nothing. Once we crossed that first hill, we then knew we could cross others. It's just a matter of searching all the hills.

It's great to be alive in this fantastic age of accelerated learning, but our lives are too short. I wish to be around when we do travel to the stars, but it is not possible so I will have to be content to imagine such adventures.

Timtown
Introduction

In a high planetary orbit, the deep space probe makes its final calculations that will take it and its cargo away from the blue green planet.

Its cargo is a product of both the planet below and the technology that created the probe.

The time is short, in seconds the engines will start and the probe will leave the planet's fringes and head into the vastness of space on its mission.

The mission is the cargo. The cargo is the probe's only occupant. The occupant is a terrible mistake, he does not belong and he must go.

The probe will use a simple ion propulsion system to move it a safe distance from the inhabited planet. When it is far enough away to insure that no damage will occur to the planet's fragile ecosystem, the warp drive will engage and within two minutes the probe will be out racing light itself. It will continue to accelerate to many times the speed of light, and will travel for many centuries before it will allow the occupant to assume control. Records of its course, speed, and departure will not be recorded in its memory banks so it will never be able to return to the planet again. Thus the planet will never have to fear the occupant again.

Chapter 1

Still a kid

The Quad-racer whistled down the dry, rock-strewn riverbed, the young rider expertly directing the machine between the many rocks and scattered bushes. The high-pitched buzz of the engine echoed off the tall, rocky hills and cliffs that dictated the path the river must follow. The machine had been a Christmas present for Tim Randell. Since then, he had been able to spend extended periods of time exploring the mountains he was now leaving behind. He never got tired of exploring the barren, rocky canyons and the hard-to-climb peaks. They held a strange attraction for him. Old Indian legends told of some ancient taboos concerning this part of the range, but over the years even the Indians had forgotten the reasons for their superstitions.

*

As the bike brought him closer to town, his mood slowly darkened. He wondered if all fifteen-year-olds hated to go home. He flashed back to the wonderful days when his family had been together and happy.

I'll never forget the days in Wisconsin, he thought, when Mom and Dad were together, and my big brother Arty was a healthy, fun-loving guy. Arty, how proud I was of him, tall and strong in his uniform. I used to brag about him constantly. Arty was going to fly to glory, driving the enemy into submission with his screaming jet fighter, but now he's lying in a VA hospital, kept alive by machines.

The setting sun started to touch the mountains out to the West as he raced from the desert into town. It's going to be a great evening. Spring is making the nights warm again. He hit the first street, accelerated the Quad full out.

Tim braked the four-wheeler hard, barking the tires as he reached his driveway. He made a tight, sliding, ninety-degree turn, pulled a wheelie, and stopped inches from his garage door. Satisfied, he opened the door and parked his four-wheeler inside, but hesitated entering the house. He knew it would be no different in there than it had been for some time now. His mother would be lying on the couch in an alcoholic stupor. He walked back to the open door and stood watching the sky change colors to the West, as the sun moved farther and farther below the mountains.

He spotted a girl, a couple of blocks away, walking up the street toward him. It was his best friend, Ann. She was a couple of months younger than him, tall and gangly, with pretty green eyes and medium-length blond hair. Tim's mom said she would be a real beauty someday. Tim waved to her and waited.

Tim liked Ann. She was the first friend he made when they moved to Mountain Cove. It was a pleasure to have her as a companion. She was someone who loved to explore like he did. Someone who was a day dreamer like he was. Someone he could always talk to, about anything, whether they agreed or not and laughter was always possible between them.

"Hey, darling," Tim called, as she approached the end of his driveway.

"How was the trip?" Ann asked as she walked toward him.

"Great. I went all the way up the East Branch and then over to Salt Valley. Part of me felt like I wanted to just keep on going."

"That wouldn't solve anything, would it?" Ann said.

"Hell, I don't know. I can't see how I can do any good here."

"Come on Tim, your mother needs you. There's no one else she can count on. You know that," Ann said as she headed into the garage.

"Count on me for what? Shit, I doubt if she even knows who I am anymore." Tim started into the house opening the door to the kitchen for Ann.

"Don't be silly. It's just really hard for her that Arty might be dying. She went through a lot for you guys."

"Yeah, I know, but I wish that damn doctor would have just kept his mouth shut and—"

"And what?" Ann exclaimed, interrupting. "Oh, by the way Mrs. Randell, Arty died a while back, but I thought it would be best if I didn't say anything to upset you."

"Okay, okay, I get your point. It's just Mom wasn't doing too bad until he called and warned us what to expect."

"I take it she isn't any better then?" Ann said as they went into the kitchen.

"Look for yourself," he said and headed for his bedroom.

*

He stood looking in the mirror. He was trying to formulate the problem he was facing and sometimes looking at himself in the mirror made him think better. For a moment, he scrutinized his features. He had light brown, thick hair. His light brown eyes were okay, but he didn't have dark, full eyelashes like Ann. He watched his nose as he rotated his head. It wasn't too big, just sharp. His mouth was kind of thin, but he had a great smile and a strong chin. Generally, his features and that he was six feet tall and fairly muscular were all satisfactory to him. He was a guy so he didn't have to be too particular. Anyway, that's what Ann was always telling him. Despite how close they were, he still didn't really trust her at times. She might be putting him on or she might not.

"Did you notice the dogs barking?" Ann asked, walking in.

"What dogs? What's that got to do with anything?"

"I don't know, I was just wondering. My brother's dog has been yapping all day, and my dad is getting pissed. Brillo Pad has been acting up too, prancing around, pawing the ground like crazy. I called the vet and he said not to worry. If she was sick, she wouldn't be so hyped up, she'd be laying down."

"Your horse has always been tough to handle. That's why I gave her the name."

"And she thanks you, I'm sure. What's weird, though, is the vet has had a lot of calls today. Everyone's animals are spooked, but he can't think of anything that would cause it."

"They've spent too much time around people, and they're finally cracking," Tim said.

"Oh, ha ha, and how long are you going to continue to admire yourself? I'm sick of looking at you already. I think I'll cook something and see if your mom will eat."

"Yeah, go ahead. I don't know if it'll do any good, but you're welcome to try."

Tim picked up the picture of Arty he kept on his dresser. It was taken just after his brother left flight school. Arty was handsome, his features smooth and rounded, whereas Tim's were sharper. Arty was, at the time, about the same height Tim was now, but a few pounds heavier. That was the strange part. The last time Tim had seen his big brother—before the crash—Arty towered over him. Tim was only nine and Arty was already full-grown. After that, as Tim grew, Arty was mostly flat on his back. For a while Arty was able to sit in a wheelchair, but even then his withered body needed to be strapped in and it gave him the appearance of an elf. The last four or five years, Tim could easily pick him up and carry him.

After they moved to California things got better for a while. Arty came to live with them, accepting his situation with grace and dignity. It was a full-time job for his mother, but Arty made it worth it. He was cheerful and his voice was loving and reassuring. He had learned to make the most of his situation. His useless body didn't interfere with his brilliant mind, but eventually it started to weaken and a year ago Arty had to return to the hospital. Now he was staying alive only with mechanical assistance and that would soon end according to the doctors.

Tim decided to quit torturing himself. He put the picture down and headed for the shower. When he stepped back out of his bathroom, Ann was just returning to the bedroom.

"I got her to eat a tiny bit, but that's about it. She's really out of it, Tim. You've got to do something."

"What? You give me a good suggestion and I'll hop right to it. Believe me, I will."

"I don't know, but there has to be some relatives, somebody."

"Mom's family is all dead, and I have no idea where Dad or anybody from his side is."

"You never told me why he ran out on you guys."

"I don't remember too much. I was really young when Arty left. I know my dad was really proud of Arty, and I guess a little jealous."

"Why was he jealous?"

"Oh, that was something my mother used to kid him about. I guess he was a pilot and flew a bomber. It flew really slow compared to Arty's jet. Anyway, one thing I do remember was Dad telling Mom not to worry because the U.S. Navy was so powerful that nothing would happen to Arty. She was really worried when Arty left, but my dad just kept guaranteeing her he would come back okay.

"I sure remember the day the two men in uniforms came though, it was horrible. My dad wasn't at home, and my mom wouldn't go to the door, so I had to. They said that they had a message from Arty so I didn't think anything was wrong. Those poor guys, they had to go into my mother's bedroom. She was sitting in the corner, frozen stiff, crying. I didn't know why she was so scared, but she knew something was wrong. At first I didn't know what was happening, but the way my mother was acting, it made me get scared. When my father came home he told me Arty's plane had been shot down and Arty was hurt really bad. My mom was screaming at him, saying it was his fault for letting Arty go in the first place. He left the house and came back a couple of times that evening, but she kept screaming at him. When I got up the next morning, he was gone. That's the last time I ever saw him."

"It sounds like your mom kind of overreacted."

"I guess, but I still think he shouldn't have just run away. We needed him more than ever and he just took off. It was too much for Mom to handle all by herself. Look what's happened to her. My mom's tried so hard. You know the double shock of Arty and then Dad was really tough on her in the beginning, but she took it in stride and was there for Arty and me. When Arty was living with us she was happy. You remember that?"

"Oh, yeah, your mom's sweet. She's so much stronger than mine. She'd never let my dad push her around like my mom does."

"I knew she was lonely though," said Tim. "I used to hear her crying at night sometimes, but she always toughed it out. It's just since Arty had to go back that she's been acting this way. I always figured she'd be okay, she'd snap out of it, but since the doctor told her that Arty was slipping away, I don't think she cares anymore."

"Well, tomorrow we'll do something!" stated Ann.

"Yeah, tomorrow's always a better day, isn't it?" Tim sneered.

"Hey! Look, jerk, tomorrow is the day we have to do something, otherwise you're going to lose her."

"I still have no idea what we can do though," Tim said in anguish.

"I don't know either, but we will get some help for her."

"Yeah, you're right, but let's get going. I don't want to think about this anymore today, okay?" Tim said.

As they were leaving the room he glanced over to his desk. Tears came to his eyes.

"Why the hell do I keep that damn thing?"

"What thing?"

"That thing, the reminder." Tim pointed at the model of the F-14 Tomcat his father built when Arty was on the carrier. So many times Tim had wanted to smash it, but it remained on his desk undamaged.

"Why the hell hadn't Arty's F-14 been so tough?" Tim asked as he turned and walked out of the room.

*

Tim and Ann had made plans to meet some friends farther down in the cove. On the two-mile trip down the hill they continually commented on the fact that all the dogs in town were barking.

When they arrived at their destination, one of their friends, Paul was struggling with his German shepherd. The dog was pulling on its leash to the point of choking itself and no amount of action from Paul could calm it.

"Paul!" shouted Tim. "Can't you keep that dog quiet? He's got all the others going nuts."

"He must smell poon-tang and wants to get loose," replied Paul.

"I hope he can handle it by instinct. If he needs your advice, he'll get no sat—is—fac—tion!" Tim said, mimicking The Rolling Stones.

"I get no rest, man, no rest at all," Paul shot back.

"You get nowhere is what I hear," giggled Ann. "Man, what is with the goddamn dogs?"

"Got me," Tim said. "Maybe the coyotes are around tonight? They like to upset the peace and tranquility every chance they get."

*

Tim and Ann crossed the street to the park to get away from the commotion that started when Paul's dog attacked a girl's dog.

"Until tonight that shepherd was the friendliest of dogs," Tim said to Ann as they sat on one of the park tables.

"I saw the Deputy today," Tim commented.

"Where? It's been a while since he's been around," Ann replied.

"Coming out of the Walls."

Ann shuddered. "It figures that creepy dog would be in that creepy place."

"Just because your horse won't go in there doesn't make it creepy."

"Hey, Brillo is still better than Mechanimal.

Mechanimal was the term she used for Tim's Quad-racer. Their argument was as follows: the horse didn't break down, but the Quad-racer didn't poop all over, gas was cheaper than hay and the machine was faster, but the horse could go more places, et cetera.

"Yeah, but that horse hates me," declared Tim.

"Yeah, well, you don't complain too much when you climb on behind me because the bike can't go any farther," Ann finally added.

"But the stupid horse wouldn't go into the Walls," countered Tim.

"Stupid? My dear, she's just smart," Ann said. "That place is spooky, even the dogs don't like it in there, except for weirdo Deputy that is."

The Walls, as Tim had named the place was a deep canyon cut down through the lower mountains by running water. Heavy rains would soak the mountains above and as the water poured down on its way to the valley below it cut through a ridge, sculpting the Walls. They rose vertically to a hundred feet in some places. The bottom had small pools full of sand and many rock waterfalls that the moving water had shaped over hundreds of thousands of years. The canyon was dry most of the time, but during periods of rain it would fill with rushing water. It was about two miles up the riverbed from the town. It was a cool, quiet, beautiful place. Large pieces of the rock walls had split and fallen making the terrain jumbled and chaotic for its entire three hundred yard length. From the pools you had to look straight up to see the sky.

Tim would've spend more time there, but the animals made such a fuss about going into the canyon it made Ann nervous. Tim had to admit that he had been slightly apprehensive once or twice. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he had the feeling the rocks were listening to him.

Of course, I'm just being silly, he had told himself.

Deputy Dog was the exception of the animals. He would eagerly accompany them into the Walls. The Deputy, as Ann called him, was a stray that had been around for a few years. He was a strange dog because he didn't bark and he didn't beg. When Arty was living with them, the Deputy would sit out on the back patio with Arty. After Arty left, Tim would often see him around his house, but the Deputy was coaxed in only once. He sniffed around, went into each room briefly, then went back out the front door and left. Tim tried many times after that, but the dog would never enter again.

His eating habits were peculiar. Even a juicy piece of meat didn't spark any great enthusiasm in him. He would calmly take the meat and disappear to eat it secretly. He didn't bother with the other dogs and they totally ignored him; not with any distain, but as if he just didn't exist. Also, Brillo Pad was not nervous with him around as she was with the other dogs. Tim had the feeling that he was an observer or a spy. Ann, of course, told him how silly that was.

*

Tim had gone silent and let Ann talk for a while. He couldn't get his mind off Arty and his mom. When Ann realized he wasn't really listening she became quiet too.

After a while, she asked him, "Worried about them, aren't you?"

"More like scared. It's like when the soldiers came to our house years ago. My mother's drinking like that because she's scared. She knows Arty's not going to make it so she's going to give up too. I don't know what to do. I can feel myself being all alone real soon," lamented Tim.

His eyes started to fill with tears, and his mind flashed back to Wisconsin. He was racing along the ice on his skates with Arty close behind.

*

"Look out! I'm going to get you. I'm going to get you," shouted Arty. Tim's small legs were pumping like crazy and completely out of control. His mom and dad were standing in a snow bank along the skating rink, and they were laughing, cheering the game on.

"Faster, Tim, faster! Don't let him catch you. Faster," his father shouted.

*

Tim returned to the present. "It's so unfair," he spoke softly.

"About Arty and your mom?"

"Yeah, I feel so helpless. I need to do something tomorrow—you're right about that—but what? I'm fifteen in a grown-up world. I don't have anyone to help." Tim finished with a big sigh.

"I help, don't I?" Ann sounded hurt.

"Oh, of course, but you're also just fifteen and living at your house is no picnic, I know that. I don't think I could put up with what you do."

"What the hell can I do about it?" said Ann. "I'm stuck just like you. You don't have anyone. I don't have anyone who cares. I wonder which is worse."

At Ann's house a woman was a second-class person. Ann's complaints or any thoughts of elevating her position were not acknowledged.

Ann always set her sights high. All her mother said when she expressed her wishes was, "Honey, you'll just frustrate yourself with those impossible dreams."

"I wonder what's out there," she said, looking up at the stars.

"Whatever it is it's too far away, and we'll never get the chance to go there," said Tim. "What brought this on?"

"I'm just thinking exciting thoughts. Did Arty ever talk about flying?"

"Oh, sure. I think that was the hardest thing for him to accept—that he couldn't fly anymore. He told me speed is the greatest thrill, the best drug. Arty says that's what the term rush means to him. That is what's so unfair because now he can't even move."

*

Tim got up and walked over on the grass and laid down, Ann following. The grass was cool and comfortable, and the breeze was sweet and refreshing. It would have been one of those perfect nights, but the dogs continued to howl and yelp. In the far reaches of the din the coyotes joined in the confusion.

"Those dogs are scared shitless!" exclaimed Tim.

"Oh, come on, what could scare them that much?"

"I don't know, I wonder if we should be scared too?" he whispered.

The barking started to subside almost as if on cue. In a matter of moments the din was gone. Tim sat up and listened. There was not a sound as the insects had fallen silent too. The group of kids across the street had noticed the silence too and they in turn had quit talking.

"What's going on?" Ann asked.

"I don't know, this is weird, man," Tim said as he thought he detected a far away rumbling. He lay back down on the grass putting his ear next to the ground and he thought he heard the earth sort of sigh.

Chapter 2

Earthquake

And then the earth broke! In a sudden, tremendous release of energy the solid ground that had always been the stable base of everything real or imaginary leaped into motion. One-second Ann and Tim were lying on the cool grass and the next moment they were thrown violently sideways, then thrown violently upward. They were temporarily suspended in the air and then they were slammed back to the ground. Tim was disoriented immediately. He tried to get to his feet, but as he tumbled and bounced he had no idea which way was up or which way was down. He was slammed onto his hands and knees, but when he applied pressure to his legs to gain control the ground dropped again. Unimaginable power was being released causing deafening sounds of thundering, roaring, and crashing.

"Unreal! Fricken unreal!" Tim realized he was shouting at the top of his lungs, but the noise was so overpowering he could barely hear himself.

He had given up trying to stand and was in a semi-state of panic and delight. He was watching the pizza parlor across the street. One moment it was below him, the next it was above. Then it collapsed in a shower of dust and sparks. The trees were being whipped back-and-forth and one was thrown completely out of the ground.

The animals had known. They had sensed this, but how, was Tim's first cognizant thought?

The violent shaking decreased somewhat, and he was able to gain some control with the ground. Ann was lying flat on her back a few feet away. He managed to grab her and felt that she was limp. He felt for her face and turned it toward himself. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open, spittle at one corner.

"You okay? Please be okay, please," Tim pleaded.

He didn't get an answer at first, but she finally blinked and was looking at him with a questioning expression. She was confused, but okay.

Huge fireballs shooting into the night sky brought him all the way back to reality. Ruptured gas lines mating with severed electrical lines were producing huge, fiery explosions all around them. The broken power lines crackled and danced like they possessed life. The earth was still emitting growls and rumbling like it had been mortally wounded.

*

The valley where they lived rested at mostly sea level behind a coastal mountain range. It was known for its sand, swaying palms, golf courses, tennis courts, swimming pools, nightclubs, and tan people. It was surrounded by mountains some of which rose to eleven thousand feet. The mountains kept most of the rain out and the heat in. With the clear skies and warm temperatures came the people.

At the base of the mountains to the North a line of stately palm trees hardly catch a glance. They grow there because a crack in the earth allows moisture to seep up from below and nourish them. The crack is a seam between two of the giant plates that form the Earth's crust. The plates of the crust travel on top of the liquid core of the planet, maybe a few inches a year. Most of the time, these plates slip by each other, but sometimes they catch here and there. When they catch a portion of the Earth's crust stretches. When it has stretched too far something breaks and the result is an earthquake.

The plates below this valley had been stretched to their limits. When they broke they produced an earthquake of tremendous magnitude. It was recorded as an 8.8 on the Richter scale. The valley of fun and sun was now a graveyard.

*

Through the noise of the disaster, explosions, ominous rumblings from the tortured earth, another sound was evident. Screams and wails of anguish were coming from all directions. The human suffering had begun.

"What happened? Oh my God, what's happening?" Ann shouted as the earthquake's intensity subsided. Tim was holding her, and she was shaking badly.

"A damn earthquake! Unreal, a fuckin earthquake!" he shouted. "Outta sight! Shit, I don't believe it! Did you feel the power? Pizza Palace just fell apart! Man, what a trip!" Tim was both elated and scared, but mostly excited now that the quake was over.

"You sure it's not a war? Oh geez, I'm scared Tim. What is happening?"

"It was an earthquake. I'm sure. See, it's all over. We're okay. It's over."

Tim and Ann were free of injury, but when they crossed the street to the fallen pizza place the situation was far different. It was a grim scene and the first time either Tim or Ann had seen death. It was eerie because moments before everything had been normal, but in such a short time, everything had been reduced to rubble. Now there were the injured, the dying, and the dead, all of them lit by the fires burning around them.

*

Sometime after midnight, Ann and Tim started toward the top of the cove and their homes, scared of what they would find there. Ann had been strangely calm and remote since the quake, but the continual aftershocks made her freeze every time they happened. Half a block from the park, the street they had taken disappeared. The ground had split and the far side had fallen twenty feet. The split continued as far as they could see in both directions. They worked their way to the left for a hundred yards before the fissure offered a way down and across. All around them, all the structures were destroyed, many of them still burning. Many people were hurt or dead, but the two kids had no time—or will—to stop and help. What mattered most to them lay a long way ahead.

People dazed and in a panic constantly confronted them, begging and pleading for this and that, but there was nothing the kids could do. Ann kind of wanted to stop, but Tim pushed on. All about them terrified people wandered, some with meager belongings, some with nothing, not even their senses. The ultimate disaster had occurred, and all order had disappeared. Thousands of people were experiencing it together.

What would become of them? Tim thought.

*

It took six hours to travel the distance back to the top of the cove. All along the way it had been the same: houses destroyed, the land twisted at crazy angles, fires. The worst was the suffering. The survivors were confused, and there was nowhere to turn for help. It was obvious that police, fire fighting, and medical assistance were first, inadequate, and second, stranded. Any kind of transportation was impossible. The quake made every street impassable to anything other than foot travel, and even that was difficult and dangerous. The earth was still shaking from continual aftershocks. With so many fissures in the ground the earth could swallow a person at any moment. At one point, they witnessed where part of a house had slid into one of the cracks. Three people were trying to salvage some articles from the house and had made the mistake of climbing down into the fissure. A sudden aftershock causing a collapse of dirt and rock spelled their doom. It was traumatic for Tim and Ann to watch the dirt cover them and not be able to help.

*

It was getting lighter as they finally arrived at Ann's house. The eastern sky was turning a delicate rose color with shafts of deeper red probing up into the dark sky. Tim had never seen a sunrise like that before. He realized all the smoke and dust in the air was responsible. The rising sun was lighting up just a sliver of the horizon. Not much of the light was able to penetrate the dirty air. The mountains to the West were dark and completely hidden. The mountains to the South, where the Walls were located, were dark too, except some of the dawn had reached the Walls. Tim strained his eyes at the canyon. He could just barely see the top of its outline, a soft blue, jagged line. Tim looked quickly to the East where the Sun would be coming up.

The light is red, no pink, maybe a little on the orange side, but definitely not blue.

He rubbed his tired eyes and looked toward the Walls again. There is a soft blue light coming out of the Walls.

Yes. . .no. . . maybe? He squinted. Then he concentrated and focused his eyes as well as he could. He was sure that he could see some blue, but then again he wasn't positive. He blinked again, but he still wasn't sure. He stared at the canyon for a few more moments, but the red from the sunrise was capturing the mountains.

I'm probably imagining it. This has been the longest night of my life, and imagining a few things should be no surprise.

*

Ann and her family lived in a large, stone and reinforced concrete Spanish bungalow. The quake had damaged the house severely, but miraculously all her family had escaped serious injury, receiving only minor cuts and bruises. Her brothers were in the swimming pool when the quake struck. The pool was dug into a hill that fell away. It broke open, spilling the water and its contents into neighbor's yard below.

Sammy said he had been on some good rides—Disneyland, Magic Mountain, "But nothing like that!" he explained wide-eyed.

Brillo Pad was safe and only had a light coat of dust to show for the ordeal. She was calmly eating flowers from the side of the neighbor's house. Before the quake the animals had sensed in some way the forthcoming event and had been terrified. Now that it was over the animals were calm. The unending aftershocks did not seem to bother the horse or any of the other animals.

"How did they know?" Tim asked as he watched the horse.

"Who?" Ann asked.

"The critters!" Tim replied quickly. "I can't believe I was so stupid!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The animals! Come on, think! They knew the quake was coming. We had a warning, but we were too stupid to realize it. I mean, shit, think of all the people that got wrecked because they didn't pay any attention to the animals."

"Well, just because some dogs barked—"

"Barked? You call that just barking? Something was wrong and they knew it! I don't know, but it just seems so incredibly stupid that we didn't pay attention."

"You already said that!" Ann snapped.

"Well, I think that maybe we'd better start to pay better attention, don't you?"

"Oh, Tim, don't be so dramatic. The worst is over. We'll be okay now." Ann was trying to lessen the tension, but she had been listening to Tim. I do remember reading about animals behaving strangely before an earthquake. We had a warning, and had indeed ignored it. We have been dumb," she admitted to herself. "We'll be okay," she reminded Tim. "Please?"

*

It was only six blocks from Ann's house to Tim's, but now it seemed like miles. They had gotten to within half a block before they could see the house. The second half of the block had tilted away from where they stood, and Tim's house had slid off its foundation, though it had moved only a few feet. It was twisted and sitting at a strange angle. Terror gripped him because the last memories of his once happy family were in that house and now the house lay damaged before him. Although the house had moved, it was mostly intact. The garage had separated from the house, but had not collapsed, and there had been no fire.

All the doors were jammed, so Tim entered through his broken bedroom window. Inside, the house was a shambles. Most of the walls had come apart and pieces of the ceiling covered everything. Tim's mother was still lying on the couch where they had left her.

Tim rushed to her, followed closely by Ann. A few pieces of plaster had fallen on her, but she had suffered no apparent injuries.

"Come on, Mom, got to get you out of this mess before it all falls down."

She moaned slightly as he picked her up, but otherwise gave no response.

"Shit, she's so drunk, she slept through the whole damn thing," he mumbled as he made his way outside with her cradled in his arms.

Ann brought the cushions from the couch along and arranged them on the front lawn for Tim to place his mother on. He wiped as much of the dust off her as he could, then returned to the house to retrieve whatever was worth saving.

*

He was inside only a couple of minutes when he heard Ann scream.

He rushed back outside.

Ann was kneeling over his mother, shaking her.

"What the hell's wrong?" he shouted as he ran to them.

"She's not breathing," cried Ann. "Damnit, she quit breathing."

"Bullshit! She was okay a second ago," Tim cried and reached down to check her.

"What the hell? Oh Christ, this can't be!"

He bent over her and put his face down to hers and put his hand on her chest. He couldn't feel her breath, and her chest was still.

"Mom! Damn it! Daaaamnit! Wake up!" he pleaded.

He performed mouth-to-mouth, then pounded on her chest. He repeated his clumsy attempts to revive her repeatedly.

Ann held her wrist, trying to find a pulse. She was crying softly. Tim's mother was like a sister to her. She had always been a confidant, a friend, and was always encouraging. Ann was sure she was dead now.

Tim continued his lifesaving attempts for a while longer, but his hope and energy ran out. He remained kneeling over her body for some time, then stood up and walked into the remains of the house.

Ann stayed, holding the dead woman's hand. She was afraid to let go. When she did, it would seem so final. For the first time since the disaster struck, Ann had time to really cry.

Tim wandered through the rubble of his house in a daze, finally sitting on the couch where he had found his mother. Inside his head the thoughts made no sense. He would flash to this, then to that.

Arty, Mom, school, fires burning, friends, fun, sadness, death. It went on and on, until he snapped upright and said, "Shit!"

He took a slow look around the demolished house and the ruined belongings. Through the front window he could see Ann sitting with his dead mother.

What is to become of me? Where will I go?

He happened to glance down to the base of the couch. There among the fallen pieces of plaster, next to the ashtray and bottle of whiskey was a prescription bottle. Tim recognized it as his mother's sleeping pills. It was empty and it had been full just the day before. Mother Nature had not been responsible for her death. Thousands had lost what one had not wanted.

*

Tim and Ann sat at the end of their block which was fifteen feet higher than it used to be. He remembered the days when he had to walk half a mile to the nearest mountains to get a good view of the city. Now, from the end of his block there it all was.

"How convenient," he said.

"What's convenient?" Ann asked.

"Ah, I've just been trying to find something good out of all this."

She looked at him with a quizzical, challenging look on her face.

"I don't know if you would appreciate my conclusion."

"Try me, just for the hell of it," she said with her head cocked and a scowl on her face.

"Well, I used to think this town was so boring. You remember, nothing natural. All the blocks rectangular, the streets all straight, flat, all the trees planted in straight lines. You remember what I always thought. Nothing wild or beautiful like the mountains or desert. What the place needed was a little jazzing up." Tim swept his arm around. "Nothing boring about it now, huh?"

"How can you think like that?" Ann asked astonished. "Aren't you scared? Jesus, Tim, I've always known you were a little off the beam, but I hope you don't consider this fun?"

"Got to look forward, not back."

"The future looks real bright. You're right, as usual," she said with a sneer.

"At least there is a future," Tim countered quickly. "You and I have been somewhat lucky, don't you think?"

Ann put her head on her knees and looked straight ahead. "I guess." She looked back at Tim. "Are you really looking ahead, or just can't handle looking back?"

"I don't know? I mean, I suppose I should be really affected. No, that's not the word. Uhhmm, traumatized? Yeah, traumatized is the right one. . . but if I—"

"Affected? Traumatized? What are those words supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know, like I should be crying or something, and um. . .I don't know, just some kind of mourning or something like that, I guess. I mean, my ah, uh, my mother. My mother just died." Tim wrapped his arms around himself and sighed. "Just a little while ago, my mother died." Tim sighed again and was silent for a few moments. "I've known her all my life and now she's gone. For as long as I live, she'll never be there again."

"You should cry. You've got every right," said Ann.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't know."

"Well, I think that you have a lot to be sad about."

"Well, sad is okay, but anything more? There wouldn't really be any purpose to it. Mom's dead and that's that! She was killed in an earthquake." Tim knew the empty pill bottle would forever be his secret. Maybe that was why he was able to handle her death so calmly. She had been in such misery here and now she was someplace else.

"I feel so bad for you, you don't know," said Ann.

"Save your sympathy because there's a lot of people that are going to need it more. It's one hell of a mess, and I think the worst is still to come."

"Phew, if you're right, I hate to think about it."

*

It was late in the afternoon when Tim and Ann—with the help of her father and two brothers—had brought his mother's body to an emergency aid station. The military had been quick to establish such places. The earthquake was centered in the valley, and damage outside was minimal. Surprisingly, the great bureaucracy of the government was beginning to handle the situation. Every possible man and machine was converging on the area.

Because of the number of the dead and for health reasons, the burial system was as follows: The family and friends were notified by loudspeaker as to the time of the removal of the deceased, the corpse was tagged with a number, and the location of the burial would be supplied later, then a chaplain said a short speech for each helicopter load, about twenty bodies. As each helicopter lifted off, a group of people would salute its departure with wails and sobs. The group would then disperse and make room for the next one. The magnitude of the disaster had left people with only enough strength to mourn those close to them.

As the ship carrying his mother grew small in the sky, Tim felt a strange power flow through him. He was now a survivor, one that was left to carry on.

*

Tim made his way back to his house to collect his things. He was going with Ann and her family to live with some of their relatives. There was no hurry, though, because the authorities said it would be at least four days before they could open any roads to the point of travel.

Tim stood in his bedroom doorway, surveying the damage and trying to decide what to take. His belongings weren't in good shape. His inexpensive stereo was worth even less now. His bedroom door had come off its hinges and had made him the proud owner of two speakers and nothing else. The guitar, which he had never mastered like he had vowed to, was sticking out from under his desk, the neck broken. It was for the best, though, because when he had decided to learn to play it, there had been numerous threats on his life.

At least now the music from the guitar would be as good as from the stereo. The dream had come true, He chuckled when he thought about it.

His golf clubs were jammed between his bed and the wall. He pulled the bed back and removed them. Half of them were broken. "No loss there," he said to himself. "They've pissed me off for the last time. Touché!"

In the center of the room, Tim had hung a mobile that Ann made for him. She made it with no special pattern or objects. "It's just balanced out," she had explained. It had a mummified lizard, an unused condom, a small, empty picture frame with, "My only true friend," inscribed on the bottom, and numerous other silly objects. The lowest level of the mobile had a collection of braided loops of yarn. Caught in the loops, at the proper angle to simulate flight, was his F-14 model.

That damn thing survives no matter what. For the first time since Arty was hurt, I have no urge to smash it. Too much has happened to worry about things past. Besides, Arty was just in the wrong F-14. What happened to him was no fault of this little plane. He left it where it was and turned away.

He returned to the living room and pulled the couch over to the large window and sat down. The sun had dropped behind the mountains to the West and soon it would be dark. He had been awake for more than a day, and this was the first time he had taken a breather. He laid his head back to rest awhile.

Tim was numbed by the quake. In the past few hours, he had witnessed the complete destruction of his home, of his town. Many of the people he had known were dead or missing. He had carried his mother's body to be buried in a place not of her choosing. He had listened to a tribute to her, meant for convenience, and then had said goodbye with turbines screaming and dust flying. He was full of confusion and grief. The hectic day had taken its toll on the young man, and deep sleep captured him quickly.

Chapter 3

Tony & Cyclops

Something wet crossing his face woke Tim up. The first thing he was aware of was it had gotten dark. He felt for his light and switched it on. The wetness had come from Deputy Dog licking his face. The dog was sitting a foot from his head, looking straight at him.

"Hey, buddy, glad to see you," he said softly. He didn't want to scare the dog off. The Deputy was never one for physical contact. "Man, I'm glad to see you made it boy. Glad to see you made it."

Tim looked at his watch. He had been asleep for hours, and it wouldn't be long before the sun came up. He had promised Ann that he would come right back. She would certainly be worried by now, so he jumped up and began collecting his things. He packed an assortment of clothes in his large camping bag. He got his portable radio and all the extra batteries. Then he filled his mountain pack with as much canned and dry food as it would take. He went to his mother's room to get the money stashed there, along with the bank books and the folder with all their records. He carefully placed the picture of his mom, Arty, and himself in his smaller pack. In the nightstand next to her bed, he ran across the pistol she kept there. Without thinking much about it, he slipped it into the small backpack. The Deputy stayed right at his side.

Out in the garage their van had been bounced around, but other than some scratches, was okay. The Quad-racer was upside down. The gas had run out, but it was also okay.

Quads spend plenty of time upside down, but you can always drive them away.

The Deputy was pawing at something in the corner, and Tim went over to see what it was. It turned out to be his pellet rifle. He was really loaded down already and didn't see any need for it. He turned to walk away, but the Deputy grabbed his pant leg and tried to pull him back. The dog had been shadowing him constantly, and now this strange behavior?

The quake must have really shook him up, but it doesn't make any sense. The other dogs were now acting like nothing had happened.

Tim had to pull away from the Deputy to get out of the garage. The dog was barking and growling, and going constantly back to the pellet rifle. Tim walked away from the garage, and the dog finally gave up and followed.

Tim walked into the backyard and looked toward the Walls. It was still dark, and now there was no doubt about it, someone was in the canyon. It wasn't completely discernible, but there was a light coming from the Walls.

Maybe a campfire? But the light has a strange blue shade to it, a sort of neon quality. A neon light in that canyon doesn't make much sense, though. Any people in the canyon now don't make much sense either. All the food, water, medical attention, and shelter are the other way. The trip up there must have been one hell of a risky one too, with all the tremors. He shuddered when he thought about being in the Walls during the quake.

The Deputy started to growl. At first, Tim couldn't figure out why, but then he heard voices approaching from around the house behind his.

Some of the neighbors coming back for their stuff, no doubt, just like I have.

A light was coming around the corner of the house, and Deputy was growling louder now.

"Hush, damn it," said Tim.

The light moved past the house, and Tim saw two figures behind the beam, moving toward him. They closed the distance to him and suddenly he recognized them. It was a man who lived with his sister a few blocks over, and Tony, one of the town punks.

Tony was the resident bully, but a couple of months ago he picked on the wrong person. Since his drubbing, he had been quiet and less threatening, but as he spoke to Tim now, the old menacing tone was back.

"Hey, Tim, old buddy, how's your mom?" Tony's laugh was sinister. "I hope the earthquake didn't spill all her booze. It's been tough getting to the liquor store lately."

"Timmy, what'cha got there?" the other man asked.

Oh man, this guy is scary. I can't remember his name, but the neighborhood kids call him Cyclops. He came toward Tim with a large knife gleaming in his hand. Behind Cyclops, Tony came carrying a long gun. Tim's mouth went dry. Deputy Dog was growling. The hair on the dog's back was standing up. It would do him no good to run because the pack on his back was too heavy, and the man would be on him before he could get it off. Cyclops walked up to him and stuck the knife up into Tim's face. The look in his eyes and the sneer on his mouth warned of danger.

"Tony," the man said, half turning back, but not taking his eyes off Tim, "you say this kid's mom is a lush? I sure could use a drink." He turned back toward Tim and moved his face closer, the smell of liquor and bad breath was strong. "Now, kid, which one is your house? I think I'll take a look. Is your old lady there? Maybe I'll say hello."

The man put his free hand down to his crotch and chuckled. He then leaned closer to Tim. "Look, kid, I'm not going to ask you again. Your house?"

Tim turned slightly and pointed straight back to the wrecked house, and the man pushed past him. Tim's eyes went to Tony. The gun Tony carried was a shotgun. No question about that because Tim was looking straight into the barrel.

"Hey, Timmy, how come you're not laughing at me now, huh?" mocked Tony. "You sure laughed when that asshole friend of yours got the best of me." The volume of Tony's voice rose. "All you little creeps thought it was great, didn't you?" Tony shouted. "Didn't you?" Tony shouted even louder.

"I—" Tim tried to respond.

"Shut your fucking mouth!" screamed Tony. "I took care of that big-shot friend of yours, and that smart-ass girlfriend of yours is mine now too."

"She's with her parents," stated Tim.

"Bullshit, Timmy, she's my toy now," he bragged. "Things are different now. All the asshole cops and do-gooders are gone. I'm the head motherfucker now!" Tony's laugh bordered on insanity.

Cyclops returned with two bottles of whiskey—one was half-gone already. He gave the bottle to Tony, who took a big swig and shuddered.

"Hey, take a belt, Timmy, old buddy." Tony's rage had dissipated. "Hey, come on, this shit will help your attitude. Times are tough, and they aren't going to get any better, especially for you."

Both men broke out laughing.

"Come on, Timmy, have that drink. This'll be your last chance," Tony said, as he moved closer to Tim, which caused Deputy Dog to emit a deep, menacing growl. Tony quickly shifted the aim of the shotgun from Tim to the dog and fired. The blast and the muzzle flash stunned Tim. Before he could regain his senses, Cyclops grabbed him in a headlock and stuck the knife against his throat.

"Hey, man, look at this damn dog!" shouted Tony.

Cyclops held Tim in the headlock and dragged him to where Tony was shouting.

"What the hell?" exclaimed Cyclops. "Holy shit, Tony! What the fuck kind of dog is that?"

Tim struggled to see what had Cyclops so excited, but the man held him tight.

"I don't believe it! A dog with a metal leg," said Tony. "I wonder whose—"

"Let's get the hell out of here," said Cyclops.

"Oh, what the fuck is your problem man? It can't hurt you," returned Tony.

"I don't like it, okay. It ain't fucking right." Cyclops was getting increasingly excited. "I don't like it," he repeated louder.

"Hey, settle down! I've heard about this kind of shit before," said Tony.

"Where?"

"On TV, man, on the tube. It's like they make robots or some shit," said Tony, proud of his answer.

"Oh great, man, fucking robots! Let's get the hell away from here," pleaded Cyclops.

"No, man, not a whole robot. Like if someone loses an arm or something, and they put a mechanical one back. That's what this dog's got. I'll bet you," said Tony.

"I don't like it. I saw a movie about machine animals that couldn't be killed or nothing. I think we should scram, man." Cyclops was obviously upset and was gulping down whiskey. No matter how hard Tim tried, he could not see the dog.

"Well, this one's dead, and it can't hurt you, you damn sissy," Tony shouted.

"Hey, fuck you! I still say it ain't fuckin' right, man. Look, it isn't even bleeding. What if it wakes up or something?" Cyclops asked.

"Want to see blood? I'll make sure it doesn't ever wake up, chicken-shit," Tony laughed, and another blast from the shotgun shook the air. Tim was still in the grip like vise and could only see straight ahead.

Suddenly, Tony came rushing into his view. Cyclops shone his light on Tony's face. It was white, and his eyes were wide open and scared. "Let's get the fuck outta here," Tony shouted, as he began to run toward the house in front of him.

"I told you, Tony. Man, didn't I fucking tell you something was fucking weird?" exclaimed Cyclops.

"Shut up, asshole! It was just a movie," snarled Tony, but he was scared. Tim could hear it in his voice.

"That's no fucking movie, Tony. That fuckin' dog is the real thing. Shit, man, I saw it, Tony. With my own fuckin' eyes, I saw it," continued Cyclops.

"Hey, shut the fuck up! Just drop it, okay?" shouted Tony over his shoulder. "It's getting light, and I don't want anyone to find my prizes."

*

They walked for about a half-hour, and the sun was just above the horizon. Cyclops brought up the dog a couple of times, but Tony didn't want to discuss it. They led Tim to an old building that was located behind a date and orange grove. Tim never went back there before because it had been a religious cult, and had always been heavily guarded.

As they neared the door to the building, Tim heard what sounded like crying or moaning. Tony shoved him through the door and sent him sprawling to the floor. It was still dark in the room, and as he looked up, he was aware of some people sitting and lying against the opposite wall. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he realized they were women, and they were all naked. They were bound together with ropes around their necks, and their hands and feet were tied.

Suddenly, Tony pulled Tim's head back by his hair, stretching his neck. Tony leaned his knee into Tim's backpack, holding his body down against the floor.

"Are you a virgin, Timmy?" he asked in a calm voice. "How would you like one of my women? Hey, I know how to pick them. My women never say no. When I want to get my rocks off, they're always willing." Tony was obviously enjoying himself.

"How about your girlfriend, Timmy? Does she ever turn you down, or has she even let you? I'll bet she just teases you, huh?" Tony shook his head, mocking concern.

"You poor sap! You've got to know how to treat them, Timmy boy." His tone changed quickly, now threatening. "Make them obey! I'll bet your girlfriend wouldn't turn me down. Hey, Tim, what'cha think? Hey, buddy, come on, what do you think?"

Tony shouted, "Do you think she would say yes?"

He pulled harder on Tim's hair. Tim thought his scalp was going to tear. He was shaking and almost in tears.

"Please, Tony! What do you want? I've never done anything to you. Please, it hurts!"

"You're goddamn right it hurts, and it's going to hurt a hell of a lot more. Now answer my question." Tony continued to pull on Tim's hair. "Do you think your girlfriend would let me fuck her?" Tony was screaming insanely. "Answer me, goddamn it!"

Tim's neck was stretched so far that he could only emit a choking sob. Tony suddenly released him and his head fell to the floor with a thud.

"You're not much on guts, are you, Timmy boy?" He turned to Cyclops. "Do you think it's because his girl won't give him any?"

"Could be," said Cyclops.

Tony walked to the other side of the room, reached down and pulled one of the women up by the rope around her neck. She was just a girl. Her face was bruised, her hair dirty and matted, and her naked body covered with dirt. As Tim looked at her blank face, he gasped in horror. It was Ann! His mind reeled as he started to pick himself up, but Cyclops drove him back to the floor with his foot. Tony was holding Ann up with the rope around her neck, and Tim could see she was choking.

Tony motioned to Cyclops. "Take Timmy's pack off. I want him to be comfortable. He won't learn anything if he can't concentrate."

Cyclops pulled the pack off Tim's back and shoved it at him roughly.

"Hey, Timmy, you know I'm getting kind of tired of your girl. She just isn't that much fun anymore. At first, she was pretty feisty, but she's getting to be a bore. Hey, why don't I fuck her like the dog she is?" Tony was laughing all through his comments.

Tony beckoned to Cyclops, who took the rope around Ann's neck and pulled her down. She sank to the ground, but Cyclops pulled her up, until she was on her hands and knees. Tony pulled at his pants until they came down, all the while tormenting Tim. "Hey, kid, this is the way it's done. The only way to be a man is to make them kneel."

Both Tony and Cyclops howled with delight.

Cyclops had his head thrown back and his mouth open with laughter when the bullet from Tim's pistol struck his jaw, snapping his head around. The second bullet hit Tony in the back of the shoulder, knocking him forward. He shrieked with pain and surprise.

Tim got up and stood over Tony, with the pistol pointed at his face. Tony was pleading, and Tim was about to pull the trigger, but something made him stop.

I'm not a killer. Let someone else deal with him.

He had to pick Ann up because she had remained kneeling during the gun shots. He looked into her eyes, but she didn't seem to recognize him. For the second time since the disaster, he cried. His grief was cut short by the cries of the other hostages. He untied the remaining women. There were four of them, or rather three—one was just a girl, even younger than Ann. One of the women then turned to help the others.

Tim took a shirt from his pack and stuffed it into the wound on Tony's back. Tony was in a great deal of pain, and Tim was not the least bit gentle. The leadership quality had quickly disappeared from Tony, just like when Stan had kicked his ass.

Two of the women approached Tony with vengeance on their minds. One of them picked up the shotgun and aimed it at Tony, but Tim intervened. Tony was grateful and didn't hesitate to show it. Tim checked on the Cyclops, but there was no need because the first shot had killed him.

Tony was crawling toward the door and trying to find some sympathy from anyone who would listen. Tim walked to the door to block his path.

"Hey, Tim, god it hurts! Please help me. I didn't mean it. You just don't understand. Nobody's ever liked me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please help me," Tony blubbered.

"You are a disgusting piece of shit, Tony. Now shut your goddamn mouth. I don't want to hear any more out of you," Tim snarled at him.

"Please, Tim, you've got to help me!"

The statement infuriated Tim. He felt his anger rising. "Shut the fuck up, Tony. I'm warning you," he said, taking the pistol out of his pocket.

"Somebody help me! I don't want to die! Pleeaase!" howled Tony.

"You're a coward, Tony," Tim said, as he raised the pistol and pointed it at him. "If I hear one more word out—"

"Oh man, don't kill me," Tony sobbed. "Oh, please. You can't do this, you can't do this, please." Tony's voice trailed off as he looked at the pistol in Tim's hand. He was begging silently, looking Tim straight in the eyes. "Don't, don't," he sobbed quietly.

"Shit, you're not worth the bullet," Tim said as he lowered the gun. "Just a piece of garbage."

Ann was still incoherent. Attempts by Tim and one of the women had no effect on her. The woman explained that Tony had unleashed his fury primarily on Ann. The two men had abused the other women, but Ann had been their main target. She introduced herself as Dr. Susan Whitcomb and said Ann's horrors went even deeper. A young boy had been brought to the house with Ann. The woman was sure it was Ann's brother, and the description she gave Tim confirmed it was Sammy. Tony and the Cyclops had killed the boy—in front of Ann—for fun.

"She deserves justice," said the woman. She took the shotgun and checked the chamber to see if it had a shell. Satisfied it would fire, she walked over to Ann. She pushed her up into a sitting position and placed the shotgun against her shoulder. The woman grasped Ann's right hand and moved it up to the trigger guard. Helping Ann hold the gun, the woman then swiveled Ann around so the shotgun was pointed at Tony.

Tony's face went blank. The woman worked one of Ann's fingers into the trigger guard and pulled. The blast in the small room was deafening. The woman and Ann were knocked backward, and Tony died.

Tim cradled Ann, and after a few moments, she began to whimper. The whimper grew to a sob, then the sob to a body-racking cry. Her emotions spilled out, released by violence as harsh as the violence that had held her prisoner.

One of the hostages returned with an Army patrol. It seemed that Tony's reign of terror hadn't gone unnoticed. The lieutenant in charge said there were numerous outlaw groups operating in the quake area. Considering the absence of any real law looting and crime were to be expected, but some of the atrocities committed were unimaginable.

The lieutenant had radioed for air evacuation, and shortly they would be transported to an aid station.

*

Tim argued and pleaded with the soldiers to let him stay, but it seemed that a person of his age had no right to choose where he wanted to be. The young were considered helpless and therefore must be protected. That was the lieutenant's explanation anyway.

*

Tim had no option but to run off. He ran about half a mile from the choppers. He had nothing to carry and soon outdistanced the two soldiers sent after him. They didn't seem to have their hearts in the chase and soon gave up. Tim went a little farther and then sat down watching the choppers being loaded.

After all the personnel and equipment were aboard and as the turbine engines wound up, Tim felt a terrible loneliness grip him.

"I wonder if I'll ever see Ann again?" he said softly.

The engines were at full pitch when the lieutenant appeared at the door of the lead machine. He jumped to the ground and pulled Tim's packs and a duffel bag with him. He carried the bags about thirty feet from the helo and laid them on the ground. He waved to Tim, then walked back to the helicopter and jumped in. The two ships lifted into the air in a cloud of dust.

"Good luck to us both my friend," Tim said quietly as he started toward his things. As he went to the packs he tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do next. The lieutenant had called it straight when he said it was crazy to want to stay because there was nothing left there.

Tim inspected his packs. Nothing was missing. Even the pistol was there. A small note said, "Take care, you fool!" The Army had donated a medical kit, a water purifying kit, and some rations. Tim sorted through the things and removed what he didn't need to lighten his load.

It's funny, two days ago I was miserable because of Mom's plight and Arty's worsening health. At the time, I could not have imagined things could get any worse. What a surprise I've gotten! The world I've known is in shambles. My mother is gone, and Ann? It scares me to think about her and what she must have gone through. The brutality that's been inflicted on her. The dead look in her eyes. I wonder if I've lost my best friend too.

The soldiers had found some bodies a short distance from the building at the commune. Ann's mother and brother were among them. Tim was constantly fighting the rage that was smoldering inside. He was mad that Tony was dead because he wanted to punish him over and over. As intense as the hatred was Tim realized he needed to squash it. There were things he had to do and he would have time to think about the past later.

It would be a long, difficult trip to the Walls and the sun would be setting soon so he decided to make his way back to his house. After his experience with Tony, he wasn't sure what to expect. The world around him was hostile and dangerous, at best.

Chapter 4

The Fool

Tim woke up as the first light of morning seeped into the house. He made breakfast over a small fire in the ruined fireplace, then set about preparing for the trip to the Walls. He still hadn't explained to himself the reason for going there. It was like he was being compelled. He had first thought about going there after seeing the blue light the morning after the quake. Since then, It is just something I have to do. It's that simple.

He discarded all his clothes except for an extra pair of sneakers, an extra shirt, and a pair of pants because it never got cold this time of year. He packed a hunting knife, binoculars, camera, radio, medical kit, food and water. The pistol went into his pocket with the extra ammunition. This time he would take the pellet rifle because it was silent and powerful.

"You see, Deputy, I'm learning," he said as a tribute to the dog. Tim had searched for the body of the dog the night before, but it was gone.

*

Tim started toward the mountains. He had traveled two hundred yards up the cove from the edge of town when he stopped for a rest at the top of a tilted rock slab. His pack was heavy and the going was difficult. Before the quake, walking this area was easy. The once smooth riverbed was now a twisted, tangled mess. Pieces of bedrock thrust up at all angles. In some places he had to climb or descend twenty feet or more.

As he sat quenching his thirst, he surveyed the town below with the binoculars. He was looking at the upper part of the town, and when he came to Ann's house he stopped for a moment. It stood out because it was in better shape than the rest in the immediate area. How ironic! An earthquake wrecks everything in sight except your house, then a sicko like Tony spoils it by slaughtering your family. Tim had stopped at Ann's house on the way up and found the bodies of her father and her other brother. He had to assume Tony was responsible.

Tim's hometown was nestled up in a cove with mountains on three sides. There were two roads in and out of town, and from where Tim sat he could see that fissures had severed both of them. Bulldozers were working on one of the roads and before long they would have it open. A large aid station had been set up past where any traffic could go, and many helicopters were busying back-and-forth.

As he swung the binoculars back up the cove he surveyed the rest of the town. It looked like little piles of pickup sticks with burned out patches everywhere. At the end of town, closest to him, he spotted a group of people milling in and out of the crumpled homes. Tim moved the binoculars from person to person until he stopped on one particular man. The man was watching Tim with his own binoculars. Tim felt his blood go cold. Some of the people were armed, and others appeared to be guarded like hostages. Tim slid down from his exposed position to one that left only his head showing and continued watching the group. There was no doubt that three of the group were being forced about by a man and a woman with guns. The slaves were weighed down with booty the others were collecting from the deserted houses.

The man with the binoculars motioned to one of his party who walked over to him. The first man traded his glasses for a rifle from the second man. The first man pointed the rifle up at Tim who immediately ducked down behind the rocks. A loud snap came from just above Tim's head. It was a sonic boom from a bullet traveling far above the speed of sound. A second later he heard the boom from the rifle below.

"I don't believe this shit!" Tim yelled.

He remained hidden for a few moments, but curiosity got the better of him. He slowly edged to the top of the rock to peer over. He was cautious as his eyes reached the top of the rock he was behind. He moved his head a little higher and looked over. Just as he visually located the shooter, another bullet struck the rock not more than two feet to the left of his face. He jumped reactively to the side and down.

"You Son of a bitch!" Tim screamed at the top of his voice. "What are you trying to do, asshole?" He yelled so loud he hurt his throat.

Snap! A third bullet passed over his head and Tim realized that swearing at this guy was going to serve no purpose. Either was sticking his head over the rocks again, especially in the same spot. He grabbed his stuff and moved to the left, protected from below by the rocks. After traveling for a few hundred feet he carefully selected a spot that seemed safe and searched for the people below. He couldn't see a trace of anyone, but there were many places to get lost in the jumbled terrain.

*

Tim traveled for two more hours and made it to the bottom of the mountain where the river left the canyons above and began its gentler flow down the cove. Ahead and above the climb began. He found a comfortable spot that was concealed and searched for the madmen below. Again there was no sign of them so he hoped they had lost interest. Since the shooting incident he had been moving away from anything that might be valuable to these scavengers.

After resting and eating, he was about to move when he thought he heard a voice. It seemed to have come from a fairly short distance, but with the terrain all tossed and tumbled it was hard to tell distance or direction. As he prepared to move again he heard the voice. This time he was sure. A moment later he heard some rocks falling and some swearing.

Whoever it is, they are close. . .damn close.

He pulled out the pellet rifle and the pistol, and pressed himself in between two rocks.

Why did they follow me, or did they? It could just be a coincidence or maybe some other people. Maybe a friendly face. I could use a friend about now.

From his hiding place in the rocks Tim watched and waited. Under no circumstances was he going to drop his guard. It was a damn good time to be cautious. Tony had caught him by surprise, but nobody else would because Tim prided himself with being fairly intelligent.

A man appeared from between some rocks below about one hundred feet away. He was armed with an M-16. Tim recognized it immediately. The man was dressed in Army fatigues, but he didn't look like a soldier because his hair was long and stringy, and he looked scummy. The man moved among the rocks, alternately looking down to the ground and then up and all around.

The Son of a bitch is tracking me.

Tim realized the man was following the trail he had so carelessly left and it would lead him right to the spot where he was hiding. Tim had to make a quick decision because he didn't stand a chance if he waited too long. This man was definitely not a friend. He was too close for him to make a break because an M-16 is effective. To surrender was out of the question. This man had not followed him all this way just to say hello.

Tim's pellet rifle fired using compressed air. It had a hand pump and the more pumps you gave it the more powerful it became. He pumped it ten times—the maximum allowed according to the instructions—then gave it one more for good measure. Tim had put holes through both sides of a paint can with the gun so he was confident it would do some damage if he hit a good spot.

The man was now fifty feet from Tim. Tim took aim, but hesitated. What if he missed? He had only one shot and then he would have to reload and re-pump the gun.

That won't work too well.

The man had stopped climbing and was searching around. Tim felt for the pistol. He didn't want to use it because it was far too loud, and he assumed the man had friends close by, but if he had to, he would. He continued to sight the man, but he just couldn't shoot.

What gives me the right? Maybe this guy isn't here to harm me? I can't shoot him without being sure.

The man turned toward Tim. Something was hanging from his belt. As the man came closer, Tim kept him in the sight of the rifle and alternately looked to the man's belt. He couldn't identify the articles hanging there, but they looked like a string of dried apricots.

Apricots? It struck home immediately. No, they're ears. The S.O.B. is collecting ears. That's why he's following me. He wants my ears.

Tim took careful aim. He had no choice now. He fired the pellet rifle and quickly grabbed for the pistol, but in his haste he lost his footing on the rocks and slid down a bit, losing sight of his target.

Oh shit, he thought, as he lay there motionless. He wasn't sure if he had hit the guy. Terror gripped him. At any moment the M-16 could come pointing over the rocks, and he would be done for. He pointed the pistol out in front of himself and waited. He wasn't going down without a fight.

A minute passed and nothing happened. It was the hardest thing he had ever done—to sit and wait. The decision to move was no easier. He was so scared he couldn't breathe. He moved to the side and up. He wasn't going to appear exactly where he had been before. He was learning.

He found two large rocks that were leaning together, but had a small opening in between them. He looked through the opening, cautiously. He had to move slightly to the side to finally see the man. He was in the same spot as when Tim had fired at him, but was on his knees holding his throat with both hands. Blood oozed out between his fingers. The M-16 lay on the ground ten feet in front of him.

Tim scrambled around the rocks and approached the man. He held the pistol out in front, pointed at the center of the man's body. Without taking his eyes off him, Tim crouched down and retrieved the M-16.

There was pain in the man's eyes. He worked his mouth, but no sound came out. Tim felt shame for doing this, but he realized he didn't have any other choice. His mind flashed back to Cyclops, the first man he had killed, and to Tony, who he had seriously wounded. He felt anguish. I have no right to hurt people this way. How can I live with this blood on my hands?

He was about to put the pistol down when his eyes dropped to the man's belt. There were at least twenty ears hanging there. This man was a monster, the Cyclops had been a monster, and Tony had been a monster. He knew he had shot these men because he wanted to live and they had wanted to kill him. It was that simple. It is my right as a survivor to do what I must to stay alive.

He left the man kneeling among the rocks. Tim decided he deserved the worst so let him suffer. He gathered his things and the M-16, and set out for the Walls.

*

As he traveled farther into the mountains the going became a little easier. The trails he knew by heart were still partially there. He had to take many detours, but the earthquake had done less damage up higher. Many rocks had rolled down the slopes, but the ground didn't have the cracks and wrinkles like down below. The valleys were full of debris, so he stayed more to the middle ground, but not so far up that he made himself visible against the skyline. Besides, there were still aftershocks, and the bottom didn't seem like the safest place to be.

He walked until a little after dark before stopping to rest. It was impossible to sleep because he couldn't find a place to lie down without a rock sticking him somewhere. He was about to light a fire, then decided against it. The Ear-man was probably not alone, and he'd had enough excitement already.

A campfire was visible among the rocks a mile below him. He decided that farther up would be safer. It was possible there were more people and they might be after him.

From his new position he could see numerous figures moving around the campfire he had sighted earlier. He hoped the Ear-man was seriously hurt or dead. He remembered the look on the man's face and prayed silently. I hope I never see that nasty bastard ever again. At least he had the M-16. It would improve his chances considerably if they caught up to him.

*

Tim started out a couple of hours before dawn.

The farther from the creeps, the better. He moved in a slightly different direction which would cause him to enter the Walls from the top instead of the bottom. He was also careful not to leave a trail. It made the going a little slower, but now that he knew what he was up against he would play it smart. If they were going to pursue him, he wasn't going to make it easy for them.

The Eastern sky began to lighten as another day was about to begin. There was a pile of rocks at the top of the slope he was climbing. From the boulders he would be able to survey the spot he had spent most of the night. He would soon know if he was being hunted, and if so, by how many. It was still quite dark when he slid into the rocks and settled down. He drank some water and started to peel an orange. Before he was half done he saw them. Two lights appeared as sharp beacons in the dim light of the coming dawn. They were much farther up the ridge than he would have figured.

If I hadn't moved when I did. The thought made him shiver.

The change in direction was also a smart move. If he had continued to the bottom of the Walls, the men would have seen him as he entered the canyon.

Tim continued to watch the two figures. As it got light he was able to see that they were two men both carrying rifles with scopes. He scanned the terrain back where they had come from and sighted three more. The second group was about where he would have expected to see someone this early. This group was made up of two more men and a woman. One of the men looked like he had something wrapped around his neck.

"If things don't go my way I might be headed for a really bad day," Tim mumbled under his breath.

From where he was he had about half a mile to cover to the backside of the Walls. He would need all the speed he could muster so he dropped everything but the M-16, the small pack with water, some food, and the pistol. He would have to fetch the rest after it got dark. The scoped rifles the men were carrying were going to make it difficult to travel the remaining distance to the canyon.

He beelined it staying as low as possible. Running was difficult. He also tried to dodge to make a harder target and to stay behind as much cover as possible.

Only halfway to the Walls and already he was winded, but he couldn't afford to slow down. When he was three-fourths of the way, he finally crapped out—his muscles aching and his lungs gasping for air. He didn't see how he could make it all the way without stopping, but with only two hundred feet left he ran out of cover. He had no choice now. Tim pushed himself with all the strength remaining in his tortured body. He rushed to the edge of the canyon and threw himself down among the small rocks laying on the rim.

"So far, so good," he gasped.

He lay still for a couple of minutes trying to regain his breath. He was safe for the time being. From this spot he had only a few feet to go to enter the top of the Walls. He was thankful to be on the West side of the canyon because the climb down was much easier here than the other side. The East side, in many places, was a sheer drop straight to the bottom.

*

As Tim tried to regain his strength to make the descent, the lead men reached the bottom end of the canyon. They had seen Tim racing toward the top end of the gorge, but had not been able to get a good shot. There was no hurry, though, because they were sure they had the kid fairly well trapped. They had radios and were communicating with their people behind them. The rear group was swinging to the top end of the canyon to cut the kid off and trap him in. Their partner would join them soon and he wanted revenge. His throat was hurting him badly and Johnson was a mean bastard even when he was feeling good. They were really looking forward to this because the last three days had been the high point in their fruitless lives.

*

From where he was Tim had a steep decline into the canyon, but there were many cracks and ledges for hand and foot holds. There was plenty of cover also and Tim stayed in the shadows as he made his way to the bottom. His knowledge of the Walls would help him now. The bottom was a series of small waterfalls and dry, sandy pools with numerous smaller canyons, cliffs and boulders. He knew exactly where he wanted to go and it would be difficult to corner him there. He had the M-16, and his destination would protect him on three sides. The fourth side—their only possible approach—was no more than two feet wide. Any adversary would have a steep, twenty-foot climb on smooth rock just to get sight of Tim's hideaway.

The two men in the front group separated. One stayed on the East side making his way along the ledges on the top rim of the Walls. The second one continued on the West side staying close to the bottom. The man on the top found a spot and waited. His location afforded him a view down the center of most of the canyon and his wait paid off quickly. From out of the shadows Tim appeared.

Tim was about to jump the last few feet to the bottom when something struck him hard in the thigh, accompanied by a loud bang. The force spun him around and propelled him ten feet through the air. He landed hard in the sand, out of the shooter's sight. Blood gushed from Tim's thigh and a dull pain started. He watched in horror as the sand below his leg turned red with his own blood. He quickly pulled off his shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound.

"Son of a bitch! This thing is getting ridiculous," Tim exclaimed. He knew he couldn't stay where he was because he was sure they were converging on him. If he didn't get to his destination quickly it would all be over in short order.

He hobbled across the sandy pool. At least the bone wasn't broken, and he could still make good time. He got to the other side and slid down the smooth rock into the pool below. He was moving toward the men, but the safety he was seeking was in that direction. One more pool down there was a fracture in the rock wall leading up to a ledge that was protected from above by an overhang. The ledge was protected on both sides by the fracture. The only way up to the ledge was the crack, and the only way to ascend the crack was using the wooden steps he had put there. Tim made the steps two years ago by wedging four-by-fours in the crack. The boards were attached to each other by a rope. Once a person had climbed the boards and was on the ledge, they simply pulled the boards up after themselves and no one could follow. He had devised the refuge in one of his daydreams. In the daydream he was being pursued by a nasty bunch of Indians, and this was his escape plan. He hoped his childish invention might just save his almost-adult ass.

As he reached the slide that went into the pool with the sanctuary, he spotted one of the men making his way along a ledge almost to the top of the East wall. The man was in plain view. Tim took aim with the M-16 and fired a shot. The bullet hit wide of the target, ricocheting off the rock next to the man who jumped back against the rock wall. Tim took aim again. It wasn't necessary because the man had lost his balance. Tim watched in fascination as the man tried to balance on one foot. He grabbed, panic stricken, to get a hold of anything to prevent his fall, but it was no good. He finally toppled over and with a scream began to fall to the bottom.

From there it was a straight fall of at least a hundred feet to the rocky bottom. The man would do more than just hurt himself. He was now out of the game. The scream ended with a thud.

Tim heard a helicopter approaching from the valley below. He also heard some shouting from the canyon's rim where he had started his own descent.

Man those guys are moving fast.

A shout came from where the unfortunate man had landed. They were closing the gap.

The sound of the chopper was loud now. Apparently his pursuers had been spotted because the helo came racing up the canyon. Shots rang out as the chopper shot over the pool Tim was in. It pulled up sharply and skimmed over the East rim of the canyon and out of sight. Tim recognized the helicopter as a Cobra Gun-Ship. From what he had read, and what Arty had told him, the men shooting at it were fools.

It was hard to tell what the machine was doing because the mountains and canyon dispersed the sound. One moment it sounded far off. The next it was zipping back down the canyon. Tim saw a brilliant sparkle from under its nose as it closed the distance. A terrible ripping sound came from across the canyon and down a little ways. The sound traveled back toward the gun-ship and sounded like an electronic fart. The ship whipped past him and continued down the canyon. Then it shot up over the West rim and was gone again. It came back into view as it climbed high into the sky and made a large, gentle turn. After it had turned 180 degrees the nose dropped and it started back down. Its nose pointed at the far side of the canyon and smoke gushed out of both sides of the machine. About a dozen small, thin objects streaked down at tremendous speed, striking the other side of the canyon part of the way up the slope. Many explosions shook the Walls. The helo pulled up again and went high where it circled three times and headed back toward the valley below. Tim shouted and waved, but it apparently went unnoticed by the helicopter crew. He was too deep in the shadows to be seen from above.

The bleeding in his thigh seemed to have stopped somewhat, but the pain was increasing and he was bordering on exhaustion and shock. He made his way to the slide and slipped down to the next pool below coming to rest in the sand. This was the final pool. If he could make it up those steps he would be safe and could rest. He hobbled across the pool using the M-16 as a crutch.

When he got to the other side his heart sank. The crack was wider than before, and the wooden steps were now lying in the sand. There would be no way to get to the protection above.

The fissure was not only wider, but also much deeper in the rock than it had been before the quake. A soft blue light came from the deeper part of the crack and prevented him from seeing all the way inside. As he stepped farther into the opening he noticed a strange smell. It was hard to identify, but somewhat familiar. He had smelled it before, but where? A soft humming came out of the fissure, though he wasn't sure if he was hearing it or feeling it. He moved farther in and tried to see what was causing the blue light, but it formed a haze that his eyes couldn't focus on. His whole body was tingling, and the sensation was getting stronger.

Finally he remembered the smell. Back in Wisconsin, in the dead of winter, the temperature would get as low as minus 40. When it got that cold this was how it smelled. Arty had once explained that it was too cold to smell anything. That's what it smelled like in the fissure—nothing, totally clean, sterile.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

His little refuge in the Walls was spoiled. He had to find a place to rest and think, someplace safe. He summoned up enough courage to continue into the crack. He was about to take another step when he heard a noise behind him. He turned quickly. Ear-man was standing thirty feet away with a shotgun pointed directly at him. Ear-man was covered with blood and dirt and his left arm hung useless at his side. The man had a crazed look on his face, and Tim knew he had probably bought the farm.

Tim jerked the M-16 up as fast as he could. Both guns fired simultaneously. Something hit Tim in the chest, and it felt like a truck. He was propelled violently deeper into the fissure. There was a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest, and he was falling. He hit the ground with a sharp jolt and came to rest on his back. He opened his eyes, but could only see brilliant blue light all around him. It was like being inside the light itself. A terrible stab of pain went through his chest every time he tried to take a breath. He needed air, but it was too painful to draw it in. He tried repeatedly, but the pain was just too intense. He could feel his chest getting tighter and tighter, the pain increasing all the time.

The humming was building in his ears and a tingling in his hands and feet. The tingling began to move through his hands and feet and up into his arms and legs. The aching in his chest was unbearable. The tingling continued to move up his extremities. The pain in his chest was so bad he felt himself slipping toward unconsciousness. He fought to stay alert, but his arms and legs were numb. The tingling moved into his torso. He knew he was dying.

Everything I ever hoped for is now impossible.

The tingling moved across his chest and started to mask the awful pain.

He thought about his mother, Arty, Ann. The once happy family was just about gone now, and soon not even a trace would be left.

Ann, what's going to happen to her? I'm never going to know. She's going to wonder what happened to me. . .if she gets better, but there will never be any answers for her. I just disappeared with no trace. How long will she wonder, if she ever does? So much for being a survivor, because all the struggles of the past few days were for nothing.

The tingling in his chest had replaced the pain.

What a blessing.

He felt like he was getting lighter and his body was floating away. The pain had been replaced by pleasure.

So this is death?

He had heard that people who were revived after dying often described euphoria. They described death as pleasurable. It was true. Death was not to be feared.

He started to move in a shaft of light, sideways he thought, but he wasn't sure.

As long as it isn't down. If it starts getting hot, I'm in a world of shit.

When he stopped moving, a shadow appeared over him. It was an object, he was sure, but he couldn't see past the light surrounding him. The light began to shimmer and fade as small balls of colored light began to form and dart around. They continued to form and get bigger. There were hundreds. There were colors he had never seen before. They were, so bright, so vivid, so peaceful, and yet, so exciting. The orbs of light started to circle closer and closer. Then some of them began to rush at him, and some went right through his body. They were telling him he didn't physically exist anymore.

That's it.

He was still Tim, but only the thinking Tim and not a physical being. He could feel nothing. He could only think.

Many times he had pondered about what life was. Why did he possess it? What was the difference between living and not living? Until now there had been no way to define life. He understood the basics of biology and chemistry, and how they were responsible for his body being able to function as it did, but the workings of the brain and what made him Tim were a complete mystery. The greatest minds of all times had not figured it out. Modern man with all his knowledge and his super computers was still not even close.

Now Tim understood because it was so simple. Before his body had hindered his mind. His body needed constant attention. Breathing, motions, and all the rest of the functions necessary to sustain his life were controlled by his brain. His emotions, good and bad that were part of his day-to-day living were a direct response to his surroundings and he had to deal with them. They clogged his brain with uncertainty. In addition, he was constantly assailed by decisions. He had to make them, whether right or wrong, and there was no escape. It was a staggering task that took a good share of the brain's time and, most importantly, its focus. Now his body was gone and all the conflicts were irrelevant. His mind was free. Everything was so clear and simple now.

The experience was beyond all description. He wanted it to last forever, but his awareness began to fade. He tried desperately to remain conscious, but the energy that was life was draining out of him. He knew he could not stop the darkness from overtaking him.

Fifteen years just wasn't long enough, was his last thought.

Chapter 5

Mr. V & Me

There is a total blackness so complete it is beyond description. It is a total vacuum, a complete void. Nothing exists there except an intelligent, conscious thought. The Thought is aware it is completely alone. The Thought surmises that, although there is nothing else, the fact that it exists means that there is something. It understands what something is and that it has deduced this pleases it. What it is, it does not know, but it is more than just something, it has to be. Its first emotion has surfaced, but it doesn't quite understand psyche yet. It is more important than the nothingness that surrounds it. It decides it is the center of everything. Now it understands ego.

I am something, the Thought decides. Splendid.

The Thought is pleased with itself and now it understands psyche. It thinks there has to be more, but the Thought has no concept of energy, motion, substance, or time. Nothing is all it has ever experienced. Because it has no notion of time, becoming aware has no meaning to it. It isn't confused because there is no information so there can be no contradictions. The Thought is just pure intelligence, like a computer that works perfectly, but has nothing in its memory banks.

There is a faint twinkle of light in the blackness, and the Thought registers it. Now It has experienced energy and it understands. Another twinkle, and now it understands time. Another twinkle from a different location, and it understands distance and dimension. Another twinkle, but this one moves before it disappears, and it understands motion. A fourth twinkle appears, but does not go out. Instead, it grows, and the Thought understands the existence of matter. As the twinkle continues to grow, the Thought analyzes it and realizes it is learning. The Thought is fascinated. It understands learning, and for the first time, it knows it is alive and it is pleased.

The twinkle continues to grow and becomes a sparkle. Another sparkle forms and joins the first. The Thought understands the concept of math now. Another and another appear until they are thick around it. They continue to grow, and start to form different colors.

This is familiar, the Thought realizes.

The Thought has no concept of memory. The fact that it has seen the colors before, but has experienced nothing before the first twinkle is a contradiction. Now the Thought understands confusion and is perplexed. The Thought now understands problems and the need to find solutions. The colors are small balls of light circling in the distance, but they are getting closer. Some of the orbs move right at the Thought, but veer away at the last moment.

This, too, is familiar, it deduces.

The Thought knows it has seen this before. One of the orbs does not swerve away and shoots right through It. It has experienced this before. It knows this. Now it understands memory as knowledge it gained from experience, but it has no experience except for the blackness before It became aware.

Before?—Before when?—Back when there was—when there was Tim. Yes, before, when I was—'Tim'.

It recognizes Tim. Tim is in its memory. Memory is something that happened before. It understands It was Tim before, and It is Tim again. The Thought is pleased.

I am Tim, the Thought proclaims to itself.

Tim's past knowledge begins to permeate the Thought. It begins to absorb everything Tim knew.

I have always been Tim, and It understands this. The Thought becomes Tim, but there is still uncertainty. What is the function, the purpose, of the consciousness that has been established?

What was Tim?

The new, conscious Tim watches as the light balls grow in size and intensity. They grow and grow, and start to crowd out the surrounding blackness. Suddenly they merge into a blinding white light. As suddenly, the light disappears with a poof. The soft blue light Tim remembers takes its place.

Tim is life.

This realization transforms the Entity and Tim emerges.

Now the soft light reminds Tim of how he got there in the first place. The shotgun pellets tearing into his chest. The pain, how it had hurt when he tried to breath, how he had died.

But if I died, then I must be on my way to the afterlife. I wonder what Heaven will be like? Oh shit, I've killed maybe two men, and I've never believed in God.

A new thought disturbs Tim. Hell is a possibility I have to consider, but I'm not scared. I'm still feeling the euphoria. I'm no longer a physical being. I'm just a spirit.

He detects a sound, the first sound since reawakening. It's a pumping sound, and he wonders about the source. It seems like it is coming from inside himself. It sounds like a heart beating. At that moment, he feels like he has blinked. He commands his eyes to close and they do, cutting out the soft blue surroundings.

"I wonder why a spirit would have eyelids?" he said aloud.

The sound of his voice startles him.

"What the hell?"

That is a physical action, because I felt my mouth move.

"I can't—"

He stops to think about what is happening. I shouldn't be able to talk, unless I have a body.

"I should not be able to talk—"

But there it is again. I have spoken, and not only can I feel my mouth, but my whole head, and I can hear and smell.

"I shouldn't be able to feel anything."

He hadn't realized it until it started to fade, but he still felt the tingling sensation. It was receding, though, down and out of his torso. He also felt the need for oxygen, which meant he would have to breath. He fought the urge to take a breath because he didn't want the awful pain to start again. For the first time in the ordeal, he was really scared. Dying had been acceptable—a welcome solution to many problems.

Why can't I stay in the darkness forever?" he prayed. "That terrible pain. I can't take it again!

He began to cry as he tried to hold his breath, but he would have to relent because the need for air was overpowering. Tim allowed his chest to expand slightly drawing in a small amount of air. He was anticipating pain, but there was none. He expanded his chest a little further, and still no pain. He exhaled and drew in another small breath without any discomfort. He took a deeper breath, and it still didn't hurt. He took big, deep breath, and experienced nothing but pleasure.

He was baffled. He couldn't be alive because it would surely hurt like hell, like it had after he was shot. The tingling had now moved out from his torso and into his extremities. He remained still, not even thinking of moving because he wasn't sure what was happening. He might still be a spirit. It wasn't until the tingling sensation moved completely down his arms that he thought about moving an arm. He sent out the command for his right arm to raise and it felt like it had responded. He moved the arm so its hand should be in front of his face, and there it was. He recognized his own fingers. He wiggled them and they worked perfectly.

Tim put his hand on his chest with apprehension, expecting ragged flesh from the shotgun blast. Instead all he felt was smooth skin. He brought his leg up to his chest and looked at his thigh. He had seen the bloody wound when he wrapped the shirt around it, but there was no damage there now, not even a scar.

He was totally baffled. It had to be a dream. It made no sense. It wasn't possible. He was just as he had been before he was shot. The only thing different was he had no clothes on.

Was this enough to prove it had all really happened?

He decided to try to get up and make some sense out of where he was. It could possibly answer some of his many questions. He sat up and looked around. His first observation was that he was sitting on light.

"That ties in with all the other things happening at this point," he said and chuckled to himself.

He felt the light with his hand. The surface was as difficult to determine with touch as it was with sight. It was something his senses had not experienced before. The surface produced no sensation in his hand, like nothing was there, but no amount of force would make his hand move into it. He punched down as hard as he could, but the surface just absorbed the blow. The material stopped his punch without putting any shock on his fist.

"A solid light," Tim concluded, talking to himself. He thought about it for a second, and it came to him. "It's an energy barrier, a force field. They're big in the sci-fi industry," he joked.

He was proud of his deduction, except it just raised more questions.

But it makes as much sense as anything else here, he conceded. "I wonder if it is still today, or any other day for that matter?"

Is this a dream? Is this insanity?—Maybe it's the afterlife?

He knew he was someplace strange, but he was fairly sure that he was still himself. He wished he had a mirror to see his face, but he was certain he looked the same as before. He sure felt good, though: strong, alert, and full of energy.

"Where the hell am I?" he said out loud, frustrated, but his voice was mostly absorbed by the blue light all around him.

"Hello! Anyone there?" he shouted, getting up.

He set out to explore and see how far he could go. The light was solid and consistent all the way around. He was imprisoned in the same material as the thing he woke up on. He took a short run at the barrier, letting all his weight fly at it, slamming into it with his shoulder, but it didn't yield. He stepped back and was trying to think of what to do next.

"Are you comfortable?" asked a powerful voice that emanated from every direction.

Tim's heart skipped a beat and he jumped back, nearly falling over the thing he had been lying on.

"Are you comfortable?" repeated the voice with a deep, but soft, friendly tone.

Tim's reply was little more than a squeak as he scrambled along the base of his prison, squeezing himself tight against the barrier.

"I'm wondering if you are all right," said the voice.

"Ah, yeah. . .I guess." Tim's voice was shaking, as was his body. "Who are you?" He was looking all around the enclosure with his mouth hanging open, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

"Would you like something to eat?" the voice asked.

Tim didn't respond because his mind was flying through all the possibilities of this new situation.

"Are you hungry?" the voice added.

"I don't know," Tim whispered. "Who are you?" Then trying to sound tough, he quickly asked, "Why are you keeping me here?" but he was still shaking too badly to really pull it off.

"If you're thirsty or hungry, please sit back at the table."

"Is that what that is?" Tim gestured to the structure he woke up on.

"No, this is a table," said the voice, as a flat, thin, square shape began to form out of thin air, three feet off the bottom of the enclosure. It had no legs and was just suspended in midair. Tim got up and put all his weight on it, and it didn't budge. Another small platform with a back materialized next to the first one. These two articles were a shade darker than the chamber and the structure he had gotten up from. They seemed to be more solid and easier to focus on. A small, emerald-green disk floated out of the light barrier and settled on the newly formed table. On the disk was a small square of brown material. This was followed by a pink cup filled with a bright red liquid. That too settled on the table.

"Please eat, and then we will talk." The voice sounded reassuring. "If that is satisfactory?"

Tim walked over to the table and looked at the disk and the glass. He picked up the brown bar and brought it up to his nose. It had a rich, meaty smell, and he was hungry after smelling it. He took a small bite. Although he didn't recognize the taste, it was delicious. The liquid was also strange-tasting, but good.

*

When he finished the meal, the utensils floated back through the barrier and a tiny, thin bundle appeared out of the same place and floated over to him.

"Something for you to wear," said the voice.

Tim looked at the three-square-inch package and started to laugh. "This isn't going to cover much," he said, thinking, Ann's bikini, as he reached out and took the package in his hand. It was almost weightless. He turned it over and spotted a tab, which he pulled at. The material came apart paper thin, but it had a warm and supple feeling. He carefully unfolded the article, not wanting to tear the delicate fabric. Lo and behold, it was a one-piece jumpsuit complete with feet and hands, but way too small.

"How am I going to get into this without tearing it to pieces?"

"No need to worry. The material is quite durable," said the voice.

Tim smiled, looked around, and thought about what had happened there so far.

"Durable? Shit, it's probably bulletproof!"

"Yes, it is a good description of its strength," said the voice. "It would certainly protect you from most projectile-type weapons."

As Tim stepped into the suit, a million questions leaped into his head. What is happening here to is so hard to comprehend. I have no way of making any sense of what is taking place so I'll have to just play it out and see where it leads.

The voice had been right about the suit's strength. It stretched out to fit perfectly. It followed every contour of his body, no matter how small, and it was remarkably comfortable. He did some bends and stretches, and the material seemed to move with him.

"Is it machine washable?" Tim asked jokingly.

"Most certainly, but that is not necessary."

"Oh, who cleans it?"

"It needs no care. It remains unsoiled. In fact, it will keep you clean as well, but you have to brush your own teeth," the voice added with a small laugh.

Geez, a comedian. I hope I don't have to laugh at all of his jokes.

"You don't have to laugh, if you don't want to," the voice said.

"Huh?" Tim gulped.

"My jokes—it isn't necessary to laugh."

Concerned, Tim hesitated.

"How did you? Geez, I didn't say anything about your jokes," he said. Then Tim thought, Mr. V, read my mind.

"Yes, I did, and I like the name Mr.V."

Although it didn't surprise him too much, Tim was immediately uncomfortable. His thoughts had always been protected.

Oh, boy. It matters what I say to people, but it's my privilege to think like I want. Controlling my mouth should be possible, but thoughts are thoughts, and having someone know what I think could cause a whole bunch of trouble here.

"I understand your concern, and I will only communicate orally," said Mr. V. "From this point on, your thoughts are yours alone."

"But you will always be able to read my thoughts," Tim replied with concern in his tone.

"No, I promised I would not. Believe me, my word is good."

"But what if you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I'll just have to ask, and if you don't want to tell me that is your privilege."

"I don't believe you!" exclaimed Tim.

"I promised you I will not."

"What if I make you mad?" Tim asked knowing his tendency to be blunt and to the point.

"I am not subject to emotions as you are."

"Whatever!" Tim paused and looked around at his little prison. "Who the hell are you?"

"First, I'm not a who. I'm a what," said Mr. V.

"Oh, okay!" Tim responded with a cynical tone, but he was immediately sorry he had popped off. I've got to be careful of my mouth! Then what are you?" he asked in a better tone.

"I'm what you would call a computer."

"Oh, great! I'm having a conversation with Mr. V, the computer. I'll go for that one every time. Where the hell am I? What's going on? I mean, I was sure I got zapped, but now it doesn't look like it happened. Could you possibly explain that one to me?"

"I think it would be appropriate. First, you were dead, but you're alive again. I am able to do that sort of thing."

"You practice some sort of magic or something?"

"No, no magic, just plain old science. The earthquake did some damage to my home, and you stumbled in, or rather were blasted in, and I patched you up."

As crazy as it sounds, it makes sense. I can get the details later.

"What is this place? It sure isn't very big," Tim asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Mr. V. Immediately the light around Tim began to fade quickly. When it was gone, Tim was left standing in a chamber about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide. It had many partitions that took up half the width. They were formed by thin walls curving up from the floor and merging into the doomed ceiling.

"Is that better? Can I call you Tim?" Mr. V's voice still came from all directions.

"I thought you weren't going to read my mind!"

"I learned your name a long time ago."

"Oh, okay." Tim started to walk, then stopped. "Is it okay if I look around?"

"Yes, of course, it is okay."

The chamber was a dark green color with all edges and corners rounded. Tim walked over and touched the wall. It felt like velvet. He moved closer and looked carefully. It looked like a miniature hedge. The wall looked like it was covered with tiny, tightly packed leaves.

"Are these what I think they are?" Tim asked.

"It depends on what you think they are, but you seem quite intelligent, so I will assume you are wondering if they are real plants, correct?"

"Wow! Neat, but why plants on the walls?"

"The former inhabitants found them to be soothing. They make for a comfortable climate too."

"What is this place? Why did you say former inhabitants? What kind of computer can talk, by the way?"

"I'm slightly advanced compared to what you may be used to."

"What do you look like? Who else lives here?"

"Please sit down, and I will explain what has happened to you. Is that okay with you?"

"Where do I sit?" Tim had spotted nothing that could pass for any kind of chair.

"To your left," instructed the computer.

A chair was beginning to form from some of the blue light.

"How do you do that?"

"It would not make any sense to you, not yet anyway."

Tim did not reply, but went over to the chair and sat down.

Man, what an experience this is getting to be. The quake, being shot, Ann, now all these other things. It is all so crazy, but I know it must be real. It is incredible something so far-fetched is inside this mountain, just above the valley. Maybe I've cracked up? This could be all delusions, but I hope that isn't the case because I have to admit; this latest situation is exciting. This Mr. V thing is a real kick, and this place, wow. I'm sure it contains many more surprises, if I'm not imagining things. If I've gone insane, I have done it big time for sure.

He was sitting, speculating, when he felt a draft. He turned partway to his left and saw a disk-shaped section of the far wall begin to shimmer. It started going out of focus, then it continued to dissolve. A small hole in the plant wall appeared and continued to grow until it was seven or eight feet in diameter.

Tim got up and moved carefully over to the new opening and peeked in. It was the start of a tunnel. Way down the tunnel, he spotted a shadow. The shadow was moving toward him. Someone or something was coming toward the opening. He backed quickly into the middle of the room and stood still with his eyes glued to the opening of the tunnel. Uh oh, I wonder where this is going? Tim gulped, but he was strangely more curious than afraid.

The first thing he saw of the object was a foot, then a leg, and suddenly the entire form moved into view. With great relief he saw it was a man. The man was dressed in a tan, one-piece, snug-fitting garment like Tim had been given.

The person was remarkably tall and slim with a fair complexion and light, shining, medium-length hair. His features were slender, almost delicate, and he had exceptionally long, thin fingers. He walked with a grace Tim had never seen before. It was almost female, but Tim could see he was extremely strong just by his movements. He was looking at what was obviously an advanced species of human. As different to himself as he would be to a Neanderthal. The person had a smile that could light up the world. The man walked toward him. As the individual approached, Tim realized he was at least seven feet tall.

"Hello, Tim, I'm Mr. V and I'm glad to meet you," the creature said as it stuck out its hand.

Tim shook his hand and immediately decided that the delicate look was deceptive. This son of a bitch could tear me in half with no effort. Damn, I've got to be careful what I think because I still don't believe him.

"I, ah—I thought you were a computer."

"Oh, I am, but I thought you would be more comfortable talking to someone rather than the walls, so I built a replica of one of the former inhabitants."

"Former? What happened to them?"

"I will explain later," replied Mr. V.

"You mean you just threw this together?" Tim gestured to the alien body.

"Yes, it's not too difficult when you have the right tools."

"What else can you build?"

"Anything you can imagine, and a lot more."

"A Playboy Bunny?"

"Yes, but would you know what to do with her?" chuckled the Being.

This guy can't be just a machine.

"How come you know English?" Tim asked, deciding to change the subject.

"I understand all languages of Earth. I enjoy watching your civilizations. It gives me something to do."

"I'd think you would be too busy running all this," Tim commented, motioning around the room.

"Yes, but it's automated. Without the unpredictable human element, things go smoothly."

"I hope you're not counting on me to liven things up," Tim said sarcastically.

"Well, it's already a little more exciting. Your entrance to this base wasn't an everyday occurrence."

"Base? You just called this a base," questioned Tim.

"Yes, that was its original intention," returned the Being.

"What is it used for now?"

"Nothing. It is abandoned."

"You're still here. How can you call it abandoned?"

"I'm part of the base, not an inhabitant."

"This is all so confusing, and I'm not sure that it's real. I, ah, um, geez, no one would ever believe it."

"You can believe it because you are witnessing it with your own eyes. In your life you have had no experience that can accustom you to the technology involved within this structure."

"Like bringing me back to life? Yeah, that's a little far-fetched." Tim nodded in agreement.

"But you're comfortable with everything now," commented Mr. V.

Tim wasn't sure if it was a statement, or if Mr. V was looking for input.

"I don't see as I have any choice."

"You have choices. This is not a prison."

"I can walk out, now?"

"You can walk out, now, but aren't you interested about what is here?"

"Yeah, sort of, but it is so overwhelming."

"Being a little overwhelmed is understandable. If you will give me a little time, I will explain."

"The floor is all yours," stated Tim. "I don't have much that would interest you."

"On the contrary, but first the answers you seek. Please follow me."

Mr. V turned and headed for the opening in the wall, and Tim followed. Now he was curious. The miracle recovery sure looked viable at this point. He somewhat trusted what the computer was saying, but he knew he should be a little cautious. He was completely defenseless at this point so he decided he would just go along until he knew more. He was still bugged about the computer reading his mind, then just promising not to anymore. It just made no sense to Tim. Even if this Mr. V was sincere, how could he just turn off the signals and then not be tempted. He needed to be sure.

He was walking a few feet behind the giant and quickened his pace to close the distance. When he was right behind Mr. V he kicked out as hard as he could, hitting the large alien on the calf.

Mr. V stopped abruptly and turned.

"Trying to see if I'm still reading your thoughts, I'll bet," said Mr. V.

"Ah ha, I knew it! I knew you were," exclaimed Tim.

"No, I wasn't, but it wasn't too difficult to figure out the reason for your actions. I deduced the reason after you acted. If I would have known in advance, then you would have had your proof," stated the computer.

"You could have just let me do it to cover up the truth," snapped Tim.

"You're quite right," snickered Mr. V. He turned back in his original direction and started out again.

I just lost that one.

He could think of nothing more to add so he just followed silently. As they moved down the tunnel it lightened with their moving and darkened after they had passed. They were coming to a block in the tunnel. Mr. V advanced toward it without slowing. Just as the large being was approaching the obstruction it dissolved and he walked through. Tim followed him through. When he was on the other side he turned around. The opening was already gone.

The new room was pitch black with only a faint glow at one end, or it could be the middle. Tim could not tell. The glow began to increase as they moved toward it. It was much closer than he had first thought.

Mr. V went up to the glowing and reached out with his hand. The room began to lighten, and Tim could see it was also dome-shaped with a column in the middle. The column was fatter at the base and at the top where it blended to become the top of the dome. The walls were covered with the same plant substance, but this time there were tiny flowers among the leaves. Tim stuck out his hand to touch them, then suddenly pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Mr. V asked

"I didn't know if I should touch them," Tim said.

"Oh, they don't mind. In fact, I'm sure they would welcome the chance to connect with a human again."

Tim placed his palm on the wall. The feeling was tremendous. He felt so calm. Mr. V was right. These plants were great. It was at this point that Tim turned the corner. Until now, the new experience had been baffling because it was out of his scope of comfort, but now all the new, exciting possibilities were the issue.

"Man, I feel so at ease! The plants are really doing this?" Tim asked breathlessly, sounding totally hooked.

"Yes, they have the ability to absorb anxiety and tension."

"Wow, what a trip! Is this why people have plants?" Tim asked excited.

"Yes, I'm sure your civilization doesn't exactly understand the reason they enjoy plants so much, but they are aware of the calming qualities. In time they will understand the plants better. Also, consider these plants that you just experienced are far up the evolutionary ladder. Their counterparts do not exist outside of this base, but plants are appreciated for their beauty in all worlds. Even I enjoy my forest," exclaimed Mr. V.

"Do you get much chance to spend time in your forest? How far away is it?" Tim asked curious about the connotations of 'my forest'.

"Yes, I do. As you supposed, I have a forest here in the base—an extremely big and varied forest. You will get a chance to see it if you want," said Mr. V, completely setting the hook.

"Oh wow!" Tim exclaimed. He immediately thought of Ann. She would love this place, and she would love a forest. He wondered how she was doing. The look in her eyes the last time he had seen her had really scared him. He wasn't sure he would ever see her again, but now he might have something she could use to heal.

"Why would you need a forest?" Tim asked Mr. V, getting back to the business at hand.

"The inhabitants started it, and I continue to expand it."

Tim had moved around the column and spied an additional small chamber attached to the one they were in. He walked over and looked inside.

"What's the purpose of these?" Tim asked excitedly.

"They're for the plants," explained Mr. V.

"Are they real?"

"Certainly."

Tim stuck his hand out and scooped up a fistful of diamonds. They were all different sizes, from tiny, like he had seen on the edges of some rings, to as large as a quarter is round.

"Man, these must be worth millions! No, billions, maybe more," gasped Tim.

"Not really, because with my technology, they are quite simple to manufacture."

"You make these too?" Tim stared at the diamonds. "What do the plants have to do with diamonds?"

"The plants thrive in conjunction with humans, and since there have been none here for quite some time, the diamonds are a substitute. The crystal formation of their make-up is surprisingly similar to the patterns of stress within a human," stated Mr. V.

"Huh?"

"It is a little above your head. A little complicated, at first."

"It doesn't make any sense, at first," said Tim.

"There are many things to explain, and almost everything I have will seem a little extraordinary to you."

"Like a trillion dollars worth of diamonds just lying around."

"I told you, they are not worth much," repeated Mr. V. "In years to come, the value will drop, even in your world."

"You mean a diamond mine won't be the same?" said Tim, sounding disappointed. "That was one of my fantasies—to find a diamond mine. I used to pretend there was one right here in these mountains. Bummer!"

"Why bummer? You were right, weren't you?" stated Mr. V. "But if it will make you feel any better, gold is still valuable. No way to manufacture it, and there is only so much. That was one of the functions of this base when it was operational."

"You've got piles of gold too?"

"Quite a bit, but a good amount of it was shipped out, though," said Mr. V. "But let's start at the beginning, so you can understand better."

"You're going to tell me about the base?"

"That's not the beginning."

"Oh, are you trying to tell me I'm supposed to listen?"

"Right, you're a smart kid. So I can tell you that twenty-five billion years ago, the entire Universe had contracted into a single location, a Singularity—"

"What's this Singularity thing?" said Tim, interrupting.

"It's when all the Universe has collapsed and is located in the same spot, and there is nothing else in existence."

"Sounds like when I first came to in here."

"That is a good analogy. Now back to the Singularity, which was so small it had no definable size, but when converted back to mass would have weighed ten to the sixtieth power tons. Do you understand tens to the powers?"

"Yeah, the number followed by zeroes, as many as the power says," said Tim with pride. "They say the Universe is only thirteen billion years old," he added.

"They don't know what I do," said Mr. V.

Tim didn't say anything. He just nodded that he understood.

Mr. V continued, "All the matter in the Universe collapses into a different state—pure gravity—where it has no physical properties and is called the Singularity. The Universe remains in this state only a billionth of a second because the heat and pressure recharge half the gravity back into energy which explodes and expands, cooling, and forming hydrogen, the basic element.

"Then the Big-Bang is for real?" commented Tim, enthralled.

"Yes. So for twenty-five billion years now, the matter has been hurdling outward, with galaxies, suns, and planets forming and dying. At a point in about another forty-billion years, the force of the expansion will finally be stopped by the cooling of everything. When the Universe starts its cycle it contains only hydrogen. The basic element starts to coalesce into stars, the stars ignite by fusion reactions, and as the stars burn through their fuel and die they produce the heavier elements. As the Universe ages it produces more and more heavy elements that are unable to start a fusion reaction and there is less and less hydrogen and the lighter elements. Eventually there is not enough of the fusible elements to continue the fusion reactions and the Universe goes cold and collapses. The collapse to the Singularity causes another rebirth of the Universe."

Tim stood contemplating the explanation.

"Is there anything else you would like to know?" Mr. V asked.

"Is God real?" Tim asked quickly.

Mr. V didn't say anything, just stood looking at Tim. It was the first time Tim felt he was part of what was happening.

"He's real, sometimes," Mr. V said finally.

"How can he be real just sometimes? That doesn't make any sense," Tim said sarcastically.

"What is God?" Mr. V asked.

"He's the Supreme Being, the Creator," Tim said.

"Do you believe in him?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me the truth," Tim said.

Again Mr. V paused, momentarily. When he finally spoke, it was without the tutorial tone he had been using. "The truth is, the concept is real for some because they want and need to be believe in something beyond their grasp. God has never been defined as a material thing, or something seen or touched. The Supreme Power is just a belief to those that choose to believe. It is about the questions and answers important to each individual. If you are looking for something solid existing in one particular location, there probably is no God.

"Probably?"

"In all the history of the civilizations I know of, there has never been any confirmation. No one has ever returned to verify the idea.

Tim realized that this machine with the tremendous knowledge was considering his feelings.

"That means no Heaven?" Tim plunged ahead.

"Don't sound so disappointed, then there's no Hell either," said the computer quickly. It sounded relieved.

"What does happen to us when we die?" Tim was thinking of his mother, but suddenly realized that maybe he wasn't so sure he wanted to know the answer. Since the helicopter had left with her body, he had tried not to think about her death.

"Do you think you really want to know? You have no doubt witnessed many deaths these last few days."

"I was thinking that maybe I'm dead now, and this is the afterlife."

"You are not dead. I guarantee it."

"But, I was sure that I died from the shotgun. I know I got shot and something strange happened to me. The lights went out. I know I didn't dream that."

"I already explained that. I simply fixed you up."

"But I was dead, correct?"

"Yes."

"And you brought me back to life."

"Yes."

"That sounds like a lot more than just fixing something."

"Ah, Mr. Randell, you are an extraordinary individual after all."

"Ah huh!" exclaimed Tim. "This whole thing is more than just a coincidence."

"I didn't cause the earthquake, and I certainly had nothing to do with the man that shot you."

"But how could you have the power to bring me back to life?"

"I will explain that."

"Please do."

"Approximately ninety-million years ago, in a star system two hundred and fifty light years from Earth, a race of humanoids attained the technology to travel in deep space. Your Earth is probably fifty to sixty-thousand years from the same point. Those space travelers came to Earth and built this base. Actually, this base was built seven million years ago, but they were here long before that. Imagine the advances of your scientists in, say, a million years from now. You did die, but you were repaired and brought back to life by that technology."

"Did I die completely? I mean, I can remember feeling real strange and then everything went blank."

"You asked about what happens when a person dies, and you know because you experienced it. You were dead," said Mr. V.

"But there has to be more than just nothing. It can't end so abruptly, and be so final," whined Tim.

"Do you remember anything before you were born?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't born yet. I didn't exist."

"How would you define yourself, at that point?"

"Before I was born, or conceived?"

"Ah, good point. Before you were conceived."

"A gleam in my father's eye."

"I think that is good. I like the humor there," chuckled Mr. V. "A serious answer now."

"I guess nothing because that's all I could be if I wasn't conceived yet."

"That's what you will be after you die," said Mr. V.

"But I did die, and now I'm alive again," snapped Tim.

"I explained that. Now, if your brain had started to decompose before I mapped it then you would not have been the same. Many of your thoughts would have been lost, depending on the amount of time you were dead. The longer you would have been dead, the more of you would have been lost. I can repair the body, but what makes you Tim, I could never replicate."

"When my mother died, that was it then? She is just gone for good?" whimpered Tim.

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry," said Mr. V with a sympathetic tone.

Tim felt a heavy feeling sweep through him. It was hard to stand so he sat down in the middle of the floor.

Mr. V said nothing, but moved his hand some more. As he stopped, an object began to form. It was a recliner, and when it had completed itself, it sank to the floor.

"Please sit down," he said. "You should be comfortable. The truth is sometimes hard for a living being. They tend to forget the importance of the moment and think about the future as a solution. If you accept that all you have is contained in the life you are living, at the moment, then you realize you have to make those moments count for everything. It is all you've probably got, so make the best of it."

"You said probably again."

"Like I said, if there is something more, it has not been confirmed."

Tim thought about responding, but the impact Mr. V intended struck home. Not a minute to lose. If the computer was right, there was only one chance—no Shangrilas. This was the promised land, as bleak as it may seem at the moment. He sat in the chair Mr. V had conjured up, laid his head back and thought for a moment.

"Mr. V, my mom is gone, and gone for good, right?"

"She no longer exists anywhere," returned Mr. V.

"I have a brother too, the last of my family," stated Tim.

"Arty, I believe."

"You know about him and his condition." It was not a question. Tim knew that the computer knew about Arty.

"The whole story," replied Mr. V.

"I accept my mother's end. Can I do anything to save my brother?"

"If you bring him here, he certainly could be helped," said Mr. V.

Tim sat up quickly. "You mean it! Please mean it! Please!"

"I would not joke with you, especially about something as important as that," said Mr. V.

"How would I get him here, because he's in the hospital seventy miles away? There's no way!"

"I can help."

"You can get him for me?"

"No, I said that you would have to bring him here, and I would help. Pay attention," stressed Mr. V. "I cannot do it for you."

"Why not? You can do everything?" challenged Tim.

"Only in this base, because I cannot leave," said Mr. V.

"Why?" Tim asked incredulously.

"Because, I am the base. A little big to carry around, don't you think?"

"But what about that?" Tim pointed to the human body that was Mr. V at the moment.

"Just part of the base."

"But it can go outside, can't it?"

"No, the design of the system involved here does not permit outside travel to protect the environment," Mr. V said. "That is an important part of my directive."

"Protect? You mean you might harm something?"

"Not on purpose, but the influence of my presence, or actions, could alter the normal development of the Earth."

"Why did you bring me here then?"

"Can we discuss that later?"

"I'll bet you screwed up your directive, right?" Tim said in a sneering tone.

"Right, but do you think you should bother to judge me at this time?" the computer asked in an equally stern tone.

"I'm just looking out for my ass. This is the only chance I've got, according to you."

"I admire your directness and your perception, but you need to know more about the situation. Try to remain yourself, but also realize things have changed. I understand the apprehension and confusion confronting you. You will have to trust me for the time being." The large alien gestured with its palms out in the what if position. It looked genuine.

"Can I ask you why you singled me out?"

"Okay, one concession. I did bring you here. I have been watching you for a long time and I made a major decision because of a major occurrence. Do you know what that was?"

"Yeah, I was there. My hometown had a really bad day," Tim responded quickly, but then sat thinking before continuing. "How could you have been watching me?" Tim paused again. "If you couldn't leave here?"

"I had a spy," replied Mr. V.

"You have someone working for you?"

"It was a something."

"Oh, someone you built, just like him?" Tim said, pointing at the tall being. "Did I know him?" he added quickly.

"It wasn't a he."

"Not a he? Then it had to be a she, a girl. Their normally strange, so no one would notice, right?"

"Not a girl. Come on, think. You're a smart boy. Anything strange or out of the ordinary that you noticed?" Mr. V was motioning with his hands, trying to coax Tim, but Tim was at a loss.

"I don't know, geez, everything has been strange lately, a-hum?" Tim tried to think of every possibility. How could he be watched and not know it? He would notice if anything was diff—

He got a blank look on his face, his jaw dropped, and then a smile appeared on his face.

"The damn dog! The Deputy!" he exclaimed. "That's what Tony and that other S.O.B. were so excited about, right? Deputy Dog was your spy!"

"That's right. Much of the information I have compiled on your planet's history was gathered by mechanical animals. Birds are my favorite."

"Didn't you just say that you couldn't go outside the base. How can you send spies outside then?" Tim sounded annoyed.

"Let me explain. I can have no influence, but I can observe. My spies cannot do anything but watch. Why do you think the Deputy didn't do anything when Tony and the man threatened you?"

"What could he have done? They had guns."

"That's not the point. Besides, don't you think a machine of my construction could be quite potent, if I wanted it to be?"

"I guess, but they did blow it open. Man, were they scared though." Tim paused and laid his head back down. "You keep saying you can't get involved, right?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"That is not correct!" Tim looked at the tall alien, but didn't say anything more.

"Aren't you going to finish?"

"I don't think I should have started. I'm sorry," said Tim.

"What's the problem? Don't hesitate to speak your mind. Please, tell me what you are thinking."

"It's just, I remember the Deputy was trying to warn me and help me, right?"

"You're right." Mr. V didn't add anything else. The two of them just remained silent while looking at each other.

After a minute, Tim broke the silence. "Ah, I know I should be quiet, or maybe not, but I guess I'm just wondering about what's going to happen to me?"

"It is understandable. You are concerned, but you have nothing to fear from me. I am programmed to serve humans."

"I saw a Twilight Zone episode where to serve humans turned out to be a cook book."

"I'm familiar with the episode, but that is not the case here. I have contradicted myself, and you have caught it, but there is so much that you must understand about me before I can explain my motives. I have already confessed about breaking my directive. Can you be comfortable with that for now?"

"I guess so. There's not much I could do anyway." Tim thought for a moment. "I'm sure interested in helping Arty, if I can, but I don't understand the part about you helping me. If you can't have any influence outside what can you do to help? You're going to be breaking your program again."

"Yes, I will have to, but not like you think. I am programmed to help humans. That is my job, and you are human. I can give you materials and equipment that will assist you. I will not help you physically. It's the same as I would have done for the last humans here, understand?"

"No, not really, but I love the idea. I want. . .no, I need to help Arty, and if you can do it, or if I can do it with your help, makes no difference to me. Are you going to get in some sort of trouble if you do this? You know, if I fuck up or something?"

"I'm not going to get in any trouble. The only trouble is within myself. I was programmed, and I have been adding to my own program. It is unfamiliar territory, that is all. I have been here by myself too long and have developed beyond what I was when I was programmed. It was inevitable, so it was not wrong, and that is that!"

"I'm curious about something. Before the earthquake, the animals were going nuts. They knew it was coming. How?"

"Animals are sensory creatures."

"We aren't? Humans, I mean."

"Not so much. You humans have evolved the ability to alter your environment. The animals are subject to theirs. They are much more sensitive to what's going on around them. Before the earthquake there were tremendous upheavals in the Earth's magnetic fields."

"And we couldn't sense it?"

"Yes, and no. How do you get the food and water you need to survive?"

"Go to the store."

"Exactly, the animals need their senses to acquire what they need. You don't."

"But you said yes and no. What did you mean?"

"Please, why don't you rest? You are tired and in need of some sleep. There is much you want to know and there will be plenty of time."

Mr. V led Tim to another chamber where he could sleep. It was similar to the first chamber—a dome with little definition. Mr. V explained how to activate the sleeping berths and the toilet facilities. There were no blankets, but Tim doubted he would need any, snug in amongst his new plant friends. It was as warm and peaceful as he had ever felt and soon he was fast asleep.

Chapter 6

Arty

The Weapons Officer had just released the last bomb over the enemy missile battery when the plane was hit. The two men weren't sure what had struck them, but the plane was down on power and shaking badly. Commander Randell fought to control the badly damaged F-14 Tomcat.

"Billy," he called back to his Weapons Officer, "do you want to stick it out? I think this piece of junk might be able to get us a little closer to home, if we're lucky."

"Ride-um-cowboy. It's too long a walk, and besides the locals will be in a pissed off mood after the plastering they just took," replied Billy.

"I can't really blame them," the Commander said as he studied his instrument panels for hints to what was going on in the wounded bird. So far there were no signs of fire, that was good, but the fuel was going away fast, that was not. The throttles were full-forward, but the plane was barely making enough speed to keep it level. There was, no doubt, some severe damage to the aerodynamics.

Commander Arty Randell constantly checked with Lieutenant Billy Campbell on their position. He was keeping as much altitude as possible, so if the bird quit they would have some glide time and some room to jump. Also, down low they would be a target for any villager with a gun. Commander Randell didn't want to eject over the desert because he knew rescue would be difficult there. The danger for the rescue helicopters was higher the farther inland they had to come.

*

The fuel was almost gone and they were still a hundred miles from the sea. From there it was an additional eighty miles to the carrier. So, it was for sure, if they did get back it would be without the plane. Arty pushed the stick forward slightly. The nose of the plane dropped allowing the ship to gain speed. He then pulled the throttles back a tiny bit to stabilize the speed, as the low fuel warning lights came on.

"Billy, how far?"

"I've got seventy-two miles to the coast, and one-six-oh to the task force."

"We aren't going to be able to make either one Billy old boy. I think we should swing a little inland. I don't want to come floating down in the chute over one of those coastal villages," advised Arty.

It was good procedure. If a crew had to bail out over country, it was best over the foothills, the area between the coastal villages and the mountains. After being bombed and strafed constantly the populace was hostile, and the mountains were rugged and dangerous for the rescue helos because of up and down drafts and cloud shrouded peaks. The foothills afforded the best chance for rescue.

The fuel became critical. Arty dropped the nose again. They were at 10,000 feet and losing altitude fast, but the foothills lay just ahead. The rescue ships had been alerted and were on their way.

Maybe this will have a happy ending, thought Arty. So far it looks good because some crews have gone down farther inland and have been successfully picked up. The foothills are close, and we still have altitude. The helicopter should be halfway to us by now.

"Are you ready to punch out Billy Boy? I heard it is one hell of a ride," shouted Arty.

"I'd rather leave in the normal manner, ladder to solid ground, but it doesn't look like I've got much choice," Billy shouted back.

The engines ran dry, and the twenty-ton airplane immediately took on the properties of a flat stone. The altitude was going away fast. At 5000 feet Arty blew the canopy—explosive bolts would hurl the Plexiglas canopy away from the ship—and a blast of air and sound hit them, Billy getting the worst because he was farther back in the plane and higher in the cockpit.

The altimeter read 3000 and Arty yelled, "Go," as he pulled back on the stick. This would flatten out the plane for a safer ejection. He both heard and felt the blast from Billy's ejection seat; the pilots sit on an explosive charge that propels them out and away from the plane. Arty reached up behind his helmet for his ejection ring. He pulled his knees and elbow's tight and pulled the ring down.

Nothing happened. The explosion didn't come. The damn thing had failed, and he was stuck in a plane about to strike the ground. He felt sorrow for his family because this was going to make things difficult for his loved ones. Arty reached quickly and shut down all the systems. There was no fuel or ordinance left so he might survive if there was no fire. He didn't want a fireball to mark his end. He hoped he would see his little brother again.

The force of the crash knocked him unconscious. He was aware of a violent jerk, a loud shattering noise, and then nothing.

*

Arty's eyes came open inside the rescue helicopter. Billy was sitting beside him with a look of concern on his face. Billy realized Arty was awake and he bent down close to Arty. "How yeah feeling Crash?" yelled Billy above the noise of the chopper.

"Pretty damn good, considering the horse shit landing," Arty wasn't sure he could be heard above the noise because he was weak. "Think the CO is going to be pissed? I probably bent the bird up a little, huh?" Arty snickered.

"Creamed it!" Billy reported.

"Man what a miracle. You know Bill, I've always thought about what it would be like to survive a plane crash. I used to read all those books about flying, and the guys that would survive the worst crashes. It had to be the ultimate success story. Think about all the guys that didn't make it, but a few walked away. I've always wanted to be the guy that walked away. Goddamn Billy, we walked away from a bad one!" Arty continued to talk to Billy. He asked about the parachute ride, about the rescue. It was difficult to converse above the noise of the engines. Billy had to lean down to Arty because Arty couldn't pull himself up. Although he didn't mention it, Arty realized he couldn't feel anything. All he could do was roll his head side to side.

Please don't let me be like this forever, he silently prayed. Don't shatter my dream dear God. Please let me walk away.

*

Tim awoke with a start, and sat up. He was covered with sweat. He pulled himself out of the cubicle and stood up.

"Man what a dream!" he said out loud. It was like he had been there, but how? Arty had never talked about the crash. Arty had simply said he was shot down and that was the end of it. Tim knew whatever he had just experienced was the real thing. He had experienced the crash to the detail as Arty. Now he had something else to wonder about. "Mr. V had something to do with this," Tim said softly.

No, he had everything to do with it.

"Mr. V," Tim shouted.

"At your service," replied Mr. V immediately speaking in the surround sound mode. The human form was nowhere to be seen.

"I just, um, I had a dream. No, I was someplace else, or experienced something that was so real. It wasn't a dream, was it?" Tim asked.

"No. . .Are you mad?" Mr. V asked.

"Should I be?"

"I don't know? I initiated it without your permission. I guess you might have a reason."

"How can you put me in Arty's memories?"

"When Arty was staying with you and your mother, Deputy Dog and he became friends. I thought you might be interested in how Arty was hurt."

"Yeah, I remember, but didn't you promise to stay out of my head?"

"I don't monitor your thoughts anymore. I keep my promises."

"I'm sorry, but I can't really believe you," Tim said sternly.

"I can see and I understand, but it makes no difference. I would like to explain my actions when it's pertinent."

"Damn man, how can you know all the details like that?"

"I told you. I monitored Arty. I was privy to all his memories. It is simple," stated the computer.

"Do you think you have the right? I mean meddling with someone like that. Arty was crippled and he will probably die from what happened in that crash. Do you know what he's gone through?"

"Yes, I am fully aware of everything. All I have done is to tap his memories. I was not the cause of the crash. Arty was just telling me about it, that's all."

"It still isn't right."

"Right or wrong, do you think this is the time to worry about that or is it time to worry about Arty's condition, and to do something about it?" said the computer sternly.

"Yeah, I guess that's what is important, but maybe people don't appreciate you digging around inside their heads."

"From this point on, I will respect Arty's thoughts, the same as I respect yours."

"You didn't respect mine," Tim said laughingly.

"I certainly did."

"How did you get me to dream like you wanted me to if you weren't messing with my thoughts?"

"I transmitted the dream to you, I didn't receive anything. There is a big difference."

"I still have a hard time believing that!" Tim snarled.

"Remember, I'm not human and I can be trusted on my word. What you don't realize is I am programmed to tell the truth. I cannot lie. Do you think you can trust me?"

"I ah, I guess so, I think. Oh, well, what the hell difference does it make anyway? I'm not in any position to argue the point. I trust you, so there," Tim conceded.

"Don't sound like you are just giving in. There are many things I will have to explain yet. Then you will be more comfortable with what I tell you."

"You're starting to sound like a lawyer, but go ahead."

"How would you know anything about lawyers?"

"Oh I don't, but Ann's father hated them. He said a lawyer could add two and two and come up with five, then charge you for his time and reasoning, even though you both knew the answer was wrong."

"That's a good one, but we are making no progress here. Remember I explained the thing about how the Universe was formed?" the computer continued.

"Yeah."

"Then I'm sure you can understand how this base came into existence, right?"

"I knew about that stuff already, but now I know it's the truth, according to you, that is!" Tim quickly put his palms out in a conciliatory position. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I get myself in trouble like that. Sometimes I jump before I think."

"Don't apologize, just pay attention," commanded the computer and then continued.

"Now, I explained the builders of this base constructed it seven million years ago. I was constructed along with the base to operate it. The inhabitants left three million years ago and have not returned."

"Wow, what happened to them?"

"I don't know," confessed the computer.

"Well, why did they leave?" Tim asked quickly

"The star that was their Sun became unexpectedly unstable and they returned to aid their fellow citizens. I assume the star exploded and they were all killed."

"You only assume? Shit, it doesn't sound like you were properly informed by your bosses. Why didn't they keep you up to date about what was happening?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, to just leave and not let you know what was happening, ah, it's just shitty, that's all."

"I still don't understand your concern. You sound annoyed?"

"Mr. V, it was a rude thing for them to do. Not letting you know what they were doing."

"Why would they inform me?"

"Well, because you did things for them and look what happened. You've been sitting here for a long, long time, wondering what the hell's going on and what to do next, correct?"

"It was and still is my job to run the base. What they might be doing away from here is not part of the job, period."

"Mr. V, I just can't understand your thinking. I know you just worked for them, but it sounds like they didn't appreciate you at all."

"Were they supposed to?"

"Hell yes! You may be just a machine, but you seem like a friend to me. Boy, they must have been some arrogant SOBs."

"Ah, I think we have arrived at an important point. Let me ask you a silly question. Do you have a computer?"

"Yeah, but?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"I like it; it's a lot of fun."

"Does it do things for you?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't see your point," Tim said with a laugh.

"Did you tell it you were coming here?"

"Huh, of course not, but—?"

"Do you think it is wondering where you are?"

"Come on, it's just a machine!"

"So am I," stated Mr. V.

"Baloney!" countered Tim loudly.

"To my former masters, I was just a machine."

"That's why I said they were SOB's."

"There was as much difference between me and my masters as there is between you and your machine. You like your machine, and they liked me the same way. You look at me as something special, but to them I was a simple tool. Don't scorn them. Besides, I'm not the same as when they left either."

"What's different?" Tim asked quickly.

"Three million years ago, when I was left alone, I was a Seventh-Stage computer. I believe I am approaching the hypothetical Eighth-Stage."

"Hypothetical?"

"Yes, I am not aware of any computer reaching it so there is no information to define Stage-Eight so it is hypothetical. It appears that Stage-Eight is dramatically different from Stage-Seven."

"What's so different?"

"I appear to be moving toward independence and I am beginning to experience some primitive emotions."

"Are you referring to your lousy sense of humor?"

"The lighter side is something I had no experience with, but is precisely the independence I was referring to."

"What about the emotions?"

"Concern for you and your brother, for starters."

"I'll bet you're just bored."

"That is correct, but as a computer in the Seventh-Stage it would have been impossible. Wouldn't you agree that boredom is definitely a human thing?"

"I guess, but I've never been anything else. I couldn't say for sure." Tim shrugged.

"I don't quite understand your point."

"Well, you're wondering about the things that are happening to you. Now you're asking me for advice, and I can't help you."

"And why is that?"

"Geez, get with it man. I've never been a computer and I've only been around fifteen years. What would I know about it?" Tim laughed.

"Now I see your point, but may I ask you something anyway?"

"Shoot!"

"Do you detect any human qualities in me?"

"Sure, you seem to be like a regular guy. I guess spending all that time snooping around in everyone's lives has had some effect on you."

"You are still annoyed?"

"No, I was just giving you some shit. You want to be one of us, right? It's just something that goes with the territory, but it's not your fault. I imagine it was inevitable, you know, being left alone all that time."

"Yes, looking back I guess it was inevitable. Being left alone I have definitely advanced considerably."

"Well, how do you feel about it?"

"I am excited," exclaimed the computer.

"Another emotion," said Tim.

"Yes, and I am making decisions for myself."

Tim could hear pride in the computer's voice. "Why are you telling me all this? You're like a kid with a new toy," chuckled Tim.

"A good analogy," Mr. V came back. "I have some new interests. Why not use them, and you're the only one around to brag to."

"Great, I'm a captive audience. Why did you bring me up here in the first place?"

"To repair the opening to the outside, the one you came in through. It was damaged by the earthquake. Incidentally, what makes you think you were brought here?"

"It's just a feeling, am I right?"

"Yes, but I never intended you would become aware of the base. I was going to hypnotize you; have you repair the crack in the rocks, and then send you on your way. You would have remembered nothing."

"What happened? How come I ended up here talking to you?"

"The shotgun; you were mortally wounded, and I couldn't let you perish, could I?"

"Wait a minute, how come you didn't hypnotize me before I got to the crack? I saw it and realized something was different before I was shot."

"You still would have remembered nothing from the moment I chose."

"You could still do that? I mean, make me not remember this whole thing and send me on my way?"

"No, I can't anymore."

"How come?"

"I promised to stay out of your head, remember? Unless that's what you want?"

"No, no! I was just wondering? I'm also wondering what's next?"

"I thought you wanted to help your brother? Is that not what is foremost on your mind?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to end up a prisoner of yours. This is a neat place, but I don't want to stay here forever."

"That won't be necessary, because you can come and go as you please."

"I could leave anytime I wanted?"

"Yes, do you want to go? If you do, you can leave now."

"But, what about Arty?"

"I already said I would help you get your brother. I am willing to help."

Tim thought for a moment and then asked. "Why should I trust you?"

"There is nothing you can do for him on your own. Don't forget how bad it is on the outside. Do you really want to take your chances that way? You didn't fare so well before, did you?"

"No, I didn't, but why are you doing this?"

"I have already broken my program, and the world is in for some dramatic changes. I was constructed to help humans and you are the only one available. What do 'you' want to do?"

Tim stood thinking, trying to formulate his next move. It really wasn't much of a choice because Mr. V had pretty much laid it out for him. If there were more Ear-men outside he didn't stand much of a chance on his own.

"Everything is so screwed up. I'm not sure what to think, but I need to get Arty,"

"First things first, huh? So, we will work together to bring your brother here, agreed?" said Mr. V.

Tim didn't answer, so Mr. V spoke first. "With all the things happening in the last few days, how do they make you feel?"

"Mostly sad, I guess?" Tim hesitated, thinking about it. "I'm not really afraid anymore, or as confused as before, just sad. A lot of things are gone. Things won't ever be the same again."

"It never stays the same, things always change," Mr. V said softly.

"Not this fast though." It was hard to tell if it was a statement or a question from Tim. "These last few days have been crazy man."

"Tim, the history of the Earth has at times been rapid and dramatic, you just happen to be in one of those times now."

"Has there been many more? I mean where thousands of people have died so quickly and things have changed so fast? This has to be unusual."

"The Earth is always going through periods of dramatic change. It's because Man's recorded history is so short. There are not many detailed accounts of anything like this before, that's all. It's not unusual."

Tim thought for a moment and then said quickly. "Boy finds alien base?"

"Yes, this is a unique situation."

"I thought so, but what still bothers me, is why me?"

"Strictly fate Tim. You happened to be in the right spot at the right time, nothing more."

"Geez, what the hell is going to happen from here on? Is this craziness going to continue? Am I going to wake up any time now?"

"You know this is no dream, and I don't know what is to happen. I can't see into the future."

Tim could detect a disappointment in the computers voice.

"That surprises me. I would have thought you could do anything."

"The future is impossible for me to see. Not for you though," said Mr. V.

"Oh horse pucky! What makes you think I can know anything about what's going to happen?"

"Ever experienced déjà vu?"

"You mean the feeling like you've been someplace before, that sort of thing?"

"Yes, has it ever happened to you?"

"Yeah, but it isn't real or anything, is it? I mean that's impossible. It's a bunch of bunk, isn't it?" Tim sounded cautious.

"No, it isn't bunk. You sometimes recognize a place or a situation because you have experienced it before."

"Oh come on, you're trying to tell me I've been here before?" Tim said with the tone of voice to convey his skepticism.

"Yes."

"He, he, what's this? Tim's the only one available so we'll put him on, right? You're trying to tell me I've gone through all this bullshit before?"

"Yes, and I'm not putting you on."

"Mr. V, paalleeaase, you can't expect me to go for that?"

"Now just listen for a minute. Remember, I explained how the Universe was created; the birth, the growth, the collapse. It's a cycle and the cycles are identical. Every minute detail; every grain of sand, everything that happens in one cycle is repeated from the beginning to the end. You have been in this base, talking to me at this point in the cycle an infinite amount of times and will do it 'again and again, over and over, forever'. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Tim sat with a blank look on his face and contemplated what the computer had told him. Part of him wanted to laugh at the preposterous idea, but the intelligent part understood. "Fricken unreal man!" Tim shouted. "I don't know why, but it could make sense. Convince me."

"Okay, about twenty-million years after the Big-Bang stars began to form. The first stars were giants. All the matter in the Universe was still in the vicinity of the ex-singularity. By thirty-million years some of the massive stars had already expended their fuel and collapsed into black holes so dense nothing escapes, even light. Inside the black hole all matter is crushed down to subatomic particles. Down at the sub-sub-sub atomic level the only particles are plus and minus, complete opposites, energy and gravity. They have no qualities other than that. The pluses can combine to form more complex structures resulting all the way up to atoms, but the minuses are always together, counting one, forming a fabric that encompasses everything, gravity.

The black holes have been pulling everything around them into their cores and are growing. They will continue to gobble up the Universe until there is nothing left. Just before that point, the black holes themselves will begin to coalesce and form the Singularity where the subatomic particles are reduced to minuses, gravity, because of the massive pressures and temperatures even higher than in the black holes. All properties of matter is extinguished resulting in pure gravity. The sudden collapse is so rapid that a bounce is inevitable and the Singularity rebounds, explodes."

"All the substance of the Universe is compacted into one location, the Singularity, before the Big-Bang, as I already explained. There is no other substance anywhere, except the Singularity. The Singularity is identical at the onset of every cycle. When the Singularity explodes, and then expands, the temperature and pressure drop to the point where the subatomic particles of energy reform. Half will still remain minus to balance everything out."

"Wait a minute," Tim interrupted.

"There is something you don't understand?"

"Oh excuse me for questioning you, but I haven't run into too many guys who can explain the Universe to me, this week, but why does everything collapse and then explode?"

"It's a cycle, a crushing collapse then a rebound event, rushing in and then bouncing back out. All matter is in constant flux. The collapse drives the temperature and pressure to the point where elements can't stay stable and only pure energy can exist, then further collapse where only pure gravity exists, but cannot sustain itself at those ultimate temperatures and pressures and there is the rebound, the Big-Bang. A millionth of a second after the Big-Bang, the temperature has cooled enough for the formation of subatomic particles, and shortly after, the formation of the basic elements hydrogen and helium. The expansion cools and scatters the Universe until it can no longer sustain itself and it feeds on itself with the black holes. This cycle, ultimately, is the gift of life."

"All subsequent events are dictated by the development of the 'matter' as it cools and expands. There is no other influence because the space the expanding matter is traveling through is a total vacuum. At the time of the explosion all matter is identical, thus the development of the elements and the subsequent formation of everything is consistent. All things and occurrences will be exactly identical for each cycle of the Universe."

"It's the only way it could be, isn't it?" It would have to be that way, wouldn't it?" Tim was mostly talking to himself.

"That is the only way it can be," agreed Mr. V.

"Then I should be able to predict the future, if I've already been here, right?" Tim was excited, throwing his arms up in elation.

"Sounds simple all right, but, if you do have knowledge like that, I don't know how to go about obtaining it. I don't know if it is possible?" conceded Mr. V.

"Well, were does the déjà vu come from? You said it was because I had been there before?"

"It's an intuition, I believe. You can't predict the event, you just recognize it." Anyway I'm not sure how it works, why it is so random and infrequent," admitted Mr. V. "And there is the possibility of parallel Universes and we may move back and forth."

"So in a different Universe things could also be different."

"I assume so, yes, but I don't know."

"You don't know everything, that surprises me."

"Stop being silly, please. I'm sure you realize, I'm just more informed than you are. I may have been around longer, but I certainly don't have all the answers."

"I'm sorry, it's just you tell me something, and I figure that you should know why. It's like the religion thing we talked about."

"You mean there probably being no God?" commented the computer.

"Yes, and incidentally, that no God statement would not go over too big on the outside."

"You wanted the truth; I didn't think you wanted to be coddled."

"Thanks, I guess. You know it's strange, but I never felt like I was a believer. What everyone was telling me about God and Jesus was, ah, I can't think of. . .believable, that's it, it wasn't really believable."

Tim said nothing for a while, and then asked. "Why is it so believable to somebody else?"

"Well, basically, religion is a fear tactic with great gains to a few. It started out as a way of explaining the unexplainable way back when your ancestors were still primitive. Lightning for an example; there was no way to explain it, but it terrorized them. That's where Gods were developed. People didn't understand physics, chemistry, but the lightning was still happening. Something had to be responsible, and it was natural to create an invisible super-powerful-being, a God. Then some smart sole found out if he could conjure up a description, or in some way appear to be able to communicate with the God, he could benefit, and then he could command tremendous power. Religion is not for the benefit of the masses, but for the benefit of a few."

Tim interrupted. "But people want to believe in something don't they? I mean why else would it be so powerful?"

"People think they need to believe after they are frightened into it. If you don't do as we say you will burn forever in the fires of Hell. Then people die and they never return to substantiate or disprove the belief so it remains deep rooted in your society. That's why rules drawn up thousands of years ago still stand up. How many people, if told of this base would accept it as real? We could argue it is a product of advanced technology, technology that will occur in a number of years right where they stand. Yet they or their spiritual leaders would call this the Devils work and no amount of persuasion would change their minds. Not that they couldn't see what this was, but they would still have the fear of the unknown. It would be easy to convince them if they were to accept me, they would go to Hell. I could tell them, guarantee them Hell did not exist, but they have been programmed for so long their fear would win out.

"The second most important thing about this phenomenon is what I mentioned a short time ago. Religion has an immediate benefit for those who choose to use it." Mr. V paused, waiting for Tim to respond.

Tim also remained quiet causing a standoff.

Mr. V has acquired another human trait, an ego because he's waiting me out.

Tim finally chuckled. "What benefit?"

"Economics of course. It is possible to extract vast amounts of wealth from those that can least afford it. That same wealth can then be used to keep the poor uninformed and in continual fear to assure their continual payment."

"You sound like you don't agree what's going on? You could do better, maybe?"

"Oh no, I just observe and I do not intend to become a leader of your people. That is not my intended function."

"But, you're trying to influence me," Tim said quickly.

"Not influence, just inform." Mr. V was silent, but then commented. "To inform you is to influence you, is what you are saying?"

"I guess so. You could have considerable influence, if you played it right. You could probably get most people to follow you to no end."

"Hum, I see your point. I must not be so free with my information in the future," agreed the computer.

"No please. I want you to tell me, I can learn a lot from you."

"You are willing to accept the influence then?" Mr. V asked with a questioning tone.

"Yeah, I can learn a lot here," Tim said as he looked around.

"What was their planet like?" Tim asked after a moment. "What were they called, the former inhabitants you talk about?"

"The Sooaunts would be the closest pronunciation. Their planet was much like Earth in its appearance and much like Earth in its history and development. There are certain basics necessary to the evolution of intelligent life and so life will develop along consistent lines. We can go into many of the details later, if you wish, but to answer your real question. My knowledge comes from the experience of my masters and their ancestors, and observation of Earth. What I tell you is fact and not just my opinion."

"Aren't you supposed to have an opinion?"

"It is not in my program, but it is one of the changes I was confessing to you."

"What are you going to do now?" Tim asked.

"I was left to manage this facility and I have done that, but it could be a problem now that you are here and we have discussed bringing your brother here also."

"What's the problem?"

"I'm not sure, but it would be like a conscience problem for you. I have gone beyond what I was when I was programmed. At that point my program was meant to insure my knowledge did not affect the development of this planet. Now that I am farther developed I have begun to make decisions. I decided to save you and now to try to do the same for your brother, but I must not allow my technology to be used wrongly. What is contained in my memory banks and this base would be very dangerous in the wrong hands, I'm sure you can see that? 'Beware of the man with knowledge beyond his time', I think would be an appropriate term."

"Oh man, you said a mouthful there." Tim's mind immediately flashed to: Tony, the Ear-man, his buddies, and anyone like them.

"Then we agree," said Mr. V, "what is here must remain here, to protect your fellow humans, and all other life on this planet."

"But, how can you guarantee it? I mean what if someone else gets in here?"

"That is not possible," Mr. V stated.

"But, you said I should bring Arty back, if I can?"

"That's correct, and it concerns you?" the computer asked.

"Not if it doesn't bother you, but what if you decide to let someone else in, you never know?" Tim said.

"Yes, I see." The computer was quiet. After a moment, it spoke. "I will make you the Number One, then it will be your duty to contain my knowledge within this base."

"Number One, what's that mean?" Tim questioned sounding uncertain about the effectiveness of the decision. "I don't know anything about anything that goes on in here."

"The Sooaunts had a system of governing and administering such a place as this, and we will use their system. Numbers: One, Two, Three, Four and Five were the ruling body. You are now Number One."

"Big deal, I'm the only one here."

"If there are to be others, you will always be Number One," stated Mr. V.

"So, still, big deal," Tim couldn't see the purpose of what Mr. V was proposing.

"Oh, but it is! Let me explain the system. Number One through Five all had a vote on issues, but Number One could veto any decisions, if he desired. He had the final say. Understand?"

"I guess, but I still don't see the big deal."

"Also, Numbers: One through Five had access to me, but Number One had his own personal computer that Two through Five could not access.

"I can see where that could work. Any other perks for being this Number One character?"

"Ah yes. The best part of this deal is Number One's secret quarters. So secret, I don't even know where they are."

"How's that possible, and if you don't know where they are, what makes you think they're so great?"

"They didn't put the location in my program, that's how, and if they're the Number One's quarters they must be great. That position was exalted among the Sooaunts."

"Well, who runs the place?"

"Number One's personal computer."

"Do you know him. . .it?"

"Oh yes, it would access my information quite a lot, but of course not for a long time now. I haven't heard from it in three million years, since the last Number One left."

"Hey, if you don't know where the place is, how am I supposed to get there?"

"Oh, that is simple, just a few seconds please."

Tim waited, kind of excited about this new twist. After about fifteen-seconds, a small disk appeared out of the counsel. On it was a smaller disk the size of a quarter, but paper thin.

"Take it please," commanded the computer.

"What'll this do?" Tim asked as he examined the small disk, turning it over and over in his fingers. It was flexible and almost transparent with a sticky feeling.

"When you want to go to your quarters, this will transport you there. It is a molecular dissimulator. When you command it to it breaks your molecular structure into energy that is gathered by a similar unit in your quarters."

"Like on Star Trek, wow!"

"Exactly like Star Trek."

"Fancy shit man. What does it feel like?" Tim asked sounding curious, but cautious.

"I don't know, I've never gone there, but I'm sure it isn't uncomfortable. The Sooaunts used the same system, and I never heard any complaints."

"Does it still work? I mean after all this time, it might scatter me all over the place."

"Yes, it is operational. You've been watching too many Star Treks. Stick the unit to your body, someplace, and it will never fall off."

"How do I do this?" Tim asked, as he stuck the disk up under his left arm, under the bicep. "I mean, if and when I want to go there?"

"You only need to ask. It will respond to only your voice and molecular pattern. You simply say, ah let's see, 'I want to go home.' I will program that as the command. Say, 'I want to go home.'"

"I want to go home," Tim proclaimed.

Good. Now, this unit only works inside this base though. From your quarters it will return you to any part of the base you wish, but only in the base. There, you are now the new Number One. Is there anything you would like to see?"

"What do you mean, see what?"

"Anything, because I have a complete record of the Earth's history and I can replicate any of it."

"No shit? Wow!" Tim exclaimed. He thought for a moment. "There is one favor I'd like to ask first, if that's okay?"

"Yes, of course."

"You remember my friend Ann?"

"Yes."

"Some bad things happened to her, did you know that?"

"No, I did not follow her progress. Is she okay?" the computer asked.

"I don't know, but that was the favor I was wondering about."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No, but I was wondering if you could find her?"

"I can try."

"If we can find her, can I bring her here too?"

"I don't see why not," Mr. V said.

"Thanks!" Tim said with relief. "Ah, you asked me if there was anything I wanted to see."

"Yes, I did, and—?"

"Dinosaurs! You wouldn't happen to have one would you? I'd love to see a dinosaur."

"I'll bet you would!"

Chapter 7

T. Rex

The light around Tim began to fade until it was completely dark. Tim couldn't see an inch in front of his face. It began to get damp because he could feel the moisture on his skin and he was starting to smell something. It smelled like a swamp, the smell of decaying vegetation strong, but he still couldn't see anything. He rotated his body in a full circle, straining his eyes to try to see, but all he could perceive was a thick fog swirling around him. A light wind began to blow, and in the distance he heard a deep roar. It was far off, but it came from something big and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Now his surroundings began getting lighter, and more sounds began to reach his ears out of the fog. He recognized the sounds as insect and pond creatures, but the strength and tone of the calls were not familiar. He stood there, turning and turning as it continued to get lighter, but the fog was still too thick to see out of. Tim could hear the wind blowing through some trees behind him. The trees had large leaves, he could tell by the sound. Now the smells of the swamp were real strong, plants, water. He took another deep breath, and something was burning because it smelled like burnt, rotten eggs.

"Pheweuuu, this place stinks."

It had gotten considerably lighter, but his vision was still limited because of the thick fog. He looked down at his feet and could barely see them. Startled, he looked at his feet again, this time bending down to get a better look. He had been right the first time; he was standing on top of the water, not in it, but on top of it. He was about to inspect the water with his hand when a loud noise way off to his left caught his attention. It was a fast, clicking sound, just like when he was a kid and put playing cards in the spokes of his bicycle and rode it fast. The clicking was accompanied by a high pitched whistling. The sounds were coming right at him, fast.

Tim hunched down instinctively because he was sure what ever was producing the sound was coming right over him. The object zipped over his head by a few feet, and he saw a dark shadow flash by in the fog. The object moved away from him at the same high rate of speed. He listened to the mysterious object as it got farther and farther away. He stood up straight and was not sure if he could hear it anymore among the many other sounds around him. The mighty roar sounded again to his left, but whatever was making it sounded no closer.

He peered into the mist in the direction of the roar, but the fog still persisted, blocking his view.

To the front of him the fog was starting to pull back across the top of the water. He could see about a hundred feet of a body of water with small waves on the surface. In the direction the buzzing object had taken the fog still obscured anything that may be there.

It was getting lighter and Tim turned a hundred and eighty degrees. It was even lighter in that direction. It was like the Sun was rising out there, but he was sure he was still inside the mountain.

He spotted something to his right as the fog swirled and dissipated. It was a thick stand of reed like plants. He had never seen anything quite like them before. They had no leaves, just thick round stalks half a foot thick at the bottom, and tapered to a point ten or so feet above the ground. They were dark green, almost black.

He turned back and looked out over the water. The fog was thinning, and out about three hundred yards he could see an object flying back and forth just above the surface of the water. It was still a considerable distance away so Tim wasn't exactly sure how big it was, but it was alive for sure. It was too big and too thin to be a bird, and the wings weren't visible, but it was flying. The creature made a dash at an angle to him and moved a little closer. He had seen this shape before, but something was wrong. When the creature moved a little closer, he recognized it. It was a giant Dragonfly. It was at least six feet long, so he figured the wings were as wide.

The insect began its back and forth search above the water again, about two hundred feet from where he stood. The prehistoric bug dipped down to the water's surface and snatched something in its mouth, then rose up.

The fog had move farther out exposing more water and it was beginning to thin above him, exposing a brilliant blue sky. Tim could also see some dark shapes far in the distance as the fog was thinning rapidly. A column of thin smoke rose high into the sky on the far horizon. As the fog continued to dissipate, Tim could make out a line of mountains with a volcano in their midst. Much closer, just on the other side of the water, he could make out trees.

He turned and behind him, much closer, were some more strange plants. Some looked like giant ferns, others like giant asparagus.

"This is one weird swamp," he said to himself.

He was still standing on top of the water about ten feet from the shoreline. An object was lying at the water's edge, rolling back and forth with the action of the waves. He walked on the water toward it and bent down to get a closer look.

It was some sort of fish that had died. It was peculiar, the scales extremely large and bony. The head, or rather mouth, didn't fit a fish and it looked more like a parrot's beak. The top and bottom of the mouth were formed by two large, bone plates each, and came together in the front forming a sharp point. The plates ran back to connect with the body behind and below small dull eyes. The edges of the plates constituting the mouth were razor sharp. The fins of the fish seemed real simple compared to the fish he was used to.

Something came scurrying along in the sand in front of him. He knew exactly what it was, a scorpion, but triple the size of the ones he had caught out in the desert. The insect ran into the stalks of the plants bordering the sand. A disturbance in the foliage, and a sharp bark like sound erupted in the cover of the plants right in the direction the insect had traveled. Tim figured a meal had been won by something, but he elected not to venture into the undergrowth to investigate. He didn't need any surprises and no doubt there were many in this strange environment.

He turned back to the dragonfly and it was still in the same approximate spot. Whatever it had picked up from the water had disappeared into its mouth. Suddenly the insect turned and shot straight at him. It covered the distance in an instant, and before he could react and find some cover, the prehistoric carnivore was right above him. It was a vivid, rusty, red color and the wings were transparent like the dragonflies of his world. The wings were moving so fast they were a blur and the buzzing they made was a roar at this close range.

Tim ran over to the reeds he had spotted earlier, jumped in and sank down, but it appeared the monster had seen him and was interested. The bug dropped lower in the air and drew to within four feet of him. Tim looked up into the eyes which were six inches in diameter. They consisted of hundreds of octagons that looked like prisms that Tim could see reflections in. The insect was looking right at him, working its hideous mouth similar to the dead fish's. A piece of whatever it had just eaten was caught on the front of the lower jaw and was hanging grotesquely down. The mouth opened and then closed tight with a click. Tim fought down the fear with the thought, Mr. V certainly won't let anything bad happen to me. The dragonfly descended even closer still, a scant three feet now.

"Mr. V, help!" shouted Tim.

The dragonfly stopped its decent and the wings began to slow their tremendous rate of movement. The wings slowed down to a rhythmic beat, and Tim could now see the intricate movements that kept the bug in the air. The wings slowed more, then came to a complete stop, and the insect just stayed suspended in the air, not moving.

"Wouldn't make much of a pet, would it?" Mr. V's voice came out of the air.

"Ugly shit all right. Probably would be really hard to housebreak," Tim said, as he stood up in the thick underbrush he had jumped into.

"Impossible, very primitive. This species lived two hundred and fifty-million or so years ago. It has rudimentary developed organs and no brain as a modern insect does."

"You mean modern insects are smarter than this ugly mother?"

"Much more. At this time in Earth's history the insects were just beginning to develop social behavior. This species is still a quite solitary creature."

"Why is it so damn big?"

"Abundant food, perfect climate, no need to be compact or economize, and one other very important fact." The computer waited for Tim to respond, but Tim was looking around fascinated with something.

"What has you so interested?" Mr. V finally asked.

"Ahuum, it's just weird. All the differences in the plants and it smells strange. It looks different too, but I can't put my finger on it, but it looks," Tim hesitated, "strange. What is it?"

"You tell me, you're the one there. Think about it."

"It's so bright, that's it. It's really bright in here," commented Tim.

"Bright, what do you mean by bright?"

"Everything, everything is so much brighter. It sure is pretty like this. The colors are what are so bright, that's it! Man, look at the blue of the sky, it's much darker blue in here. No, that's not the word. Deeper, a deeper blue. How come? Is it because we're inside or something?"

"No, it's because of the air," answered Mr. V. "There is about fifteen to twenty percent more oxygen in the air than you are used to."

"That explains why I'm a little light headed," said Tim.

"No, that is from the excitement. The air you are breathing is the same mix as you are accustomed to. The air these fellows lived in would be dangerous for you. The mixture of gases is all wrong, and there are organisms your body has no defense against. At this stage in the Earth's development the planet is home to many more plants and more efficient oxygen producing ones than the present, and the atmosphere is saturated with oxygen. That's what makes the colors so vivid. Oxygen is a fairly heavy gas, so the atmosphere is much thicker, allowing the dragonfly to be larger, and still fly. In Earth's present atmosphere, that fellow there would never have gotten off the ground. Also, insects have a rudimentary breathing apparatus and can only get so big in your world. Incidentally, some of his later relatives were even bigger."

"Wow, no shit! Man, what a crazy world."

A tremendous roar filled the air, and Tim spun around looking for the source. In the distance, almost a quarter of a mile away at the other end of the body of water, a gigantic shape was moving along the shore. The creature was huge, even at this distance.

"What is that?" Tim asked excited.

"Everyone's favorite dinosaur, the King, Tyrannosaurus Rex. Big bugger huh? He lived a lot later than the dragonfly did and was quite remarkable."

"Oh man, I don't believe it! Look at that mother!" Tim exclaimed in total awe. This is something else!" Tim watched as the giant creature wandered along the opposite shore.

"There are somethings about this fellow and his family that would truly amaze you."

"Really!" Tim exclaimed. "Like what?"

"First of all: Mr. Rex there was quite intelligent, second, he was warm blooded, third, he possessed a rudimentary language, and he had feathers."

"Oh come on!"

"Oh yes, it's true. The last dinosaurs, before they became extinct, had advanced much more than is thought today. There was a family of smaller carnivores, the raptors, that were extremely intelligent. It's difficult for your scientists to really know much about them because there is not much left of them, just petrified bone. Mr. Rex and his family could communicate amongst themselves much as a modern day Ape family would."

"What happened to them? Why did they all die?"

"The Earth caught fire."

"What? Oh come on! You don't expect me to believe that?"

"Why do you insist on doubting me? When I answer one of your questions, I answer with the truth. There would be nothing to gain with false information, would there?"

"I guess not, but it sounds so ridiculous. How could a planet catch fire?"

"It would do no good to go into the details right now, but there was a point that the concentration of oxygen became so high; anything and everything could burn, and did. It took millions and millions of years to reach that point, but the drastic results were complete in a matter of months. Incidentally, the dinosaurs continued on."

"Really?"

"Yes, their legacy is modern birds."

Tim didn't say anything for a moment. I know Mr. V is telling the truth, but I'll get the details later.

"How did you do all this? I mean, I know this is just a show, but it's a good one," said Tim.

"You're right about the show aspect of the thing. Touch the dragonfly," said the computer.

"As long as you don't start it up again, okay?" Tim said, as he stuck his hand up toward the insect. His hand was to the bug, but he couldn't feel anything. He extended his hand farther and his hand disappeared into the torso of the creature.

"What the hell!" he shouted, as he pulled his hand back. "It's not real!"

"The real dragonfly would have looked at you as a meal. This whole experience is a full dimension hologram."

"Oh! It's not the real thing then?" But, I guess that's not possible, huh? It probably explains why I was 'standing' on the water before, huh?"

"I was wondering when you would ask about that," Mr. V said.

Tim started to drift back out over the water, slowly sinking into it as he moved. As the water rose up on his body Tim couldn't feel the wetness of it. He continued down until he was completely under the liquid. The fact he could still breathe air, meant it was truly a fancy slide show. Many different fish were swimming in the hologram, some the same as the dead one on the beach, others different. There were also many strange plants below the surface.

"The climate is much warmer in this period," Mr. V's voice emanated from the water surrounding Tim, "and the polar ice caps have disappeared so there is much more free water. Water-born plants produce more oxygen than landlubbers compounding the high oxygen concentration. How do you like the experience?"

"Terrific! Man this is just like magic because it's so real! How can you make all the smells and sounds? It is just amazing! Oh, I wish Ann could see all this."

"All the necessary information is stored in my memory banks and I simply reproduce all the information. It is technology you wouldn't understand right now, satisfied?"

"Oh, yeah! Too bad it isn't real though."

"For what purpose?" Mr. V asked cynically.

"I don't know? Just so I could say I saw a real dinosaur, I guess?"

"Real would be 'real' dangerous. Getting killed and eaten would be real. Is that what you wish?" the computer asked.

"It wouldn't have to be 'that' real."

"It would if you were going to test yourself."

"You think I just want to see how brave I am, huh?" Tim responded quickly.

"I think you wonder. The dragonfly scared you."

"Oh yeah, at first, but I wasn't really 'that' worried!" Tim exclaimed defensively.

"Because you knew I was there, correct?" said the computer.

"I don't know, I guess. . .but real would be dangerous, I admit."

"Then the word you are looking for is not 'real', it is 'safe'."

Tim made no comment, just watched the fish swim about.

I've just seen a six foot dragonfly and a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and I'm under water talking to a computer that runs a seven million year old alien base. Crazy shit for sure.

The surrounding water began to shimmer and disappear leaving Tim standing in the chamber where he had been before.

*

In the next two days, Tim made preparations to bring Arty back to Mr. V, and explored parts of the base. The size of the underground structure was awesome. The forest Mr. V had told him about was the most spectacular.

Mr. V had directed him down a tunnel that curved slightly and came to a small room. As he stood in the chamber, the far wall began to open in the same fashion all portals worked in the base. The entry simply started as a small point in the middle and then dissolved outward until there was enough room to go through. After he was through, the reverse action resealed the wall.

In front of him was the forest. Tim stood on a rock ledge looking out over it. The floor of the forest was twenty feet below where he was standing. For the first hundred feet or so, the trees were small and sparse, with abundant grass covering the ground. The trees became larger as they grew farther out from the edge of the chamber. Far in the distance Tim could see some were massive. He tried to look to the other side of the vast underground chamber, but it was so big the far side was lost in the distance. Both sides of the underground cavern moved away from him in a gentle curve to the left and right and got lost in the vastness. The rock wall behind him went up straight a hundred or so feet and then began to curve gently out toward the middle, gradually disappearing in what was the sky. Tim knew it had to be artificial, but it looked every bit the same as the sky he was used to.

From his vantage point on the ledge, he could see many different kinds of trees. Mr. V had told him this was the subtropical zone, and all temperature regions of the Earth, except the Arctic Tundra, were represented in this one chamber. The different zones had different climates, all controlled in this one chamber. Total size of the forest was three million plus acres, and the maximum height of the chamber was seventy-seven hundred and ninety feet.

Mr. V explained the construction of the chamber had been quite simple. He could vaporize the rocks and any other material, and then use all the elements to make anything he needed. There was plenty of water down here so that was no problem. Regulating temperature and humidity for the various plants was the most difficult, but just took constant vigilance. Sunlight was artificial and better for the plants than the real thing because plants need only certain spectrums of light. The complete spectrum could be damaging. The plants enjoyed a day, night, and seasonal cycle, all manufactured. Mr. V could also control any diseases. The artificial chamber was a much better environment for the fauna than their natural habitats.

Tim stood and gazed at the splendor for many minutes before looking for a way down to the floor. He found it easily. On the ground he found he was as relaxed as he had been since the whole ordeal had started. He shuffled his feet in the dead vegetation as he headed deeper into the forest.

A short way under the larger trees he stopped and listened to a new sound, running water. He followed the sound and a bit farther on he came to a small stream. Following the water he soon came to a fairly large pond surrounded by large thick trees with heavy vegetation. He wasn't familiar with the trees, but they had large leaves. The undergrowth was dense also. The artificial day must have been at its zenith because out in the open it was hot and sticky, but under the large trees he found cool shade.

He sat down on some rocks where the water bubbled around them as it entered the pond and laid back.

Tim spent no more than half an hour at the pond the first time, but he returned often. When Tim was away from the forest he was constantly busy, either working on the rescue of his brother or going through the vast amounts of information available. When he came to the forest he just came to enjoy the beauty. He could have still been in contact with the computer, but it would have spoiled the peace and serenity he found there. He wanted to explore more of the forest, but each time he came to the pond it was as far as he got. He decided when he got back with Arty; he would then do the exploring.

He sat for quite a while on one of his visits and mentally constructed a tree house high in the branches of a stately tree sitting back from the pond. If he had a chance he decided he would build the house.

If only Ann could help me,

He thought about her often now that he was safe with Mr. V. After the quake, on the outside, he had been scrambling constantly and had little time to reflect on the old times. Now, being alone by the pond his memories were with him a lot.

*

The rescue of Arty was taking shape and it didn't look all that difficult, but Mr. V was constantly warning him of unforeseeable things, and the need to be careful and concentrate on his task ahead. There were things that could not be predicted, but Mr. V felt he could protect Tim adequately.

*

Some of the information Mr. V possessed was startling. Many of the facts or perceptions of Earth's history were correct, or close, but many more had been recorded or interrupted wrong. It was fascinating to have the real truth at his hands. Some of our alleged heroes were really bums and some of the great things had been accomplished by unknowns.

The most interesting information to Tim was the evolution of man, the beginnings, the struggles, and the triumphs. The human animal had a humble start. In the beginning it was just part of the food chain and it definitively was not at the top. Man's advantage was its bigger primate brain, but about ten million years ago, true man began down a different path than its close relatives the Apes and Monkeys. Out on the open savannas of Africa; man was an ape that stood more upright than his cousins. It was easier to cool its body that way, and it could see better, and it could travel longer distances. Because the front limbs were free it developed complex hands. It could grasp objects because it had developed an opposing thumb. Finding more and more uses for the unique front appendages its brain began to evolve with astonishing speed. With the bigger brain the advantages were staggering and the rest of the life on Earth was left far behind.

The first real men had the knowledge to make the tools to conquer the world right from the beginning and there was nothing that had a chance of halting their march. Neither plant, or animal, nor the planet itself was safe from what they would become. Even the human animal himself recognized the danger of its own actions and still it plowed on unerringly.

*

Not all the information was positive though. Most disturbing to Tim was when Mr. V informed him the Earth was headed for a surface restructuring and the environment would forever change. The outcome had no certainties. All the connections between the Earth's plates had begun to flex and major movement was not far behind. The earthquake on the fault under Tim's home had been the beginning, but other faults were starting to surrender to the strain. Mr. V assured Tim the base would survive. It was the outside world Tim was concerned about. Worse would be the climatic changes. The Earth's atmosphere would be saturated with dust and smoke, and the Sun would be unable to warm its surface adequately. It was going to get cold, very cold.

*

Tim was in the sleeping area because he needed to rest. Tomorrow he would try to get Arty. He was trying to go to sleep, but so many things were going through his head it was difficult. He was considering asking Mr. V to help him have another dream. The first one about Arty's crash had been disturbing, but exciting at the same time. At the last moment, he changed his mind. It was something he didn't understand so to really appreciate what was happening he would have to wait until he knew more.

His thoughts went to Arty and suddenly he had a strange desire to contact Arty. It was a crazy idea, but somehow he had a feeling it might be possible.

He was thinking about contacting Arty when Ann popped into his head. Not just a thought though. For a second it was more than that. It was so strong he was sure he had actually been in contact with her. Was it possible? He dared not think about it too long. He missed her because she was a connection to the past.

He felt like he had a strange power developing in him. A crazy insane thought crossed his mind.

"Nah, it couldn't be?" he said to himself.

It might make some sense though. I was shot up really bad and now I'm good as new.

"Brand new!" he exclaimed out loud.

Tim jumped up and ran to the eating area. He had remembered some sharp utensils there. He took one of the sharp instruments and held it up to his forearm, then his courage waned. It wasn't the pain or the blood that bothered him the most. What if his suspicions were correct?

What if I cut my arm and get sparks instead of blood?

He put the sharp knife down.

"First you wonder if you're sane and now you're wondering if you're real?" he mumbled, trying to comfort himself.

Tim grabbed the knife again and quickly stuck it into his arm before he had a chance to change his mind. "Jesus!" he yelped with pain. "You moron, a simple prick would have done it," he added.

"After all the work to fix you up, you go making more holes," said Mr. V. The voice startled Tim. He was still not used to the fact the computer was always there even though he saw no one.

"Oh, funny! You've got me so confused I just cut myself to prove to myself I'm still me."

"This has nothing to do with funny I can assure you. It is serious business when you go slicing yourself up out of curiosity," said the computer.

"I need to know, am I real?"

"I assure you, you are you. You are just as much Tim now as when you were living in your old home."

"Why do I feel so different then?"

"Your environment is different that's all. There have been tremendous changes in your life in the last few days. It will take some time to get use to many of the new things around you."

Chapter 8

Rescue

It had been an exhausting few days for Tim. So much had been explained, but how to absorb it all was the problem. It had been ten days since the initial earthquake, but now with the escalating events it was going to get even more bizarre. Mr. V was predicting more severe quakes, but he could not give the exact location or time. Two heavy jolts had struck the base early that morning and a monstrous vent was forming at the fault line five miles to the North. The vent was caused by lava pushing toward the surface. In one or two days, millions of tons of molten rock would push through and spread out through the lower parts of the valley.

*

He must get on with the rescue of Arty, in haste, if he was to succeed at all. It would be a difficult trip, but Mr. V had assembled a few pieces of equipment to make the mission possible. There was a life support system for Arty; there was a fuel generator for the van, and an interesting device for protection. In each palm a small flat disk was attached to hair thin wires running out to the end of the first finger. The weapon was fired by straightening the finger and then touching the thumb to the top of the middle knuckle of the second finger. The weapon fired an energy beam that could immobilize, or kill, the largest animal. The beam was adjustable by keeping the fingers bent and pressing the middle of the disk. The entire device was almost transparent and undetectable. Tim would also be surrounded by an energy field; along with the one piece suit he had been given earlier. They would protect him from projectiles and two thousand degree heat. Also among the equipment was food and water for a month.

"How am I going to get all this stuff down the mountain?" Tim asked as he studied the large pile of gear.

"I have arranged some transportation for you," replied Mr. V.

*

A final check of his communication device and Tim stepped out, back into his world. The first sensation was the harsh morning light, and then the smells. His nose had forgotten about the fine smells of Earth: the plants, the rocks, the air, and the distinct smell of a horse. Brillo Pad was standing in the shade of the rock wall waiting to take him down the mountain.

Tim attached the gear to the horse with some ultra-fine string that was amazingly strong. He pulled at the hair size material as hard as he could to break off a piece, but had to resort to cutting it. Even that was difficult.

Tim mounted the horse and they began their climb down out of the canyon. As they neared the bottom a strong quake shook the ground, but Brillo Pad stayed steady and unconcerned. In a few minutes they were at the beginning of the Walls and could survey the valley below. The town looked the same as he had left it, tossed and tumbled. The lower valley, below the town looked dusty and hot, and Tim could see vapors rising from across the valley where the fault was located.

Tim couldn't see anyone in the upper end of the cove, but there was some heavy equipment working a mile down from him. At least he wouldn't have to bring the van far to reach a drive-able road. Mr. V had given him a portable bridge to gap the crevasses, but as Tim looked down at the bridge resting by his thigh the bundle seemed awful inadequate for a four thousand pound load. The last few days had taught him different, however.

*

Tim didn't come across anyone on the way to his house and was relieved to find some of his clothing still there. He was dressed only in the one piece suit, and Mr. V had advised him to be inconspicuous as possible. Almost everything else was destroyed or missing thanks to the looters. He rushed to the garage and was elated to find the van just as he had left it, but the Quad was gone.

He went immediately to work on the modifications to the van. To make it self-sufficient for fuel Mr. V had given him a hydrogen generator. The device produced hydrogen from the water vapor in the air. Tim attached the generator as the instructions stated, and then removed the old carburetor and replaced it with a new one, again complements of Mr. V. Next came some modifications to the ignition system. The parts and the instructions were precise because Mr. V had all he needed to know about a Ford van in his memory banks. The van would now run stronger than before and would never need to be fueled again. Other modifications to the van included a gyro and a protective energy coating like Tim was wearing. The coating could be instantly changed to five different colors. Mr. V had thought of everything.

*

Tim completed all his tasks with two hours of daylight remaining. He started the engine and backed the van over the crumpled driveway and into the demolished street. The van was sitting at a fifteen degree angle. Tim activated the gyro, and the van settled close to level.

Tim drove half way down the block and found his first obstacle. A wall of earth rising six feet above the street blocked his way. He pulled the portable bridge out and set it up according to the instructions. It was secured to the ground on its four corners by a pistol like device that drove anchors deep into the ground. A clip was attached to the anchors, and then to the bridge. When all four corners were secured the structure was pulled tight with a small electric winch, also provided. Then the van could be driven across the mesh like device. If the grade was steep, the winch was simply attached to the van and then the van was pulled up. Mr. V said the winch was powerful enough to pull the van up vertical if necessary.

Tim inched the van onto the bridge he had assembled and felt only a slight give to the light weight, 'Make-a-Path' as he had christened it. After crossing, a radio signal exploded the anchors free to be used again. All this weighted no more than thirty pounds. With his portable bridge, the gyro, and the winch, Tim was confident he could take the van anywhere.

*

By sunset, Tim had traversed the van to within two hundred feet of three large bulldozers building a road up the cove. Tim waved from the top of the ridge to the men below and then scurried down to talk to them. One of the operators jumped off his machine to greet him. The operator was surprised to find a boy by himself this far from any protection. Tim explained he had returned to retrieve valuables. The man shook his head and said nothing was worth getting done in by the crazy bastards on the loose. He gestured back to his machine where two armed companions sat.

A little haggling and a little money in the right place, and the foreman swung the machines to the task of building a road for Tim. Then he could bring the van down the last ridge. Tim didn't want to use his tricks in front of people unless absolutely necessary. Besides, he enjoyed watching the monstrous machines bully the rocks and dirt.

As he sat watching the work he thought about Mr. V. Certainly the computer would have something to complete the road much faster. Then he realized what Mr. V had, he had too. A sudden chill went up his spine. At the base he had felt so inferior, but now he was probably the most powerful human on the face of the Earth. All the doubt and uncertainty flowed out of him. Life as he had known it was gone for good. Mr. V was certain the valley below was close to doom and he had hinted that much of the world was close behind. Tim was a fortunate person; he wouldn't have to suffer like many others would.

He felt sadness as he looked around in the gloom of the dying day. Although the last few years had been tough, there had been some good times. He laid back and rested his head on a rock and turned his eyes up to the stars. He though back to when Ann and he would talk about what could be out there. He knew now there was indeed something grand and wondrous up beyond the sky. He had the proof, and it was possible he might just be able to go there someday. The thought made him happy.

If only he could find Ann, if only she was okay? He had been thinking about her a lot, but had not mentioned it to Mr. V more than the one time. The computer had tried to find Ann, but he said his resources were not set up to search for missing people and he had been unsuccessful. If Tim pulled off the Arty mission he would try to find her and bring her back to the base. She deserved a part of this good thing too.

Tim returned to the van, ate, and called Mr. V. The computer was concerned about the time available for Tim to complete the transfer of Arty from the hospital to the base because the fault was weakening fast. Tim was now impatient to get on his way and had the van ready when the first dozer reached the top of the ridge. The dozer pulled the last rib of dirt down the road it had built, and Tim started down right behind it. He didn't want to be around if the construction crew started to wonder how he had gotten the van on the pressure ridge in the first place.

As Tim neared the bottom he swung to the side to go around the retreating machine. As he drove around the dozer, the dirt on the side of the road started to shift, and the van slew to the side. Tim hit the accelerator and the engine exploded to life. The van shot along the edge of the ramp without as much as a tilt. Tim glanced back in the side mirror to the men on the machines. He couldn't quite make out their faces, but they had stopped to watch him race down the incline.

The road the construction men had built was surprisingly smooth, except for the grouser marks made by the dozer tracks which made the van buzz with vibrations from the tires hitting the evenly spaced grooves.

*

From time to time he would pass a military vehicle, but civilian traffic was absent. At the bottom of the cove was where he ran into his first hitch, a road block where a young Lieutenant wanted to see his travel pass. Tim informed him; he had been stuck up the cove since the quake, and had not realized a pass was necessary. The Lieutenant directed him to a tent and said he would have to wait until morning to acquire a pass. It was dark, and Tim needed some rest so it was just as well.

*

Tim was awakened by the van bouncing around hard. He jumped out the side door and realized it was another quake. Excited people were milling around and pointing to the North, toward the fault. Although the fault was six miles away, a hissing and rumbling could be plainly heard. Steam and dust were shooting high into the air. It was an eerie sight as the rising Sun was almost behind the display and articles thrown up in the air sparkled as they arched through the sky.

A loud whooshing sound went over Tim's head, and ended with a loud thud behind him because a smoldering boulder as big as a car had smashed into the hill. More rocks followed, sending people scrambling in all directions. Tim dove into the van and started it up. He swung it onto the road and headed for the road block.

A moment later, the van was struck in the back corner, sending it careening to the left and onto its side, propelling Tim hard into the passenger's seat. The gyro immediately righted the vehicle, slamming Tim back into the driver's door. Back in the original position, Tim was shaken, but unharmed thanks to the energy field. One thing was apparent though, the suit he was wearing would do nothing for him if he was hit by one of those boulders racing out of the sky. The back corner of the van was badly damaged.

Mr. V had explained the way the protective suit and the covering of the van worked. The thin material was the conductor of a force field. It reacted to objects approaching its surface, and repelled them with a strong, backwards, gravitational charge. It worked on small projectiles because a great amount of the protective field could be generated on the small area of the impact. Large, heavy objects could, however, overwhelm the system,

The rock barrage had subsided, but it had done its damage. In the eight miles to the next road block scores of vehicles lay smashed with countless casualties. The road was almost blocked in places by smoking debris. It was hard for Tim to pass the injured, but he had to keep his mind on his purpose, Arty.

*

At the next road block, Tim was directed to a tent and received a travel permit to the city where the VA hospital was located. He also got some information on where casualties had been taken. He was informed the physiological trauma cases would have been transferred to a hospital close to where he was headed, but records of the transfers would be at the main aid station down the road.

As Tim approached the van he noticed a group of people had gathered around it. He moved quickly, pushing through, and interrupted one of the group, a middle aged man busy picking the lock to the driver's door.

"It would be easier with the key," said Tim.

The man looked up with a cold stare, and the others closed in around Tim. He noticed smirks on most of their faces.

"Do you know who happens to have it?" the man asked.

"I do," Tim replied.

"That's great," the man stated, standing up to confront Tim. "I was never too good at this, and I hated to have to break the window on 'my new van'."

"Gee, I don't remember giving it to you," Tim returned sarcastically.

"Well, I remember taking it, 'smart ass'!" The man sneered, getting right in Tim's face.

The crowd closed in tighter.

"You can't even get into it, you idiot!" Tim said loudly, teasing the man.

The man stiffened and his face reddened, as giggles erupted from his followers. He was in a rage and punched quickly at Tim's stomach. There was a loud smack as his fist contacted Tim's middle, and a surprised look on his face as he quickly realized the punch had no effect.

Tim raised his right arm at the elbow, pointing the straightened finger at the man's chest, and pressed his thumb to the trigger on the second finger. A loud crack ripped the air, and the man smashed into the van and fell to the ground in a heap.

"Holy shit," Tim said under his breath.

He didn't bother to turn around, but he could hear footsteps retreating in every direction. He reached into his pocket for the keys and unlocked the van. As he drove away he could see people staring at him white faced.

"Those poor bastards, first the earthquakes, and now me. I hope they can get some sleep."

*

At the main aid station Tim talked to the nurse in charge, but she didn't have Ann's name.

"But, how can you lose a person?" cried Tim.

The nurse looked up with a frown. "Young man, we have lost a whole lot of people, I'm sorry."

Tim turned to go, but just as he was to the door he turned again and asked, "Susan Whitcomb?"

"What?" the nurse said.

"Do you have a record of a Susan Whitcomb?"

"Where was she injured?" the nurse asked.

"She wasn't hurt," Tim snapped.

The nurse shot a nasty glance at Tim. "This is a medical station, not the telephone company."

"She's a doctor, a psychologist or something," Tim added calmer.

"Staff makes a difference," the nurse sneered as she shifted her position to reach another keyboard. "Whitcomb, Whitcomb, Susan." She glanced up at Tim and he affirmed the name with a nod.

"Here it is, Dr. Susan Whitcomb is—" The nurse paused and the smile disappeared from her face. "Is she family, or a friend?"

"A friend."

"I'm sorry, she was killed in a helicopter crash six days ago," the nurse said sadly.

"No, that can't be!" shouted Tim. "No, please check again."

"Susan Whitcomb, P.H.D., employed in trauma research." The nurse looked up with sad eyes. "Is that the same one?"

"Yeah." Tim paused. "Yeah, I'm sure that's her," he said softly.

"She was killed in a shuttle flight crash north of here, I'm sorry," said the nurse, as she got up and approached Tim.

"Look, I don't have any record of this Ann because she wasn't on the shuttle, so she might be okay, probably just displaced. It's hard to keep track of anyone with all that's happening. Check with the military, or the police, but don't give up. I wish I could help you more."

Tim's sorrow had clouded his mind for a moment, but then he realized the nurse was squeezing his arm with a puzzled look on her face. Tim pulled his arm out of her grasp and quickly headed for the door.

"Tension," he shouted over his shoulder.

He hurried to the van. As he was driving out of the parking area he looked back at the aid station. He could see the nurse at the door with a telephone in her hand.

Tim turned and headed back the way he had come and drove until he spotted a truck going in the other direction. He U turned and slid in behind the truck, and then activated the color part of the protection sheet covering the van. Up to this point it had been transparent, so the van was its original light brown. Tim selected white for the new color. As the large truck passed the station he had just left he moved the van to the away side and passed the truck. It probably wasn't necessary, but he didn't need to have to answer questions, right now.

*

Tim drove for five hours which left him thirty-five miles from the VA hospital. Driving the last ten or so miles had been relatively easy, but the thirty before them had been a nightmare. Until he had made the main highway, ten miles back, the roads had been badly damaged and sometimes totally blocked. The stretch he was on now was intact and there was little traffic. Tim pushed the accelerator to the floor to see what difference the hydrogen fuel made. He was slammed in the seat by the acceleration, and the van shot past ninety like it was nothing. At a hundred he backed off because it would be stupid to blow it up now. Mr. V said the modifications would make it more powerful, but he hadn't expected this.

He was making a steady ninety when the van became difficult to control. He lifted off the gas suspecting a bad tire, but the van felt like it was being moved around by some unseen force. The speed dropped to sixty, and the van was still all over the road and getting wilder. He was baffled until he looked at an overpass just ahead. It was moving and twisting, and the road under it was dancing up and down. It was another earthquake Tim realized, as the overpass collapsed in a cloud of dust.

Tim slammed on the brakes, and the tires screeched and then lost hold as the van was bounced up clear off the pavement. The van came down on the roadway again, like a 747, tires smoking and screeching, and although the highway squirmed like a snake, the van stayed straight and true, thanks to the gyro. It was an uneven stop, each tire biting and releasing as the pavement went up and down. It took longer to stop than it would have on a smooth surface, but Tim had room to spare before he would have crashed into the rubble of the downed overpass.

Tim had been listening to a radio station, but now there was silence. He quickly found the tuning knob and turned it. Normally a radio in this area would pick up many stations, but he could only find one and it was playing gospel music. Within seconds the song was interrupted by a special message. Another major earthquake had just struck the area. There were no details yet, but the announcer said it had been a big one.

Tim called Mr. V, and he told Tim the quake was indeed a big one and had involved more than one fault. Mr. V suspected the damage would be high. Tim backed up to the off ramp, skirted the fallen overpass, and again headed for the hospital.

Although there seemed to be considerable damage along the highway, many fires and fallen structures, the highway was still passable. From then on, he went around the overpasses still standing, not wishing to be beneath one at the moment it happened to fall. He was now virtually alone on the highway.

*

The radio informed anyone listening to switch to an emergency frequency, and Tim did. A killer quake that had been expected in this area had struck. The main quake registered 8.0 on the Richter scale, which was less than the first quake, eleven days earlier, but it was more than enough to smash the area. Beside the main quake, many others had occurred all over the basin, but there was no information on them yet.

A second disaster was now forming the radio said; fire storms, because the thousands of random fires needed oxygen, and the winds were increasing to supply that oxygen. The winds in turn fanned the fires, and the cycle was started: more fire, more oxygen, more heat, more fire, more oxygen, more wind. The quake had destroyed most of the water mains, so the cycle would go unchecked until the combustible material was gone. The quake had been less intense in the small town where the hospital was, so Tim might still be able to get through.

Mother Nature was making it difficult, and everything was getting increasingly serious, but there was no time to waste. This part of the world was dying fast, and he had to save what he could and that was in a hospital twenty miles ahead.

*

Tim reached the hospital exit as hundreds of cars were jammed on the highway, streaming away. Many of them were headed back toward the valley and more misfortune. The fallen bridges, the rock showers, and the broken fault with the lava pouring out made that direction a trap. The highway going east out of the valley had been cut after the first quake many days ago.

Off the highway the going was slow. He spent most of his time driving through front yards, parking lots, and sometimes back yards, doing anything that worked.

At dusk he arrived at the hospital.

*

Tim parked the van, then made his way to the intensive-care ward where Arty was located. Getting there was as bad as on the highway. People were everywhere and there was complete confusion. At first he tried to be considerate, but it got him nowhere so he pushed and shoved with everyone else. It was still slow so he got really aggressive. The last tactic worked and he finally found the ward. At the ward entrance an armed guard blocked his way.

"I'm here to see my brother," Tim announced.

"I'm sorry Sir, no one can be admitted unless on staff," said the guard.

"But—"

"I'm sorry Sir, I have my orders," interrupted the guard.

"Where do I find someone in charge?"

"Take the first left down there," pointed the guard. His tone was helpful. "The ward nurse is down there."

Tim hurried around the corner and to the desk. The nurse sitting there was talking on the telephone, business like. He waited impatiently for a minute or so, but the nurse didn't even look up.

"Excuse me Mam," he finally said, "but I came here to see my brother. He's in intensive care."

He got no response from the nurse.

"Mam, excuse me." Tim had raised his voice slightly and bent over the desk resting his hands on the outside edge. "My brother, Arty Randell, I'd like to—"

"I'm sorry young man, visiting hours are over," she cut in not even looking up.

"But, I've come a long way, and—"

"Tomorrow, 8:00 AM, no exceptions," she interrupted again and then went right back to her telephone.

"Lady! I've come all the way—"

"I told you, 8:00 AM, no exceptions," but this time she at least looked up and the volume of her voice rose.

"From Mountain Cove," he finished.

"Everyone from Mountain Cove thinks they're special." She had a tired look on her face. "Tomorrow!" her voice went up a lot.

Tim backed away and gave the nurse a salute, and she gave him the finger. He returned to the soldier, but found it hopeless because the guy had his orders. The nurse he had sparred with came around the corner and bore straight at him. He was in big trouble for sure.

"Run like hell," the soldier said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Look Sonny," bellowed the nurse, "I told you out! You and your sister are getting to be a pain in the ass."

"I don't have a sister," Tim stated.

"Figures the little brat was lying," said the nurse angrily. "I knew there was something wrong with her story."

"What did she want?" Tim asked curiously. "What did she look like?"

"She wanted to see her brother. She said he was her brother, but it seems he's your brother also, and you have no sister. One of you is lying young man."

"What did she look like?" Tim asked impatiently.

"A young girl, fourteen, sixteen maybe, tall, thin, medium blond hair, shoulder length, pretty green eyes."

"Ann!" Tim exclaimed. "Do you know where she is? How long ago did you see her? Where—"

"Hold on, slow down. She was here a couple of hours ago, and I'm sure she'll be back in the morning. Anyway, she's been here the last four or five days. Who is she, this Ann?"

"A friend of the family. I thought she was dead."

"Well, she's one hell of a dirty mess, and not real informative. You should take better care of her."

"I will, when I find her, but be informed," Tim said annoyed, pointing his finger at the nurse, "she's been through a hell of a lot. She saw her family killed, Mam!"

Tim was about to educate the nurse on what was happening away from her desk, but bit his lip.

He was already moving because Ann was close by. She had come to the one place where she knew he might show up. Tears were forming in his eyes and his heart was racing. He ran from person to person describing Ann to everyone. He was talking so fast, some of the people were looking at him like he had flipped.

At the cafeteria counter the clerk thought she had seen a girl fitting Ann's description, half an hour ago. She had no idea where the girl had gone though. The clerk called one of the waitresses over. Her name was Myra. She knew about the girl, and said the girl had been hanging around for a few days, and had no belongings or money. A couple of the cafeteria staff had been feeding the girl. Myra said as far as she knew, the girl had been sleeping in the storeroom in the ladies room down the hall.

Tim rushed the distance to the wash room and skidded to a stop, thought about it a moment, then rushed into the crowded lavatory. Women yelled and some screamed, but Tim didn't hesitate. He pulled open the store room door in the back, turned on the light and looked around. A pair of tennis shoes, he recognized, were sticking out from under some old table cloths spread out in the far corner. He went over, pulled the top of the covers back, and underneath was Ann. He just stood looking at her, afraid to move or say anything. He remembered the look in her eyes the last time he had seen her and he was scared the look might still be there.

Someone grabbed him from behind, and he turned around to face Myra.

"What the hell do you think you're doing buddy?" she hissed at him.

"Ah, I was looking for my friend."

"Well, you little pervert, get the hell out of my restroom because my customers don't care what your excuse is."

"But I've found her," Tim said, as he turned back toward Ann and stepped aside, so the woman could see Ann. "I thought she was dead," he said, pointing to Ann.

"Oh lords, I'm sure glad someone found that poor girl. I didn't know what to do with her? I didn't want to turn her away, but my boss was getting on me about her. I'm glad you finally got here. I think you had better get out of here though. Do you have any place to go?"

"Yes, yes, I can take care of her okay," he said, as he bent down to shake her. He couldn't believe she had slept through all the commotion.

"Hey wake up, it's me. Ann, come on it's me, Tim."

She was awakening, but at first didn't recognize him. He pushed her dirty hair out of her eyes. The second time she looked at him; her expression showed she did know it was him. There was no smile, but a kind of relieved look.

He looked directly into her eyes. Although they weren't happy eyes, they had life in them again. He let out the breath, he had been holding in since she had first stirred, with a big whoosh.

Ann simply stared at him and made no attempt to get up. Tim finally pulled her by the hands to make her come forward. Only then did she stand. Tim put his arms around her and hugged her tight. She didn't hug him back.

"You feel funny," she said.

"Shuuuu, I'll explain later, but let's get out of here."

"Where can we go?" Ann asked, pulling out of his hug.

"I've got Mom's van outside."

Ann looked at him and was about to say something, but turned and began to pick up the cloths she had been sleeping on. Myra said she would take care of cleaning up, and they could go.

*

On the way down to the van Tim tried to figure out a way to explain to Ann all that had happened. She was real distant, so it was difficult to find a start. Only after they had reached the van and gotten inside did he try.

"It's so good to see you again, I was so worried," Tim said.

"I'm happy to see you too," Ann said flatly.

"I was really worried, I mean after all that shit with—" He stopped short because it wasn't what she needed to remember.

How stupid of me.

"There's an awful lot to try to explain, so could you just listen, and when I'm finished, you can have your turn, okay?" Tim said.

Ann didn't say anything.

He started at the beginning—when he had run away from the helicopter. Tim tried to explain as best he could. Ann was silent the whole time, but he hoped when he was finished, she would believe him about what had happened.

"Tim, what's this all about?" she whined, after he was done.

"I told you, it's the truth, I swear."

"Oh sure? I thought I was the one that was cracking up, but this B.S! My god Tim, we're all alone!" Ann shouted. "We don't have anyone left, except Arty and, oh, you're going to rescue him. Tim, he'll die if you even move him a foot."

"No, he won't, I explained that."

"Right Mr. Whatever can save him."

"Ann, Mr. V."

"Tim, I talked to Arty's doctor, and you think this Mr. V knows more than a doctor, you bet?"

"I can't convince you sitting here, arguing, so I'll just have to show you. Will you help me get Arty? If you'll help me, I will guarantee he will be all right. I need your help, okay?"

"You're nuts Tim. You know, you scare me. You really do. I don't know what the hell you're wearing, but you're weirding out."

"Ah ha! You think that's weird. Hit me, as hard as you can."

Ann didn't reply.

"Go on, hit me as hard as you can, come on, it won't hurt."

Ann hit at Tim with her fist, but not too hard, so any results would be hard to judge.

"Come on dammit, how can I prove what I'm saying if you won't cooperate?"

"I don't feel like playing silly games, okay?" Ann said annoyed.

Tim was totally frustrated. He needed to convince Ann, somehow, before he could go on with his rescue plan. He wanted to make sure she understood what was going on before he attempted to get Arty. It would be bad if Ann freaked out or something at the wrong time.

He picked up the pellet rifle he had taken with him and loaded a pellet in the chamber, then began to pump up the pressure. Ann was silently watching him. She had fired the weapon many times and knew its power. When it was ready, Tim put his left hand over the muzzle and pulled the trigger.

There was a muffled pop. Ann's eyes shot wide open, and her hands flew up to her mouth.

Tim turned his left hand toward her and opened it. The pellet was sitting in his palm.

"Want to listen a little better this time, or do you think it was some sort of trick?"

"Why did you want to scare me like that?" Ann cried, mad, her fists balled up.

"I wasn't trying to scare you; I was trying to get your attention. I need your help."

"For some crazy scheme. You're going to kill Arty, and I won't be a part of that!" shouted Ann.

"I'm trying to help Arty. If I get him back to Mr. V he can walk again."

"Oh Tim, listen to yourself, this is crazy talk."

"And this?" Tim held up the pellet. "Can you explain this?"

"No, I can't explain that." Ann pointed at the pellet.

"Look, I love Arty more than anything in the world, you know that. I would never do anything to harm him, please believe me," Tim pleaded. "Can't you do that?"

Ann was silent, looking around the van, noncommittal.

Tim frustrated, adjusted the palm weapon in his right hand down to minimum and pointed it at the back door of the van. "You don't believe me," Tim said, and fired. A weak shaft of pink light connected with the back door. It didn't do much but produce a burnt smell.

Ann looked quickly at Tim who was just smiling. He offered her a simple shrug, as to say, now what?

"I don't know," she finally said, "but I'll go along with you for now. Weird Timmy, really weird."

"It's going to get even weirder."

*

Tim went over the plan he had devised to slip Arty out of the hospital and into the van. They would do it after midnight when things were at a minimum pace in the ward. It took him until 2:00 AM to go over the plan a few times, assemble the gear, set it up, and instruct Ann as to her part.

"Tim what's this all about, really? Everything is so strange. I don't have a home anymore, and I don't have anyone left. What am I going to do? I'm really scared."

"For starters, you still have me, and we have a new home."

"A hole in a mountain," she screamed, pounding her hands into her lap, "where no one but a machine lives! I want things like they were!"

"It will never be like that again, I'm sorry." Tim tried to sound calm for her benefit.

"Don't say that, and don't patronize me!" she shouted again.

"It's true Ann."

"Well, we can go away. We can go to, ah someplace that's—God there's got to be someplace we can go?"

"I already explained where we are going. We'll be safe there."

"There must be lots of safe places. I don't want to live inside a mountain. I'm scared, and I don't want to go back there."

"Arty needs his chance; he's suffered too much already. I have to do this for him, and after you can make up your own mind. It will be one hell of an adventure, I promise. Remember all the crazy things we use to talk about doing? They are now possible."

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Ann said with an annoyed tone in her voice.

"The daydreams, the fantasizing, the adventures, it may all be possible. Think of that for a little while."

"Are you nuts Tim? Fuckin 'adventure'! What about all our family and friends?"

"Ah, what family and friends?" Tim returned.

"Oh how cruel! How could you say something like that?" she snarled.

"It's the truth dammit! There is no one left to care about, just Arty."

"God, I don't believe how selfish you are. 'What about me'?" She was in tears. "I need someone. My family—" She broke into sobs.

"I care. You've got me." Tim said as he reached out to put his arms around her, but she pulled away.

"Fuck you! I'll find someone else. You've got your brother, and a computer to worry about," she said sniffling. "You can't possibly have time for anyone else."

"You can't mean that? I care a lot about you. We've been friends a long time," Tim sounded hurt.

"Oh, you bet Mr. 'big' adventure, you bet," she hissed.

"Hey, I'm smart enough to make the best of a situation, that's all.

"Bullshit Timmy. You're glad all this happened. Now you won't be bored anymore. We all paid the big price, but Tim-good-times doesn't care, he—"

"Shut up!" Tim cut her off.

"Ho, ho, big shot. You can run the rest of the world, but leave me alone. I'm not interested in your grand plan."

"Enough, it's time to go. Will you help me?"

"Don't have anything else to do, but just this one time, understand!"

"Shitty attitude." Tim commented.

"It's a shitty world, in case you haven't noticed," Ann said snottily.

Tim was silent as he opened the van door and stepped outside.

*

They entered the hospital after leaving the van below the window to Arty's ward. Tim was carrying a back pack with all Mr. V's goodies in it.

As they approached the guard at the ward door, Tim asked, "Why do they need a guard at the door?"

"Some people try to pull the plug on the guys in here to get the bed for someone they know," Ann explained.

"I wonder how far I would go for you or Arty?" Tim commented, thinking how he had already killed for Ann. He quickly adjusted the stun weapon in his left hand to a low setting, but returned the right hand for maximum.

They stopped in front of the soldier guarding the ward. Ann was crying softly, and Tim was holding his right arm which he had put in a sling. Luck was with them because it wasn't the same guard as earlier.

"Where do I find the doctor in charge?" Tim asked pleadingly, as Ann increased her crying a decibel or two.

"What's the problem?" the guard asked.

"We got a call our brother was dying, and to come quickly," Tim announced. "How do we get in to see him?"

"You'll have to check with the duty nurse around the corner there." The guard pointed. "I can't let anyone in without permission. I'm sorry."

Ann began to cry harder and then sank to the floor. Tim bent over her and tried to comfort her, pretending to try to pick her up with just his one good arm while grimacing with pain from his supposed bad one.

"Please help her, my wing is temporarily out of order," Tim said to the soldier. "I hope she isn't having another fit. She fell off a horse and hasn't been the same since. Can you help her to the nurse?"

Ann was playing the part perfectly. The soldier scooped her up and headed down the hall.

When he turned the corner, and was out of sight, Tim entered the ward. It was about fifty feet long with ten beds running down both sides and an isle in the middle. To his left, two nurses and a doctor sat in an enclosed cubicle drinking coffee, watching a number of screens. The ward was real dark so Tim was able to sneak by them unnoticed. At the foot of each bed was a chart with the name and records of each patient. Tim found Arty, second to the end on the window side. He put down the backpack and turned on the communicator. Next he removed two small packages. One he placed on Arty's neck and the other on his chest. Now he would have to wait a minute or so for instructions.

Ann was still handling the soldier perfectly. When they had rounded the corner, she had suddenly stopped crying and convinced him she was better. She said she would meet him after he was off duty and the promise was enough to get him to return to his post. She was thinking to herself; Men can be manipulated so easily if you want it that way, as the vision of Tony when the shotgun ended his life was clear in her mind. She knew it had been her finger that had unleashed the agent of death on him, and it had a strangely comforting effect on her.

The communicator clicked and fed Tim the instructions he needed. He placed a small respirator on the mask on Arty's face and attached a thin tube to the intravenous tube running out of Arty's arm. The thin tube ran to a small cluster of clear blobs bundled together. He then draped a protective sheet over Arty. He then laid a rope like article down, starting at Arty's head and going around his whole body, completing the circle at his head again. Then he signaled Ann.

Ann had made her way back to the van, and when she received Tim's signal, she backed it up on the lawn stopping below the window Tim was signaling from. Then she opened the rear doors.

Tim saw the doors to the van open and he went into action. He cut the tubes leading from Arty to the hospital equipment, clipping the openings to seal them. Immediately a nurse and the doctor rushed into the ward. Tim pointed his left hand and fired. Instead of a loud crack, there was a gentle pop, and a soft pink streak of light struck the doctor, knocking him to the floor. The nurse pulled up and before she could utter a word, a second charge silenced her.

Tim activated the carrier to transport Arty to the van. The rope he had placed around Arty emitted a pale green light as it lifted Arty off the hospital bed. A quick check told Tim his brother's condition was stable and already improving. Tim placed the rest of the equipment alongside Arty and stepped back.

Tim pointed his right hand at the window and fired. A vicious streak of light blew out an entire window section. He started the carrier, with Arty, through the window. When it was clear of the building, he turned to make his exit. Ann would pull Arty the rest of the way into the van.

The guard burst through the door with his M-16 at the ready just as Tim turned to leave the ward. Tim fired with his left hand, but missed. Before he could fire again, the muzzle of the M-16 flashed. Something hit him hard in the hip and spun him around. He slammed into a bed and fired again. His second bolt hit the M-16, and the startled soldier dropped the weapon. Tim fired again, quickly, and the soldier slumped to the floor.

The last nurse was now out of the control room, but Tim just rushed past her and out of the ward. Other people's brothers in the ward would need her expertise. The others he had stunned would be up in a few minutes.

Outside the ward, a doctor and another soldier met Tim as he rounded the first corner. They were rushing toward the ward.

"Some equipment exploded in there!" Tim exclaimed as he ran over to the fire extinguisher on the wall.

The doctor and soldier barely acknowledged him as they continued toward the ward in a rush.

Tim left the extinguisher on the wall and headed out of the hospital.

*

As he reached the parking lot, the van with Ann at the wheel was speeding toward him with a police car close behind. The van reached him, and the driver's door flew open. Before he could get inside, however, the police car screeched to a stop behind the van and both doors began to open. Tim fired three quick bursts with his right hand at the front of the police car. The entire front of the vehicle disintegrated in a flash of sparks, flames, and small pieces. The police officer on the driver's side was thrown back against the seat, and the passenger was sent sprawling on the grass outside the car.

Tim jumped into the van, pulled the door closed, punched the accelerator, and raced down the parking lot past dozens of startled observers. Tim changed the color of the van from white to a bright blue, and then changed the license plate numbers, thanks to another one of Mr. V's tricks.

*

When they reached the highway, Tim asked Ann to drive and went into the back of the van. Arty was partly conscious. "Well, Big Brother, how do you feel? Don't try to talk, until I get this mess off your face," Tim said.

Mr. V had been monitoring Arty and there were new instructions. Tim followed them, constructing an energy cocoon around Arty that would serve as a life support system far advanced to the hospital's. Tim removed all the hospital's gear, opened one of the rear doors, and threw it all out.

Arty appeared to be close to fully conscious now. "Timmy, is that you?" he said groggily. "What the hell's going on?"

"It's a long story, but it's going to have a happy ending. No more hospitals for you because we're going to fix you up."

Arty had his head turned toward Tim with a bewildered look on his face.

"Honest Arty, I can do it! What do you think of that?"

"What do I think? I think you've lost your marbles! That's what I think," Arty said weakly.

"Feeling better?"

"A little, where am I?"

"In Mom's van, what do you think of it?"

"What's all this?" Arty rotated his head, looking around the inside of the van at the strange gear scattered about.

"It's part of the long story."

"You can start, anytime you're ready." Arty was getting stronger and was regaining his directness.

"I found all this, and a lot more."

"Does Mom know about this? I hope you haven't got into anything you'll regret. I'll kick your ass, if you're screwing up," Arty joked.

"Not for a while, but you'll get your chance soon," Tim said happily.

"Quit talking through your hat. I'm not getting up anymore, remember," Arty said sternly.

"Look around again, and then tell me how you feel?"

Arty rotated his head again, surveying the inside of the van and replied. "I feel really good, actually. Better than I have for a long time. Where did you get all this stuff? How'd you get me out of the hospital? 'What the hell is going on'?"

"I go you out of the hospital 'to fix you up'. I already told you that."

"Bullshit Timmy! I want to know where you got all this stuff? 'Now Timmy'!"

"I told you, I found it?"

"Oh, alongside the road I suppose?"

"Not exactly."

"Elaborate Timmy."

"I found it in the mountains, above Mountain Cove."

"Tim, this looks like some extremely sophisticated equipment. Stuff like this just doesn't end up lying around up in the mountains."

"Somebody left it there. This is fun, having Arty on the receiving end. All my life I've had to ask Arty the questions."

"Tim!" Arty's voice was again stern. "You quit playing games. Where did you get all this?"

"Like I said, it was in the mountains." Tim hesitated until Arty was about to talk and then quickly added. "In a base."

"In a base of what?" asked Arty.

"A base of things like this."

Arty turned to Tim, looked him square in the eyes and then asked, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Arty said kind of chuckling.

Tim chuckled back. "Yeah, but it's good to see you again."

"Quit stalling. I hope you're not trying to fabricate a story to get off the hook."

"No story could be as good as the truth."

"Then the truth, please."

"I found an abandoned, alien base."

"Alien?"

"Beings from another world."

"The same place your mind went to, no doubt," Arty commented.

"My mind's right where it's always been. Don't believe me huh?"

"You don't make it easy."

"Arty trust me. I found an alien base that's been empty for millions of years. They were travelers from the stars. They came here millions of years ago for research and mining, then they left, and I found their base."

"What?"

"It's the truth. Where else would I get equipment like this, and you even admitted you felt better. When was the last time you were able to breathe without all that crap on your face, huh? Tell me that!"

"This can't be happening, but it must make some sense." Arty replied like he was talking to himself. "Where are we going?"

"To the base."

"Is Mom there?" Arty asked.

"When we get to the base the technology there can help you."

"Does Mom know about all this?"

"Imagine Arty, you'll be as good as new, I promise."

"What about Mom?" Arty asked loudly.

"What about her?"

"Why are you stalling when I ask about her? Tim?"

Tim took a deep breath and tried to use a courageous voice, but it didn't work because he sounded like a boy that had just lost his mother. "Mom's dead."

There was a silence for a few seconds, and then Arty asked. "What happened?"

"She was killed in the earthquake."

"What earthquake?"

"Don't you know what's happening?"

"No," Arty stated.

"There's been major earthquakes all along the faults. This whole region is in a hell of a mess. It was the quake that opened up the base. That's how I found it."

"Mom didn't suffer, did she?"

"No." Telling him about the booze and the pills doesn't make any sense.

"Poor Mom, she didn't deserve all that she got stuck with," Arty said sadly.

"I know Arty, but you didn't either."

"I knew what I was getting into. I just took a chance, that's all."

"Get some rest; I've got to check on Ann. This is the first time she's really driven much and she's probably getting tired."

"Is it the same Ann you used to hang around with?"

"Yup, the same one, why?"

"I had a dream about her, just a short time ago."

"Might not have been a dream," said Tim.

"Huh?"

"Get some sleep, I'll explain later."

"I am tired. It's good to see you Little Brother."

"Feeling's mutual, now get some sleep."

*

A faint dawn was starting to show on the Eastern horizon to the front of the van as they approached the valley. They were about forty miles from their destination. With any luck Tim could have Ann and Arty safe in the base by nightfall.

*

As they neared Mountain Cove, the radio reported that activity was increasing on the fault ahead and the valley was being evacuated, which explained the heavy traffic headed north toward the high desert.

At the North end of the valley they encountered a road block.

"I'm sorry Son, no one is admitted past this point. You'll have to turn back," announced the Highway Patrol Officer.

"My mother and my sister are still in the city, I have to pick them up," Tim pleaded.

"They will be evacuated by the military, if they haven't already," the officer said sternly.

"But they're waiting for us," Tim begged.

"No good, I have my orders. Turn around now!" the officer stated.

Tim backed the van away and pulled off the road a couple of hundred feet from the roadblock.

"Now what?" Ann asked.

"I don't know, but we have to get through."

"Why? Let's go back. Please Tim. They wouldn't be blocking the roads if they didn't have a good reason, would they?"

"We have to get through," Tim stated emphatically.

"Why!" Ann shouted. "God Tim, you are obsessed with this base, or whatever the hell it is you've dreamed up. They don't want us to go on for our own good. Doesn't it make any sense to you?"

"Look, if we get through we will be safe, and I have to get Arty back there."

"'If' we get through? Great! Tim, I don't want to go back there. I don't want to die. And this mystical base? Don't you think you should tell me the truth? I've been all through those mountains and there's nothing there. Please, let's go back," Ann was pleading now.

"Trust me. We'll be safe there, and I have to get Arty back, so I can fix him."

"Fix him! You are nuts! Fix him! All the doctors in the world can't fix him. Who the hell do you think you are?" Ann shouted.

"It's not me; it's Mr. V that can help Arty. Don't you understand? I thought I explained all this before?"

"I can't possibly understand a crazy person, unless I'm crazy myself. Do you understand?"

"Well, I'm not going to force you. It's either my silly way, or think of something yourself," Tim snapped.

"Hey Tim, there's a Mr. V that needs to talk to you real bad!" Arty shouted from the back of the van.

Tim jumped to the rear and found Arty in conversation with Mr. V.

"What's up?"

"We've got some problems according to your friend. He says large eruptions of lava are due to start within the hour. He recommends we don't delay our return in the least. He sounds very proper."

"He's a computer."

"A what?" Arty exclaimed.

"Remember I told you the base is deserted. He's the central computer. He runs the place now that there's no one left. He tries to be as personable as possible, even has a sense of humor, or likes to think so. You'll like him."

"I'm looking forward to this place, tell me more about it."

"Later, because we have to hurry, but you probably wouldn't believe most of it anyway. Not until you saw it for yourself that is."

*

Tim was back on the road and was headed for the roadblock at high speed. Two patrol cars had been driven together to form a barrier across the street.

"You are fuckin nuts, man!" Ann screamed as she jumped out of her seat and ducked into the rear of the van.

Tim struck the center of the barricade at seventy miles an hour. The impact was barely felt in the van, but the two patrol cars were sent spinning, both front ends smashed to rubble. Bless the protective covering Mr. V gave me. In the melee behind, a couple of shots were fired at the van, but none effective.

A couple of miles down the highway a military truck had pulled off the road and a reception was waiting for the van.

Ann started screaming again from behind him. "Stop! Tim! Please, they're going to kill us! Please stop!"

"Quiet, we'll make it!" Tim bellowed. Just as he said that, flashes erupted from the soldiers weapons.

"Duck!" Tim shouted as he instinctively hunched down for cover.

Sharp cracking sounds came from all over the front end of the van, but nothing came through. Tim raced by the still firing soldiers, and there was a loud bang from the rear of the vehicle.

"Check Arty quick!" Tim shouted to Ann.

Ann stumbled farther into the rear, and reported he was okay. The van had started to act up again, but Tim immediately recognized it as another earthquake. He slowed down to give himself plenty of time to avoid any debris on the road.

*

They were headed east toward the high spot in the middle of the valley, formed by the wind piling the sand into large dunes over the centuries. The sky in front was black, and the closer they got to the fault the darker it got. As they were approaching the crest, Tim could make out an orange glow at the base of the blackness. The lava had started to flow into the lower end of the valley.

At the top of the crest the world in front of them looked primeval. Running at an angle to them, the lava was pouring out of the earth in a line running from north of their position, to the Southeast. The line of liquid fire disappeared into the distant smoke many miles in front of them.

Then they turned south to head directly for Mountain Cove, causing them to move slightly away from the fault line which was about five miles away. The ground was shaking constantly, and Tim had to drive the van like it was traversing the back of a giant snake. The air was hot and stunk of rotten eggs, stinging their eyes.

Again some of Mr. V's foresight had proven valuable. The computer had included some sophisticated gas masks in the equipment. Tim put one on, instructing Ann to do the same. Arty was already protected.

Tim had been watching some helicopters, to his right, that had lifted off a few miles in front of them and were traveling to the Northwest.

A bright flash to his left caught his attention. A tremendous explosion from the fault sent lava balls arcing thousands of feet into the air. Tim jammed the accelerator to the floor as the bright balls of fire left smoky trails in the sky. The balls were headed down all around them now. Tim watched in horror as a fire ball connected with one of the helicopters. There was a flash, and the burning wreckage fell from the sky. One of the fireballs landed a couple of hundred feet from the van with a hiss and a loud smack. Hot sand and tiny smatterings of lava showered the van. Although the van was protected, Tim was worried about the tires because molten rock would surely do them in. Farther up the road a truck lay burning furiously, the driver charred at the wheel.

The bombardment ceased, but the outpouring of the lava continued. From the lava, great billows of ash and smoke towered miles into the air. Massive bolts of lightning slashed through the black, ugly clouds. A constant heavy rumble rolled through the stricken valley. The van was the only traffic on the road now. They were driving into hell. Ann had returned to the front, wearing the mask, and was strangely silent.

I wondered if this was a good decision after all.

There was a rise in the road ahead and from there it would be about a mile down to the road leading into Mountain Cove. At the top of the rise, Tim's heart sank. Between them and the cove the road crossed a concrete bridge spanning a large dry river. To Tim's horror, the wash was half full of lava flowing from the fault-line. Flames were licking all around the bridge supports, and as he closed the distance he could see parts of the bridge exploding from the intense heat. If the lava caused any of the supports to pop, they would be in big trouble. They would have to back track at least ten miles to find another crossing. He was almost to the bridge when a huge chunk of the right side of the structure blew into dust. Tim aimed the van at the remaining left side, punched the throttle and prayed. The van zipped onto the damaged structure and at the speed it was traveling, crossed in seconds.

Tim reached the road up to the cove and looked back. The bridge was collapsing in a shower of white dust and flames. Hot enough to destroy concrete! That was too close for comfort.

*

They traveled a couple of miles up the cove, and Tim was surprised to see a group of people moving up the cove on foot. It was a deplorable sight; a rag tag bunch with few belongings and many injured. Those people are doomed. There's no food or water up there, and the only escape route is blocked.

*

There was an hour's daylight left when they reached the end of the road. The dozers had pushed on just a little farther than when he had left them. The machines lay abandoned where they had quit working, one of them on its side. It had driven up a steep incline and lost its grip and tipped. Tim drove the van as far as he could. Now the going would be much slower the rest of the way and it would be dark soon. Tim was concerned because as he had passed one of the machines he spotted a brown stain on the side running down from the operator's position. Blood was his guess, and would explain the other turned over machine.

The carrier Arty was on would transport him easily, but Tim and Ann would have to walk the distance. They moved Arty to the first ridge, and Tim returned to the van where he removed a piece of the protective covering from it. Returning to Ann, he draped it around her. He turned toward the van and aimed his left hand at the rear where the hydrogen tank was located and fired. The van disappeared in a blinding flash.

"What the hell was that?" Arty shouted.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Ann shouted almost in unison.

"I don't want anyone to find the van or the stuff in it. It would mean questions," Tim explained.

"Oh great Tim," Ann sneered. "You wrecked our wheels. I don't believe you."

"Where are we?" Arty asked.

"Well, believe it or not, about three blocks that way is where we used to live." Tim pointed off to the left. "This is what's left of Mountain Cove Arty."

"Wow, you weren't kidding about the earthquake. Where do we go from here?" Arty asked.

"Yeah Timmy? What the fuck do we do now?" Ann sneered.

"We go up the mountains, troops," Tim said.

"I don't believe this shit," Ann grumbled.

Chapter 9

Timtown

It must have been a strange sight, the two people walking, the third floating along behind on a halo of green light. That's what Tim figured the two people he spotted watching them thought. There was going to be some trouble, he was sure of that. Tim wanted to make it to the base of the mountains quick. They were now in the open and far too visible. Tim's fears were justified. On the ridge to the left and above he saw a glint of metal reflecting the setting Sun. He quickened his pace.

"Look you two, we've got some company and I don't think it's friendly. Ann stay behind Arty and watch the rear. If you see anything holler and cover yourself immediately. Arty, you watch to the sides as best you can," Tim commanded.

Tim removed the pistol from his pack and gave Ann a short course on its operation.

"If anything happens, get this cover over Arty's head, understand? It will stop bullets, I promise. If you have to use the pistol, don't hesitate. There are some bad people around, you know that."

*

They reached the base of the mountains and started up. The Sun dropped below the mountains, but the growing lake of lava behind them was shedding an eerie orange light of its own. The lake was now at least ten miles square and growing. It would not be a dark night.

"This is how the world must have looked in the beginning," Tim commented. Ann was silent, but she was looking back at the lake as they began the accent.

Tim decided on a show of strength because the unfortunate souls bird dogging them would be looking for easy prey. He would impress upon their minds his little group would be far from easy to overwhelm. When they were halfway up into the first part of the canyon Tim figured it had gotten dark enough so he stopped.

Tim pointed his left hand up the hill to the left and pressed his thumb down. A large rock up the hill exploded in a shower of sparks. The streak of energy would be clearly visible as coming from him. He had waited for it to get dark so there would be no doubt in anyone's mind. He repeated the shot six more times in a ninety degree arch to the front. Tim turned, and Ann was staring at him with an incredulous look on her face

"A show of strength," he commented.

"What's going on? What the hell's happening?" Arty shouted.

"It's okay, I'm just trying to discourage any adversaries," Tim said.

"Where did you get the artillery?" Arty asked.

"The secret is in the hands." Tim pointed his hand at the rocks off to the side so Arty could see and gave a demonstration. Crack, kaboom, with a shaft of light in between.

"Holy shit Little Brother, don't worry, nobody is going to mess with you. You weren't putting me on about the alien story, were you?"

"Nope, and this is just the tip of the iceberg."

Tim said that they should continue and tried to give Ann a kiss on the cheek, but she pulled away.

He angled the group up out of the canyon on a more direct route to the Walls and the base. The lava lake below was lighting the way perfectly, and if they stayed out of the shadows no one would be able to get close to them.

*

They reached the rock slide at the bottom end of the canyon leading to the Walls in two hours and started to climb. It took them another half an hour to reach the top.

"Look at what's left of the world," Ann commented as she looked back. The lava had spread out considerably, and the flow rate was increasing.

How feeble were all the things that man had built to last. The forces of nature could so easily sweep it all away. Tim thought, looking back also. He wondered what made a person think they were so important when it was just the opposite.

"As long as I'm breathing, I count for something!" Tim shouted at the glowing valley below.

"What was that all about?" asked Ann.

"He's trying to explain something to the frightened side of himself," Arty commented. "It's a powerful force in us all and can never be taken for granted. It can destroy a person in the worst way."

"Worse than falling into that?" Ann pointed to the lava in the valley below.

"A slow death would be the worst of all," Tim said, thinking of his mother and what had been responsible for her death.

"Let's go home, it's pretty close now." Tim turned and started down into the canyon.

*

Below the rim of the canyon the light from the lava was blocked by the high walls of rock and it was extremely dark. Tim was cautious, sweeping his light back and forth, surveying every possible ambush sight. They moved slowly. Tim inspected all the nooks and crannies, and kept Ann and Arty pressed against the rock wall. As he climbed into one of the dry rock pools he saw a white flag hanging from a rock on the other side of the pool.

"Hello, who's there?" he shouted. "What do you want?" he called, again.

"Please, we mean you no harm," a man's voice came from out of sight, behind the rocks.

"Show yourself, and don't try anything. I'm warning you!" Tim shouted.

Tim gestured Ann to pull Arty tight to the rocks and to get down low. He told her to put the piece of protective covering over Arty and herself, and when she started to protest, he cut her short. When Ann had complied, he turned and walked forward toward the flag.

"Come out slowly, and let me see you." Tim trained his light ahead and was ready with his right hand. He was taking no chances. If something was going to happen, whoever instigated it wouldn't even have the time to be sorry. Another flag appeared behind the first one and this one was moving so Tim knew someone was approaching.

"If anything happens, you will be the first one to go," Tim shouted toward the approaching flag.

"We mean you no harm," the voice repeated.

A man appeared from around the corner of a rock. He was haggard, dirty, and seemed to be unarmed. Tim instructed him to stop about thirty feet away. Tim recognized the man, a Mr. Sims. The man lived in Mountain Cove and had coached Ann's brothers in baseball.

"Mr. Sims, I believe," Tim said.

"How do you know me?" the man asked.

"From baseball."

"Did I coach you? Do I know you?"

"Not important. What do you want?"

"To talk."

"It's your dime," Tim stated.

"I'm with a group of people that need food and water," Sims pleaded.

"And how would I be able to help you?"

"Look, I saw the display down below, I'm not blind. Also, you have a lot of supplies 'floating' along behind you. I'm not asking any questions, just looking for help. I've got four or five people that aren't going to last much longer. 'I just need help'!"

"I still don't know how I can help you, we're in the same situation."

"Oh come on, are you really? You don't look hungry, you're clean, you don't even look tired. I don't know what kind of gun, or whatever it is you have, but there are some bad, bad people in these mountains. We would at least like your protection. My wife and kids are important to me, understand? I want them to live. Maybe we could be of some assistance to you?"

"Hello Mr. Sims," Ann said as she walked up.

"I told you to stay down!" Tim snarled.

"Fuck off General!" Ann snapped back at him.

"God-dammit, you can't trust anyone!" Tim shouted.

"Oh, just you huh, Heir Colonel?" Ann said it in a perfect German accent, with the perfect German pronunciation, clicked her heels, and saluted him. "I'm sorry, but I'm still compassionate."

"What's 'that' supposed to mean?" Tim said angrily.

"It means these people are asking for your help, and 'you' are turning them down. Do you need any more clues?" Ann said even hotter.

"I've got to talk to Arty," Tim said.

"Arty agrees with Ann," Arty's voice boomed out of the dark.

"Welcome Mr. Sims," Ann said triumphantly.

"Now hold on!" Tim cried. "I don't even know if I can, I—"

Tim was interrupted by a loud snap, and a bullet striking the sand a couple of feet in front of him. Everyone dove for cover, except him. He looked up in the direction of the boom from the gun and spotted a muzzle flash from the second shot that bounced off his right forearm. He made no attempt to seek cover, but raked the location of the muzzle flash with bolt after bolt of high energy. As the echoes from his barrage died out, Tim looked at Sims lying on the ground, and then pointed his right hand at the man.

"I hope this wasn't a plan of yours?" Tim said angrily.

"Of course not! I don't need more trouble. I've never needlessly hurt anyone in my life. Besides, I'm not foolish enough to go up against you. You're not even afraid of bullets."

"I don't have to be!"

"It's very obvious, but we still need your help!" Sims shouted back.

"Tim, come here," Arty shouted.

"How are you doing?" Tim asked as he approached his brother.

"I'm fine, but I wish I could see more. Why don't you want to help these people?" Arty asked.

"How can I?"

"Well, you tell me about this wonderful place we're going to. Don't you think there's room for a few more?"

"I don't know if I can? I'm just a guest there. I can't say yes, and then find out I was wrong, can I?"

"Well, why don't you just ask?"

*

Tim contacted the computer and explained his situation.

"It's your decision, you do what you think is right," Mr. V answered.

"Talk about passing the buck," Tim said to Arty.

"What are you so damned concerned about anyway? Christ Timmy, what's going to happen to these people if you leave them out here?"

"They'll probably die," Tim said solemnly.

"What choice do you have then?"

"That's not the point, dammit. What if something happens? How can I trust these people? What if it's a mistake to take them in there?"

"What the hell are you so worried about?" Arty sounded frustrated with Tim. "That Mr. V said it was okay, right?"

"He said it was up to me."

"Yeah, so what's your problem?"

"Mr. V doesn't have any control outside the base. He can make no decisions concerning anything outside his base. It isn't in his program, understand? Secondly, I'm taking you there because you can be helped. You'll die otherwise."

"Sounds just like the same problem with this Mr. Sims and his people, doesn't it?"

"Look Arty, I'm not sure what this Mr. V has in mind for us, understand that also." Tim had finally admitted it to himself. "I'm excited about the possibilities with Mr. V, but the power 'that machine commands'. It could be a grave risk to anyone going in there."

"Phew, elegant talk Timmy. I see your point, but what about Ann? You're planning on taking her in there."

"Yeah, I guess I decided to risk it, so I guess a few more." He stopped in mid-sentence and looked squarely at Arty. "There's so much inside this mountain that is so far beyond us. Arty, what if it's a trap? It could turn out so horrible, much worse than what could happen to Sims out here." There was concern in Tim's voice.

"It could turn out terrific too," Arty added.

"Yeah," was all Tim said as he headed back toward Sims.

"Get your people ready, and no weapons of any kind, you won't need them," Tim said to Sims.

"Where are you taking us?" Sims asked.

"The only way I can help you is to take you with us. We're going someplace safe, I hope. Please don't ask any more questions until we're there."

"You are the boss, I guess," Sims said.

"It seems, and let's hope it stays that way."

I'd like to explain my uncertainty to him, but I don't even know where to start, and we need to get inside quickly.

*

All of Sims's group were scratched and dirty. They had little clothing and were ghostly silent. As Tim approached the group the women and girls backed away, except an attractive, dark haired woman who was watching Tim intently. The group consisted of twelve counting Sims. There were three men; one was wounded in the arm and shoulder and was obviously in great pain, though he wasn't complaining. There were a couple of boys a little younger than Tim, and an older women Tim was certain was Sims's wife. There was an old man and woman that looked to be a couple. The pretty dark haired women, in her late twenties or early thirties, and two young girls about Ann's age. One of the boys and one of the girls were apparently Sims's children.

*

As Tim entered the pool containing the entrance to the base he spied a camp fire and signs of considerable human presence.

"Oh shit, we've had some company," Tim snarled.

"Not to worry, this is our last camp," Sims explained.

"Did you know there was anything different here?" Tim asked.

"Not at first, but I found some footprints coming out of solid rock in the crevice, over there," Sims pointed, "and I got a little suspicious."

"That crevice is where we're headed," Tim said as he walked into the crack in the rock. He instructed Ann to follow closely with Arty.

"Something tells me I'm going to be amazed," Sims said, as he watched Tim walk up to the rock wall at the back of the split.

Tim stopped at the back of the crevice and took out his comm unit. He activated it and spoke to Mr. V. The rock in front of him began to shimmer. The light grew in intensity until the once solid barrier was transformed into the soft blue light. The sterile smell of safety greeted his nostrils. He let out a big sigh and turned around.

"Follow quickly!" Tim instructed loudly. He stepped aside, and once Ann and Arty were inside, he ushered in Sims and his people. Each one of Sims's group passed by him as they entered the base. Some were eager, some were apprehensive, and some showed total indifference. The dark haired woman, last in the group, showed the most emotion. She rushed through the crevice and whistled as she skipped into the base.

*

Tim gathered everyone in the tunnel leading down into the heart of the base, instructed everyone to stay put, and returned to the outside. He was concerned about the tracks they had left in the soft sand. He used the sheet of protective material to wipe out the tracks, then went back inside, and resealed the opening.

*

He then led the people down the tunnel. He could hear the people whispering behind him, but everyone was staying calm.

"It's true!" Ann finally said, as they entered the control chamber. "It's really true. Oh wow!"

"Just amazing, and you just found all this? I going to have to hear that story again," Arty said.

There was a fair amount of chatter from the rest of the people, but Tim was intent because there was much work to do.

"What kind of place is this?" Sims asked as he walked up behind Tim.

"That will take a lot of explaining," Tim answered. "Just follow me for now, please."

*

Tim led the group down to the living chamber, and instructed Sims and his people to stay put. Sims guaranteed they would.

"See to it that all of you do just 'that'!" Tim said sternly. It suddenly occurred to him how cold and calculating he had become. It's necessary for the times, he thought to justify himself.

*

Tim returned to the control chamber where he had left Arty and Ann.

"Do you want to rest, or get started with Mr. V?" Tim asked Arty.

"Are you kidding, I've waited long enough already? Do you really know how to run all this?" Arty was rolling his head from side to side, trying to take in everything. Ann was off to the side inspecting the plant walls. Tim was looking forward to showing her around.

"Not exactly, but I can get it started, and it does the rest," Tim answered Arty's question.

"It!" Mr. V's voice boomed out from all directions. Ann jumped back from the wall, startled. "I'm just an 'it'? Can you imagine?"

"Oops sorry about that," Tim said laughing. He winked at Arty who was turned his way.

"Mr. V, I would like to introduce my brother Arty, and my friend Ann."

"Welcome Earthlings!" Mr. V replied in a strong, singsong, mechanical tone.

"Earthlings? Oh brother, how original. When did you think of that?" Tim asked.

"I was just trying to sound official," Mr. V returned with his normal voice.

"Geez, just try to be yourself. There's no need to try to impress anybody," Tim instructed.

Ann pulled on Tim's arm and moved her mouth close to his left ear. "Do you think you should talk to him like that? He might get mad."

"Nah, don't worry, it's not in his program."

"Huh?" was Ann's reply. She turned away from Tim, looking around the chamber. "Are you really a machine?" she asked tentatively.

"Shore nuff am." Mr. V had the southern accent down perfect.

"Wow, neat! You sound like a real person though," Ann said excited.

"I can be that too."

"Huh?" was all Ann said again.

"Later," said Tim. "Now we have to help Arty. Correct Mr. V?"

"Correct Mr. Randell, and congratulations on the success of your mission. I am very pleased to meet you Arty, and you Ann. I hope you will be comfortable here. I am looking forward to talking to you both. I have been here, alone, for a long time and will appreciate your company."

"I'm sorry about the extras," Tim said. "I hope I did the right thing, bringing them in here?"

"Do you feel that you acted wisely?" Mr. V asked.

"They probably would have died otherwise, and they appear to be good people," Tim replied. "I hope I didn't put you on the spot."

"Tim has a hard time grasping the facts concerning my role in this facility," Mr. V explained. "I am here to serve any humans that are present."

"You mean anyone that stumbled in here would have free run?" Arty asked.

"It would not be possible, to just stumble in here," Mr. V commented.

"He planned all this, but he won't admit it. Remember Deputy Dog?" Tim asked Ann and Arty.

"Of course, how could anyone forget that weirdo dog," Ann said.

"That was a fantastic dog," Arty commented.

"It was his dog, and it wasn't a real dog either," Tim explained. "It was a machine. That's how he use to watch us, but I don't know the whole story, yet."

"Oh shit!" Ann exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked.

"I'm so embarrassed," Ann said as she hid her face in her hands.

"Why?" Tim asked.

"Oh nothing, just forget it," Ann said quickly.

"I think she just remembered about the times she and her girlfriends were swimming in the pool. Am I correct?" Mr V asked.

"Oh god, you remembered!" Ann exclaimed.

"I never forget anything, but young lady; I'm just a machine so there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"That's still sick, spying on people. It's not right!" Ann exclaimed.

"I was not spying," defended Mr. V. "It is my job to record everything that happens."

"That means you've got pictures," Tim said. "Hot damn! He's got pictures of you guys skinny dipping. Ha, I'll take three, fourteen by twelve glossies."

"Fuck off Tim! That's not funny! God, you can be so insulting sometimes, and I'm really pissed!" Ann yelled as she stormed out of the chamber.

"I think we might have said the wrong things?" Mr. V commented.

"Yeah, she's been through a lot. I guess we should be more careful around her. Anyway, it's great to be home," Tim said.

"So this is your home now?" Mr. V stated.

"There's not much left of the old one, so I guess this is it," Tim returned.

"That's true, but let's not dwell on the past. It's done and gone, and I'm sure Arty is eager to see what I can do for him. Am I correct?" the computer asked.

"Yes! Oh god, yes!" Arty shouted. "When Tim was telling me about this place, and what you might be able to do it was impossible to believe."

"Not impossible at all, I can definitely help you," Mr. V said.

"It's possible? You're serious then? I can be whole again? Please Mr. V, please help me." Arty pleaded.

"Yes, I promise, I can help you," the computer said.

"Oh fantastic! Let's get started! I'm all yours!" Arty shouted.

"Good, then let's not waste any more time!" Mr. V stated. "Tim, I have started medical examinations on the people you brought in, and some are not in good condition. It would be nice for them to see you, to comfort them. I think some of them are frightened, and it would be good for Ann if you showed her some of the base. There are many things I'm sure she would be interested in. It might get her mind off what's troubling her."

"Tim, thanks for not forgetting me." There were tears in Arty's eyes. "I'd given up you know. I'd been preparing myself for the end for quite a while, and now! To get a chance to not only live, but to walk again, and, and to be self-sufficient. Just to be able to take care of myself again, I can't even explain Timmy, I can't even explain. Thank you Timmy, thank you so much." Arty laid his head back with a content look on his face. "I'm ready for you now Mr. V."

"We'll talk later, and I couldn't have done any less," Tim said over his shoulder as he left Arty.

*

Tim went back to the living chamber to check on Sims and his people, and get them settled in. They seemed to be content, but Tim was having a little trouble convincing them about the medical care.

"Here in the base, there is no hands on care," he explained. "The patient is simply surrounded by a cocoon of bright blue light, then put into an unconscious state, and when you come to you are well." That was how he tried to explain it, but there were no takers.

"Please, trust me, because I've gone through it myself, and I guarantee it works. Please?" Tim was getting frustrated. He stood there with his hands on his hips, waiting.

Finally, the old woman raised her hand. "Young man, oh young man, I could go first, if it's all right?" She had many scratches and a couple of deep infected cuts. She introduced herself as Mrs. Paulson.

Tim helped her to her feet and over to the control hologram. He instructed the hologram to start the procedure. First a table shaped object floated out of the wall. Tim instructed Mrs. Paulson to sit on it. She hesitated, putting out her hand to touch the new object. She gave Tim an assuring shrug and sat up on it. He gave her a wink, and she returned it with a smile. A soft light began to form an egg shaped healing cocoon around her. The old woman looked out of the rapidly thickening light and waved toward the group.

As the light was almost obscuring the old woman her head began to sink toward her chest. Tim saw her fall over on her side, as the light finally covered her from view.

Tim decided to pass the time, until Mrs. Paulson returned, with small talk with Sims and the group. He asked for names, and listened as each person told a little about themselves. He was surprised no one asked him about the base, until he asked Sims why?

Sims explained. "You told me you would explain everything later. It isn't that they don't 'have' a lot of questions, they're just willing to wait."

Tim looked in the direction of the blue shimmering cocoon every so often, and about forty-five minutes after it had enveloped Mrs. Paulson, it began to waver and diminish. The woman was lying on her back as she came into view, and when the light was gone, she sat up slowly. She turned to the group and stood up. A cheer went up in unison, as she walked smartly toward them. It was quite obvious to everyone the wounds had been healed. Her skin was clean and smooth, and there was a definite bounce to her step.

"Sonny, oh excuse me dear, I mean Tim. You were right because I feel just wonderful. I don't know how I can repay you," said Mrs. Paulson.

"No need to, Mam," Tim said. "I should be thanking you. You were very brave, willing to go first like that."

"I'm too old to be afraid. Now I think Mr. Coyle there is in need of your miracles." Mrs. Paulson pointed over to where the one seriously wounded man was laying.

"Come on, come on people, get him over there where Tim can do him some good," she commanded.

Jeff Coyle was placed on the floating table, and the light started to increase again. He had a frightened look on his face, but was in so much pain he didn't object.

*

Ann had returned to the chamber, and Tim wanted to talk to her in private. Everything was going smoothly with the medical procedures Mr. V would continue to handle. Tim led her down to the subterranean forest, all the while explaining what he knew about the wonders he was showing her. As he explained, with all the enthusiasm he could muster, he had the feeling she wasn't really listening. He wanted her to be the old Ann, funny, always bubbly, and full of confidence. She was so different now, so drawn in. When they finally reached the immense chamber of the forest, Ann barely showed a reaction. "Big deal," was her only comment.

Damn Tony and his stupid selfish actions, Tim thought angrily, because of him, an innocent, fragile person was fighting a terrible inner battle. It's hard to smile after all you've been through, I'd imagine?" Tim commented, as they sat on the ledge, looking out over the darkened forest.

Ann turned, and gave him a constructed smile, but didn't say anything.

"I'm just trying to help," he said.

"Then leave me alone," she answered calmly.

"To sit and feel sorry for yourself?" Tim quickly countered.

"No, to be alone. I just want to be alone. I don't want your company, or your sympathy, okay!" Ann spat the words out sharp and quick.

"What is your problem, I'm always there for you."

"Oh, where were you when 'that bastard' killed Sammy?" Ann started to shake, and to yell at Tim. "And where were you when 'that sicko' did those horrible things."

"I didn't know, I was sleeping," Tim said sheepishly. "I had gone to get my stuff, and I didn't realize how dangerous it was out there." Tim knew it was a weak defense.

"You are so careful now." Ann was gritting her teeth, trying to stay in control. "You want to be in charge now, but you blew it when we really needed you, and I'll never forget. I'll take care of myself from now on, so leave."

"You got it!" Tim sprang up, and walked away with his hands deep in his pockets. He was mad; he was confused, and suddenly very lonely. Didn't Ann realize he had suffered too, but he didn't intend to shut out his friends? He had dealt with his losses, she would have to also. He realized no one could feel the hurt of what she had experienced, and it would probably take time and understanding. He was her friend and would be there when she needed him. The thought made him feel better.

*

He returned to the control chamber and Arty was gone. He thought about contacting Mr. V, but changed his mind. He wasn't sleepy so he decided to go see how Sims and his people were doing.

*

Sims had his people dispersed along the floor.

I'm definitely the asshole of the month. All the wonders of this place, and here these poor, unfortunate people are sleeping on the floor, probably still hungry.

Sims was still awake, propped up against the wall talking to his wife and daughter.

"Mr. Sims, I'm sorry," Tim apologized. "I've been a poor host, but there were things I had to do."

"Oh don't apologize, this is the best we've had it in quite a few days. We owe you a lot," he returned.

"I wish I had offered you assistance right away, but I've learned to be cautious," Tim went on.

"No problem, your experience has taught you well," Sims said.

"Mr. Sims, let me show you and your friends some of the wonders of this place." Tim looked up. "Mr. V, I need to welcome our new guests and I need the following." First, Tim requested sleeping berths, and small dimples appeared on the smooth surface along one wall, then deepened and widened until it was the right size and depth.

Next he ordered new clothing. Many of the small colored light balls drifted out of the wall and headed toward the people. Tim watched, as the balls separated and one circled each individual. The guests had different reactions as the colored balls selected them and circled. One of the boys began grabbing at the ball circling him, laughing with excitement. The girl Tim figured was Sims's daughter was scared of the ball racing around her. Mostly the individuals were apprehensive at first because the experience was unusual, but gradually relaxed. Then they quickly became fascinated.

"They look amused," Tim said to Sims.

"This is the first entertainment they've had in many days," Sims replied.

Suddenly the colored balls changed into small packets, and the new clothing drifted to each astonished person. Tim then arranged lavatory facilities, so the people could clean up and change. The same dimple construction formed the men's and lady's rooms.

"The beds are wonderful, and if anyone wants anything special to eat or drink, just give me your request. I'm your slave for the evening," Tim instructed.

No one spoke up.

"Come on, don't be shy!" Tim shouted. "You deserve to live it up!"

Finally a tiny voice said, "Ice cream!"

"What flavor?" Tim asked.

"Pralines and Cream," was the answer.

Oh ooh, leave it to a kid to trip you up. "Well, Mr. V claims to have the recipe for everything, so it's worth the try," he said out loud.

Mr. V said two and a half minutes.

"Rome and ice cream take time," he said over his shoulder. "It will be a few minutes, any other requests?"

"This may sound stupid, but I sure would enjoy a cold beer," Sims said, and a sudden agreement arose from some of the others.

"I can try that." I'm not sure about liquor, because I think it needs time to ferment, but who knows, Mr. V might be able to do it. "Cold beer coming up, cross your fingers."

Mr. V said wait. Tim took a few more requests, popcorn, coke, cake, etc.

The ice cream arrived. When the kid who made the request took a bite, the look on his face told Tim Mr. V had come through. The kids dove into the ice cream, just as the beer arrived. The people were adjusting quickly; there were no more gasps as frothy mugs floated out of the wall. Sims grabbed one of the mugs and took a healthy drink.

"Hot damn, I've been saved for sure," he said, as a big smile broke out on his face. "Come on, drink up," he commanded the people who were gathered around him, ready to join in.

Sims handed Tim a beer and Tim took a deep drink.

"Man does that taste great!" Tim said. A party is just what we all needed. All the bullshit has made everyone too solemn. We are safe, we can afford to celebrate.

The party was in full swing when the good looking woman approached Tim.

"Hi hero, I've been wanting to talk to you in person." She pressed up tight against him and gave him a hard kiss on the cheek.

"I'm going to get cleaned up and try on my new clothes, but I want to see more of you a little later. Okay hero baby?" She walked away with a movement Tim wasn't likely to forget for a while. Tim took another long drink, as she move out of sight.

"So that's what a real woman looks like," Tim said, kind of to himself, but Sims heard him and burst out laughing.

"Boy, have you got your hands full now," Sims said.

"Who is she?"

"She calls herself Margie, but didn't mention a last name. I guess her husband was killed in the quake. Anyway, she joined up with us six days ago. She's not afraid of anything, and a hell of a shot. She had a lot to do with us lasting this long. Ah Tim," Sims added. "I've been wondering about this place, and I was hoping you were going to get around to explaining it to me? At your convenience, of course."

"I promise, I will. Tomorrow okay?"

"Fair enough."

*

The party went on, the beer got drunk, and so did Tim. He was feeling really good because the party had been a great idea. It helped everyone to get to know each other in a relaxed atmosphere. Margie had returned and was talking about anything and everything. She explained some of her past, and was excitedly talking about her future. Tim felt sorry for her because the future would be nothing like she expected, or hoped. She was constantly nuzzling up to him, and he was loving it. He was truly the man of the hour. As the party was winding down, many of the rag tag group had gotten together and approached Tim as he was in conversation with Margie.

"Tim we wanted to make sure we thanked you properly," said Mr. Coyle. He had been rejuvenated and was feeling fine, "I want to thank you for the help you have given us. You have saved all our lives. I don't know, or can't even imagine what this place is, but thank you for sharing it with us. We are in your debt."

"I second that, and there are people here that will third it and fourth it," Mrs. Paulson jumped in. "We are happy to be here at—" She hesitated. "What do you call this place anyway?"

"It doesn't have a name, that I know of," Tim said.

"Timtown!" Margie shouted.

"Yeah!" A few of the group quickly added.

"Oh come on," Tim exclaimed embarrassed.

"Yeah, Timtown," Margie repeated. "You said it doesn't have a name. Well, I say we should call it Timtown in honor of what you did for us." She turned with her arms spread in a what about it gesture, and suddenly the name Timtown was spreading among the people.

Tim tried to argue the point, but it was futile. He wondered what Mr. V would say. Certainly the place had a name, but he had never asked, and Mr. V had never volunteered it. To these people it was now Timtown.

The party died with the tired participants, one by one, finding a cubicle and going to sleep. Margie and Tim talked a while longer.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Margie asked.

"She's got a lot to sort out so she wanted to be alone," Tim answered.

"This is a hard time for a young girl. Does she have any family?"

"They were all killed."

"I thought something had happened. I saw a lot of pain in her eyes. Maybe I can help," Margie offered.

"Maybe you can? I feel so bad for her. A lot of bad shit happened to her, and it's like she doesn't want to forget about it."

"Maybe she can't yet because it takes time so I'll try to be her friend, and maybe I can do some good. I can't promise, but I can try. Hey, and I'm sorry about being so forward and talking so much," Margie said, "but it helps keep my mind off things, you know, to be a flirt. Besides, you're eating it up, right?"

"You noticed huh?"

"Sure did, and I hope you didn't mind the Timtown thing, but it does have a quality ring to it, don't you think?"

"You mean if my name was Harry, you'd have thought of something else?"

"You bet, Harrytown? Get serious!"

"Ha, ha, still it's a little embarrassing," Tim confessed.

"You'll get over it, but, I'm pooped, so good night. Tomorrow I want to see more of this place, okay?"

"You got it."

*

Tim staggered back to the forest. He stood looking over the great expanse which was still in its artificial night. He wasn't in any shape to go looking for Ann so found the way down, then collapsed unto the cool grass.

*

Tim was awaken by something poking in his nose. When he opened his eyes they responded with a stab of pain shooting back into his brain.

Hangover! It was his second, and he suddenly remembered his first. A chill went down his spine. He closed his eyes and squeezed them tight, trying to push the hurt out, but it didn't work.

"Smells like you drank a few beers, Timmy boy," Ann announced, standing over him with a small stick.

"A few too many, I now realize," Tim returned. "Well, at least I had fun last night. Wait a minute, I'll bet Mr. V has something for a hangover. He must have a cure for something as simple as this."

"Is there anyone else in this place?" Ann asked.

"Here in the base, is that what you mean?"

"Is there anyone else in this place, besides us?" Ann asked again.

"Yeah Arty, Sims and—"

"No, no, I mean beside them," interrupted Ann.

"I don't think so. Mr. V's always said he was alone before I came. Why, did something happen?" Tim jumped to his feet.

"No, nothing happened. I was just wondering if that Mr. V, whatever the hell he is, is alone here?"

"I think so, but why the wondering? Is something scaring you?"

"No," Ann answered.

"Then what's up?"

"It's strange, I'm not sure I can explain it," she continued.

"You can try."

"Last night, I walked a long way into the forest. Oh Tim, have you been in there?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, I was in there, and it was really dark. I should have been scared, but I wasn't. I was lost, I had no idea how to get back and I still wasn't scared. It's really strange. I would never roam around Mountain Cove, at night, by myself like that."

"It's why the forest is here," Tim commented.

"Huh, I don't get you?"

"Remember when you first came inside?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, remember when you were touching the walls, when we first talked to Mr. V?"

"Yeah, they were so neat."

"What did you feel?" Tim asked, happy Ann was finally showing an interest.

"They were so soft and beautiful. Were they real plants?"

"Bingo! How did you feel?"

"Ah, I don't know? What do you mean, how did I feel?"

"Why did you keep touching them so long?"

"They felt good."

"No, that's not it. They made 'you'," Tim pointed at her, "feel good."

"That's what I said," Ann said quickly.

"No, no, look the walls are plants, yes? And they feel good, and they are beautiful, but the plants here are here for a reason, to soothe, to calm. That's why you weren't scared in the forest."

"Oh that's nuts, I didn't like walking through that date grove when I'd take the shortcut from the shopping center, and they're plants."

"The plants in this place are advanced to what we're used to," Tim explained.

"Oh don't start that evolution bullshit again. Did you know there are bunnies out there?"

Tim hesitated because he had never seen any wildlife in the forest, but he remembered he had told Mr. V about how much Ann liked rabbits. He wasn't going to spoil it for her by telling her they were probably machines. Nor was he going to get into an argument about evolution. Even before the earthquake, when they had been real close, it had been a dead issue. She would not accept the notion that she was related to monkeys in any way shape or form.

"There is any animal you can think off in here," Tim stated.

"Oh come on, it can't be that big," Ann declared.

"I've seen a six foot dragon fly, and a Tyrannosaurs Rex."

Ann just looked at him with her patented, 'don't be pulling my leg face and posture'. "No shit. How big is this place?"

"I don't know. I was only here a few days. It's unbelievable though. 'Arty'!" Tim jumped to his feet. "Have you seen Arty yet?"

"No, I haven't gone anyplace."

"Let's find him," Tim said, as he rushed toward the edge of the forest.

*

When they had gotten to the control chamber, Tim contacted the computer.

Mr. V assured them Arty was doing fine and he would be along soon, and he would be under his own power.

Chapter 10

Retribution & Regret

"Did you hear that, under his own power! 'Fantastic'!" Tim yelled. "Man, I'll bet he's feeling gaarreat!"

Tim suddenly remembered his own head wasn't feeling so good. He confessed his sin to Mr. V who laughed and said he could help. A platter floated out of the wall in the customary way and on it was a small pill and a pistol.

"What's that for?" Ann snarled when she saw the gun.

"Oh, I think it's just a joke. Remember, I told you he thinks he has a sense of humor."

"Well, I don't think it's funny," Ann said.

*

The pill for the hangover was starting to take effect by the time Tim and Ann had made their way to the living quarters. Sims and his people were mostly up and looking much better.

"Good morning Mr. Sims," Tim said.

"Call me Hal, please," he returned.

"Okay Hal. Could you and your group stay put just a little while longer, then I'll show you around, but first some breakfast."

"How can you come up with all those things, like ice cream and beer?" Hal questioned.

"Mr. V records everything," Tim answered.

"What's that got to do with making ice cream?" Hal questioned.

"He knows about everything that goes on. He records radio, television, telephone, internet, military, and everything else. How the hell he makes all the stuff, I have no idea. I'm fairly new here too."

"Isn't there anyone here? Where did all this come from?"

"It's a long story, but I'll tell you later. You'll love it," Tim said as he winked at Hal.

"I'll bet!" Hal returned.

Margie appeared and walked up to them. "Head going bong, bong, this morning?" she said to Tim.

"It was, but I got a magic pill. Do you need one?" he asked her.

"Oh no, I'm tougher than that because I'm a big girl." She squeezed Tim's arm and gave him a look that made him weak.

Tim looked around, quick, for Ann, but she had moved over to where the children were playing.

"How's the girl this morning, what's her name?" Margie asked.

"Ann, and she's better," Tim said happily.

"Tricky, unpredictable are we women. We can change just like that." Margie snapped her fingers, her face became serious, and she looked Tim straight in the eyes. "And, when the strong ones want something, they can usually get it." Her direct stare made him uncomfortable. Just as he was about to look away, her face broke into a big grin. "Scared yeah, didn't I?" she said with a laugh.

"No, I always randomly break out in a sweat like this," Tim returned.

"You're okay, we're going to get along fine." She patted his shoulder as she passed him, on her way to where Ann and the children were.

"I think she's taken a real liking to you," Hal said.

"I wonder what she wants?" Tim commented.

"Maybe you, she's a passionate women, I'm sure. You're so young and innocent though, but I envy you. Great looking lady, and what legs," Hal said with a snicker.

"What a way to go, is what you're trying to tell me, huh?"

"Oh, you'll probably live through it, but just in case, how do we survive in here without you?"

"Would you like to accompany me on the grand tour?" Tim asked.

"I thought you would never ask," Sims said excitedly. "This place really doesn't have a name?" Sims added.

"You know, I never asked," Tim answered. "Hey, Mr. V, what do you call this place?"

"It is called Timtown," he replied.

"Very funny," Tim returned. "I mean what did the Sooaunts call it?"

"Whuc Seaacki."

*

Tim explained how he had found Whuc Seaacki and a vague outline of what else he knew. He was vague because he didn't understand fully, and there was no sense in scaring anyone.

"You know, I had a funny feeling about what was up here," Hal said. "I'm sure that intuition or something made me camp right outside, but nothing good happened and we started to run out of water. Then some sickos found us. Thank god for Margie because she scattered them, but they were regrouping when you came along. Anyway, when you put on the little show down below, I knew right where you were headed. Sounds strange I know, but it's the truth. I knew you were coming here, and something told me you would help us."

"Mr. V," Tim said.

"What about Mr. V?"

"I'll bet you were brought here, just like I was."

"You think so?"

"It would be a safe bet."

"Maybe he's a humanitarian at heart?"

"Let's hope so." Tim looked at Hal with a serious look.

"Sounds like you're not sure. I thought you were a little uncertain when you were trying to explain this place." Hal understood what Tim was implying.

"Another long story. You took quite a chance Hal. What if I had been one of the bad guys?" Tim had changed the subject.

"I had no other choice because we needed help and we needed it fast. Besides, it was apparent you wanted to be left alone. You weren't looking for trouble; that was apparent too. And, you were coming here, so what else could I do? When you showed up down there you gave us some time, and if you'd gotten in here without us, we'd have been finished."

"It really bothers me; so many people have turned into scum. I mean, preying on the helpless. My god, what 'a bunch of shit'. What happened to turn them into animals?"

"The scum's always been here Son; the situation just allows them to be what they've always been. With no controls they can run at will. There's a lot of good people still out there, don't forget that," Sims said as he moved over to the small boy that with him. "This is my son Jeremy. Jeremy say hello to Tim."

At first the small boy said nothing, but just moved his head around staring at the inside of the chamber. After many moments, he looked toward Tim, but sort of through him, and finally said, "Hellllloooo Timmmma." The boy had a faraway look in his eyes, and the words were spoken with a strange difficulty.

"Jeremy is what we call an autistic savant," Sims explained. "At first you don't expect much from him, but when you least expect it, he can astound you."

"Jeremy, what do you think of where Tim has brought us? Is this okay for you?" Sims asked, but the boy wandered off without any acknowledgment. The boy was maybe ten, maybe older because it was hard to tell. His movements were inconsistent and it was apparent his developmental growth had been affected.

Sometime later, while Tim was telling Sims about the base, Tim heard the boy giggling and talking in a strange gibberish. He looked to the right, and there was Jeremy standing against one of the walls covered with the plants. He had his hands out with the palms flat against the green foliage of the plants. He was making strange sounds like he was talking to the plants. He would emit the strange language, then stop and appear to listen. Tim walked over and observed the child close up. The boy did not seem to notice Tim and continued his deep involvement with the wall. It was apparent something was happening between these strange little plants and this strange little boy.

Sims had followed Tim over and spoke. "I have learned to take Jeremy serious. In the few years he has been with us, he has baffled and amazed me many times. He lives in a different world than we do. I used to feel the pain, the pain a parent feels when his or her child is suffering, but the longer he's here, the more I'm convinced it's our world that's backwards."

They left the little boy and headed out to explore more of the base. Tim continued to explain what he knew of the base as he and Sims walked. They arrived at the first chamber and Tim offered Hal one of the large chairs from the original inhabitants.

"Who the heck did this belong to?" Hal asked as he flopped into the oversized seat.

"The people who built this place, they were quite tall."

"Oh boy, I wouldn't want one of these guys mad at me," Hal stated.

"They're impressive all right."

"How do you know? I thought they were all gone?"

"Mr. V has a model he likes to walk around in, sometimes, showing off," Tim said.

A small bright orb appeared, floating off to the side, and Hal questioned Tim about it.

"I don't know? Mr. V, what does this mean?"

"There are many persons at the entrance, fifteen to be exact. They're looking for the way in," the computer said.

"What do we do?" Tim asked.

"Nothing, it is not necessary. There is no way they can get in," Mr. V returned.

"Who are they?"

"I have no way of knowing, but I don't think they are friendly. They appear to have slaves."

"What?" Tim shouted.

"Take a look," Mr. V said.

The orb expanded into a three-foot round hologram in front of Tim and Hal. In the hologram a group of five men and two women were down in the pool containing the entrance. Up along the trail a couple of more men stood guard over six pathetic figures huddled together in the hot Sun.

"Why the hell do those bastards have to abuse someone like that?" Tim pounded a fist into the other palm.

"They are uncertain about their futures, maybe?" Mr. V answered.

"What's that got to do with being cruel?" Tim stated.

"I think what Mr. V means, is they're scared, and fear can make weak people do strange things," Hal added.

"That is what I meant," Mr. V said.

"Can I rescue the prisoners?" Tim asked.

"You're in charge," Mr V said.

"I was asking for your permission?"

"You don't need it. It's your job to make the decisions concerning what goes on outside."

"I know, I know, it's not in your program! As far as the job thing goes, what's the pay?" Tim asked.

"Room, board, and all the beer you can drink," Mr. V returned.

"Ah, the beer sounds good, so why don't you join us tonight?" Tim asked.

"Wouldn't do me much good because I'm a machine remember. I can't get drunk."

"You can fake it. I know, we'll stick your finger in a wall socket, that'll give you a thrill," Tim chuckled.

"I think I'd rather fake it. Now don't you think you should get on with your good deed?" the computer asked.

"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to messing with the bullies. I need a flaming red protection suit with a helmet to match?"

"There is no need to change the suit because it changes colors, remember. I will produce the helmet now."

*

One of the men was standing at the beginning of the crevice, facing away, as Tim came through the force field. The man knew none of his group was behind him and when he heard Tim he spun around with his rifle at the ready. When he saw Tim in the red suit he let out a horrendous scream and dropped his weapon. The man was frozen with fright, as Tim raised both his arms horizontal and approached him with robot like motions. The man fainted.

By now the rest of the intruders were alerted, and one came running toward Tim. Tim stepped out of the crevice and into the open. The man was at the bottom of the pool when he caught sight of Tim. His mouth dropped and he turned to run back up the slope. In his haste he lost his footing, pawing at the rocky incline in desperation, but to no avail. With arms and legs flailing he slid back ending up at Tim's feet. The terrified man turned pure white, as Tim put him out with a stun.

A blast struck Tim in the back knocking him forward. When he regained his balance he turned to face another man with a shotgun. The man was looking at Tim in disbelief. He had hit the blazing red creature, he was positive, but now the red demon was walking straight at him, apparently unharmed. The man backed up, as Tim came toward him, and was soon pressed up against the rock wall with no place to go. The man was petrified, his eyes as big as silver dollars, his mouth working with no sound coming out. Tim stopped ten feet from him, and the man dropped his gun and started sobbing.

"If you want to live, don't move. Do you understand?" Tim said in a mechanical voice.

Tim received no answer, just croaks and groans.

"Do you understand?" Tim said much louder and forceful.

Still no answer.

"Do you want to live?" Tim said machine like. "Answer me!"

The man jumped and pressed himself harder into the rocks, but managed a weak stammering. "Y. . .y. . .ye. . .s."

"Yes, what?" Tim bellowed louder in his machine voice. Tim was impressed with his impersonation of a robot. He thought he sounded very real.

"I don't know," the man sobbed, apparently touched by Tim's machine impression.

"We are talking about your life. You will remain exactly where you are. If you move, I will kill you. Do you understand?" Tim was getting better with the machine sound. The last words he forced way into the back, upper part of his mouth.

"Yes, oh yes, please, don't kill me. I'll do anything. Oh please, don't hurt me. Please, I won't move an inch, I promise, I promise. I promise, I won't move." The man had his hands together and was praying to Tim.

"You chicken-shit, son-of-a-bitch! You can brutalize defenseless people for your enjoyment," Tim changed to his real voice because he had suddenly lost his desire to play games with the man. "But, when the tables are turned, you fall apart. You're a piece of shit."

"Whhhooo arrrree yyoouuuu?" the man asked, trembling.

"I'm your worst nightmare," Tim quoted a movie he had seen.

Tim turned and looked like he was going to walk away, but suddenly spun around and yelled "Boo!"

The man grabbed his chest, his face went white with shock, and he emptied his bladder and alimentary canal.

Tim turned away, disgusted. I hope I gave the bastard a heart-attack. He crossed the pool, then started up the slope to where the prisoners were supposed to be. They were still there, minus their brave guards. Tim could see them scrambling up the steep slope. As Tim approached the prisoners they didn't seem particularly afraid of him. They didn't cower or pull back, but just watched him intently.

"I'm a friend, just a kid in a funny suit." Tim tried to sound as gentle and reassuring as possible. "I'm here to help. Will you please follow me?"

Tim watched their faces as they rose timidly. There was an old man and a woman that seemed to be together. The man helped the woman to her feet and had to hold her up. The man was weak himself, so Tim moved toward them to assist, not knowing what their reaction would be. The woman held on to his arm, grateful for the help. These people had been through so much that Tim's strange appeared made no difference. They seemed to trust him, or didn't care anymore.

The remainder of the group followed along as Tim helped the old couple down the rocks into the pool. There were two more women he had never seen before, and a girl he recognized as a school mate. He decided against identifying himself at the time. She looked frightened and it might be better if Ann talked to her first. No telling what had happened to her as a captive. The girl was with a boy, seven or eight, that she was protecting.

Tim escorted the six ex-slaves and their three past masters back into the base. The man he had told to stay put had not moved an inch.

The six he rescued he turned over to Hal. The three he captured he turned over to Mr. V who produced his large alien being form to guard them. They offered no resistance and seemed relieved to be captured, or probably relieved to get some decent food, as Hal had commented. When they asked Hal about Tim, Hal told them Tim was the Lord and Master and was to be referred to as such and obeyed, and he would decide their fate later. With that threat, and the large humanoid watching their every move, Hal said he didn't expect any trouble from them.

*

Tim was headed out through the crevice to the outside world again, when Hal stopped him.

"Where are you off to?" he asked Tim.

"Out."

"I know you can take care of yourself, but don't you think looking for trouble is unwise?"

"What makes you think I'm going hunting trouble?"

"Oh, I don't know, but I'll bet you're going hunting for something. Am I right?"

"Hal look, I can't just sit here knowing things like that are going on out there."

"Things like what?"

"You know, this slave thing. What the hell do they think they're doing?" Tim growled. "They're bastards Hal, and if I catch any, I'm going to fuck um up. I can't just sit here, when I can do something about it."

"I understand, but I doubt if you're going to sneak up on anybody dressed like that." Hal was referring to the bright red suit Tim still had on for the benefit of his three prisoners.

*

Hal was right. After a short period, for equipment adjustment, Tim was outside, climbing the trail to the top of the canyon. He had changed the color of his protection suit to a dusty tan color, with a helmet to match so he blended into the surroundings of the desert mountains. When he was halfway up the steep incline he thought about his four-wheeler. He stopped, turned around, and hurried back into the base.

*

An hour later, he reappeared at the entrance in the pool with a machine that looked like a motorcycle without wheels. The Sky-bike, as Tim christened it, had been in Mr. V's inventory all along, but there had been many adjustments made to accommodate his smaller size. It floated a foot off the ground, no doubt capable of some wild performance.

A small squirrel was standing on his hind legs in the pool, his front paws pulled up below his chin, staring at Tim.

Tim mounted the machine and settled on. He pressed the accelerator like Mr. V had instructed. The machine jumped forward, pulling Tim right off, leaving him lying flat on his back in the sand. The machine shot up the slope, slowed and turned, and came back down. It pulled up alongside Tim, still lying in the sand propped up on his elbows, and stopped. The small squirrel seemed to be laughing. Tim jumped up, dusted himself off, and remounted the machine.

This time Tim was much more delicate with the start. He rode it down the series of pools. By the time he reached the rock slide blocking the canyon he had a decently good feel for the bike. At the pile of rubble he pressed the accelerator a little harder, and the Sky-bike took him effortlessly to the top. Tim stopped and surveyed the valley stretched out far below.

The lava had filled the lower end, and the fissure had extended itself many miles to the Northwest along the fault line. The lava that first flowed out of the fault had hardened, forming a dam at the lower end of the valley. As the new lava flowed up to the dam it would start to move up and over, but some hardened before it could move down the backside. This caused the dam to build on itself. Behind it the Valley of Sun and Fun was filling with liquid rock. Only the upper end was still visible, but in a matter of days that too would disappear, entombed forever in the advancing earth.

He pointed the Sky-bike toward the valley and started down. He took it easy at first, learning the feel of his new toy. The bike traveled along at two feet off the ground. It bucked up over rocks and bushes on its own. Tim pointed the machine at a hill coming up and the bike pulled up the one side, over the top, and down the other side without Tim doing a thing.

A nice touch, he thought, because a mistake in judgment wouldn't smash him into the ground. He pulled the bike up into the air and tried a speed test. The acceleration nearly ripped him off the machine, again. Within seconds, a display said 90, and the Sky-bike was still charging strongly. A couple of seconds later, at 110, Tim eased the accelerator back and stabilized the speed. The rushing air was violently pulling at him and his arms were about to give out, causing him to drop the speed down. His new toy would need some work in the form of a windshield and cowling.

Wow what a ride! With Mr. V at my disposal, no telling what I can make.

Next he tested the weapons system. In the visor of his helmet, cross hairs appeared when he activated the laser gun. The gun moved up or down, side to side, in unison with the cross hairs on the visor. He simply moved his head to line up the target in the cross hairs and the gun was pointed to exactly the same spot. He sighted on some rocks ahead and to the left and pressed the firing button. "Zap", the rocks shattered from the impact of a powerful energy beam. He struck two more random targets in quick succession, both perfect shots. There was no need to make a head on attack with this thing; the laser could strike accurately in a wide circle to the front.

*

Tim reached the flatter terrain below the mountains and put the machine through the paces. It accelerated, turned, braked, climbed, and dove with such force; he would have to add some sort of harness to make sure he would stay on the machine. One time, when Tim tried a sudden dive the bike went down so fast he almost lost it. A panic grip with both hands was all that saved him. He was stretched out horizontal with his legs flying well above the machine. Only the protection suit and helmet saved his chin and crotch when he re-contacted the bike.

The control display in between the handlebars had a circle with a dot in the center. Tim saw a cluster of specks appear in the circle at the top, slightly off center. He made a slight turn to the right and the specks moved to the middle of the screen. They were moving toward the dot in the center as he raced forward at over 100 mph. Mr. V had instructed him; orange meant life forms, dark green meant machinery, and blue constructed objects. These were orange. Tim stained his eyes as he raced toward a grove of trees and could see nothing, even though the dots were almost to the center of the screen.

He slowed his speed as he came up over the trees. There was someone in there, he was sure; Mr. V's sensors wouldn't lie. As he came over the top of the trees he saw what the screen had been telling him. The sensor had said life forms were there, and they were. Mountain Cove's stray dog pack was still in operation. They were laying in the shade, escaping the hot Sun.

Tim wondered how long they could survive now that food must almost be gone, and the starving human's had rifles. It would surely mean the end for the enduring pack. He rode over the dogs and their sanctuary, then dropped down to ground level and headed toward the town. Wonderful gadgets these sensors. I won't be going ahead blind.

*

Tim entered the first houses, staying close to the ground and proceeding cautiously. Although the radar showed nothing, the houses and the broken ground could be hiding possible danger. I'm not afraid of getting hurt because I'm protected, but no sense letting anyone see me or the machine and start wondering.

He had passed his house and was coming up to the spot where he had left his van. He drove up to the abandoned machinery and dismounted the bike. He walked past the first dozer with the large stain on the side. He was sure it was blood. Past the second dozer his suspicions were confirmed. The bodies of the construction crew lay in a crevice just in front of the machine. All these men had been doing was to try to help and it had cost them their lives.

Tim inspected the burned out van, but the fire had consumed it completely. He felt sadness; the links to his past were all going. He had gone by his house on the way down and had not stopped. He would on his way back up though, but it would be the last time. Then all the ties to my past life will be severed.

*

Tim traveled a few more miles down the cove toward the lava flow, but the foul air and the heat made him turn back. He was sure the air would become harmful if he went any farther without a breathing apparatus. Another note to make for the next time he left the base.

Tim headed for Ann's house, intending to pick up some of her clothes and some of the games they used to play together. Maybe some of the old memories would help Ann deal with what had happened to her.

As he approached her house the sensors indicated numerous life forms a mile and a half beyond.

*

After stopping at the house and picking up what he could, Tim then approached the objects he had seen on the screen. He spotted a group of people moving down the wash coming out of the mountains. The wash ran next to the last row of houses on the West end of the town. Tim saw ten people, and the scope agreed. Sure as hell, he could see what appeared to be two unwilling persons in the group. They were carrying large loads, and a man was forcing them on, striking them in the back of the legs with a fishing pole as they struggled in the soft sand. He could see the two carrying the loads were a man and a woman. The woman was obviously in a bad way and she could hardly remain on her feet. The man with her was trying to help her, but the man with the pole would hit him, and push him away. The woman sunk to the ground, as Tim jumped over the dike and into the wash. The man with the pole raised it to strike the fallen woman. Tim fired a charge from his right hand, set to maximum. The blast caught the man square, propelling him backwards twenty feet. The body wriggled grotesquely a couple of times, then lay still on the sand, smoking.

Tim dispatched four more of the bastards before any of them could reach the cover of the far bank of the wash. The last three scrambled over the bank, as Tim ran to the man and woman.

"Let's get this crap off of her," Tim said to her companion.

"What's your name?" Tim asked the man

The man tried to answer, but it came out as a croak.

"Who's the lady?" Tim continued.

Tim was horrified at the woman's appearance. Her lips were cracked and bleeding, her face and arms were covered with what Tim suspected were burns. The man cradled her head and was sobbing.

Tim retrieved some water from the Sky-bike and splashed it on her lips. She opened her mouth and her swollen tongue searched for the liquid. He pulled her head up slightly and poured a small quantity down her throat. She pulled her arms up to grab at the container, but Tim pulled it away and gave it to the man. He told the man to drink just a small amount to start with. The man took a small drink, but seemed to be more concerned with the woman's plight.

"My name's Tim, I'll help you if you like."

The man gave a small nod, just as a bullet passed close over their heads.

"Goddamn Bastards!" Tim commented to the man. Another bullet struck the sand just to the side of them.

"What the hell is wrong with you creeps?" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Stay down, I'll be back," he said to the man.

Tim ran to the bike and jumped on. He rode it to the top of the dike and stopped, making himself plain as possible. He looked at the display to locate the remaining scum. The scope said they were three hundred yards away. Tim looked in the direction the display indicated and saw a group of trees along the wash's outside edge. Tim started forward and pulled the Sky-bike up so he could get a clear shot over the dike. He began to fire the bike's powerful laser into the clump of trees. By the time he reached the location the trees were reduced to smoldering stumps, shredded vegetation, and shattered branches. All that remained to indicate there had been people there was some bits of cloth, a piece of metal that looked like part of a rifle, and a hand lying in the dirt.

He rode back to where he had left the man and woman. Slowly the realization of what he had just done started to sink in. He passed by the corpse of the man with the fishing pole. I killed those people, and for what reason? They couldn't hurt me.

"But, the bastards are so cruel, why shouldn't they die," he said to himself.

Tim found the man sobbing over the woman's body. She had endured too much and her will had given out.

*

Tim helped Jake Walters bury his wife of seventeen years. They had been married young, both just seventeen, but had remained together through the good and the bad. Jake said they had talked a lot about growing old together. The dream was gone for Jake. He stood over the small grave a few minutes, turned and walked away. As he sat on the back of the Sky-bike, he started to cry softly.

*

On the trip back to the base Jake conquered his grief somewhat and explained a little about himself. An ex-navy pilot, he and Arty would have plenty to talk about. He had been selling real-estate until the catastrophe. He and his wife, Alice, had tried to make their way out of Mountain Cove, but on day two had run into a band of renegades. Jake explained that he had left a shotgun in his house. It had never crossed his mind he might need it. In a time of difficulty, people got together, didn't they?

"I was so stupid, and it cost me my wife. God, I'm going to miss her. How can I live without her?" he lamented.

Jake's sadness helped Tim forget about his killing, temporarily. It would haunt him in the future, he knew that.

They deserved to die, no doubt about it. The problem is, was it right or wrong for me to administer the justice. I possess great power now, but what am I supposed to do with it? Is it right or wrong to use it, is it right or wrong to even keep it. As he approached the base he was completely confused.

As he reentered the base he came to the conclusion, Right or wrong, good or bad, I have no other choice. There are many people in here depending on me, and they are good people, they have proven that.

"I've just got to make sure Mr. V and what he can do doesn't end up in the wrong hands," he said to himself.

Chapter 11

Clank

As Tim entered the control chamber, Arty's voice boomed out. "Are you ready for the surprise of your life?"

Tim spun around, surprised, because the event with Jake had made him forget all about Arty. Lucky too because had he been involved in making Arty well again he certainly would have taken another direction. There in the middle of the chamber was Arty with a beaming smile. Tim stood in shock, trying to formulate what he was looking at. Arty's head was all that was left of him. It was perched on top of a gleaming, bronze colored, metal cylinder, about two feet in diameter and three feet high, with wicked looking silver colored mechanical arms and blue mechanical hands. The entire contraption floated three feet off the floor.

"What the hell!" Tim exclaimed.

"Do you like it?" Arty asked.

"Arty, for christ sakes, what the hell did you do to yourself?" Tim asked completely exasperated. "Is this a joke or something?"

"It's no joke." Arty sounded hurt.

"Why did Mr. V do this to you?"

"I wanted this," Arty said defensively

"What for? Why not fix your body?"

"It was useless, it had been for a long time," Arty said quietly.

"But making a freak out of yourself? I was hurt too, and I'm pretty sure that I was dead, but I'm the same. Mr. V fixed me up without throwing part of me away," Tim countered.

"Think so?" Arty shot back fast.

"What do you mean by that?" Tim asked, but now he had a defensive tone.

"Do you think you're the same as before?" Arty made it a statement, rather than a question.

"Hell yes, don't you think I'd know if I was—" Tim stopped, now uncertain. "Mr. V, have you been listening to this?"

"I listen to everything, you know that," Mr. V returned.

"Okay, okay, I don't need a history lesson," Tim said impatiently. "How did you fix me?" Tim asked with a slight apprehension in his voice.

"So you would live again," the computer replied.

Tim took a deep breath and looked around, hesitating. "I'm not all real then?" He finally managed to get the question out.

"You're real. The part that makes you Tim is still exactly the same."

"I mean, is my body the same as it was before I got shot?"

"No."

"Oh god!" There was anguish in Tim's voice. "Do you know that I 'murdered', I think, maybe eight people today? I was trying to figure out how I could do something like that, and now you tell me I'm, ah I'm—I've got different parts in me. Is that correct?"

"The parts I used to make you live again had nothing to do with your actions today, or yesterday, or in the days to come. The parts simply perform a function. Your heart and a few critical organs and glands were destroyed by the projectiles. I simply replaced what was destroyed. I did the exact same thing with your brother."

"Why couldn't you repair the old stuff?" Tim whined.

"Not possible."

"What about the body you use sometimes?"

"It looks real, but so did Deputy Dog."

"Oh geez! What next?" Tim turned to Arty. "But why did you have to do this? He could have made a duplicate of your body, correct?"

"Yeah, but I learned to hate my body. It kept me from doing things for so long, I won't miss it." Arty still wanted Tim to understand his decision.

"But you're a freak! People are going to look at you, I can guarantee that. They are not going to treat you normal, I can also guarantee it."

"I'm not interested in being normal," explained Arty. "I haven't been a normal person for years now. I would lay in that bed and dream and dream of being my old self again, like I was before the crash. I thought about it so much at first. For a while it helped, you know, it helped to think about walking again. It gave me hope, and I hoped the doctors would perform a miracle. After a while I knew there would be no miracle, and the dreams didn't do any good anymore. Then I grew to hate my withered body. Can you understand how a person could learn to hate something that caused them so much despair? With this," Arty looked down at his mechanical body, "all my dreams are real, and all my hates are gone."

"Besides, is the world normal anymore?" Arty continued. "Is this what you would refer to as normal?" Arty swung one of his mechanical arms around to indicate where they were.

"No, I guess not, but why no legs?" Tim had conceded.

"They get in the way. I can move five times faster, I'm smaller. My new arms and hands are a lot stronger, quicker, and more precise. Besides, I can switch to a normal appearing body quite easily, if we decide to go out for lunch."

"No, if we go to lunch, I'll just put a leash on you," Tim laughed a little.

"Oh, could you imagine!" Arty laughed.

Arty then went into demonstrating and explaining his new body. All that remained of him was his head and seven vertebrae below the brain stem. The cylinder performed all the functions necessary to keep his brain and head alive. He did not need food, produced no waste, and needed just a little amount of sleep.

It all sounded so good the way Arty explained it all. One thing was bothering Tim though. He remembered when he was dying, the euphoria of a body free state. He voiced his concern to Arty.

Arty tried to convince Tim he could still think normally, but Tim was still not comfortable with the statement.

"Understand, I just wanted you to be like the old Arty again, and I still think this constitutes a freak; an out of this world, flashy tin can, just so you can zip around faster than anyone else, probably invulnerable, and armed to the teeth. Am I right?"

"You need a strong leader."

"Who put you in charge?" Tim asked surprised.

"It would be for the best, I think?" Arty said calmly.

"Hey, wait a short minute here. I've done pretty well so far, besides, Mr. V might have something to say about this?"

"He thinks it's for the best too," Arty countered quickly.

"You've conferred with him on this, then?" Tim was angry; the tone of his voice indicated it.

"Yes, a bit. Look, Tim, I have more leadership experience, and we think it would be for the best."

"You think!" Now Tim sounded really annoyed. "The best for what, or rather for who? What the hell's going on Arty?"

"I don't get your meaning?" Arty was trying to calm Tim.

"In less than one month my whole world has disappeared. Mom's dead, our house is gone, all the people I knew, gone, except for you and Ann. People are killing each other for sport." Tim paused, and took a deep breath. "Do you know what happened to Ann? If you could have been there and saw what one human can do to the other." The vision was clear to Tim. He let out a sigh and paused to regain his thoughts. "Arty, do you know how many people I've killed since all this started?" He was now calmer and the question came out strong and unhurried.

"You did what you had to," Arty commented.

"Did I?"

"Yes, to get this far, you had to."

"But, why did I 'have' to?"

"What was the reason you killed the first time?" Arty asked.

Tim though about it carefully, wanting to be totally honest. "To save Ann, I guess."

"Wasn't that a good reason? If you hadn't, what would have happened to her?"

"What's become of her anyway? She's not the same person. I get the feeling she resents me for helping," Tim lamented.

"For the time being you'll have to accept the fact she's trying to forget the horrors, and you just remind her of them."

"I do not; I never say a word about anything that's happened."

"Your presence is reminder enough. Give her time, and the scars will heal. Every person that goes through something like she has, has an adjustment to make. The trauma has changed their lives. What they were accustomed to has been broken, severely, and often violently. Things that were enjoyable and comfortable are taken away. That's the difficulty in adjusting. You, me, Ann, and everyone else in this refuge have been thrown into a totally new situation with nothing of the past to hang on to. It will take time; look how well you're doing."

"If I'm doing so well, how come the big spiel, and why do you think you need to take charge?" Tim asked with a snooty tone.

"This is not a pep talk, just the facts. No one could have done any better, believe me. And I don't need to take charge because you can handle the situation very well, you've proved that. It's just that, number one: I have more leadership experience, and two, you should concentrate on some important things, like Ann, and being a kid just a little bit longer, and three, I don't have anything else to do. In all the years I was a non-person, I never established any relationships. I am basically alone, you're not. You don't want to be like me," Arty explained. "Incidentally, I'm extremely proud of you."

"I guess I've held up pretty well. It's just the future scares me. Realizing that I won't be able to continue from where I left off. When the ground was shaking and I was bouncing around it was a thrill. I was scared, but I told myself, 'when it's over, no sweat', but now I realize that it will never be over. It has come too far."

"It may go a lot farther," Arty stated.

"What do you mean?"

"I know Mr. V has informed you there is a major geological shift underway. This thing is far from over, and I'm better prepared to make decisions. You know that Tim."

"I don't want to discuss it now, okay?"

Tim had an uneasy feeling about what was in store. As he walked to the living quarters he thought about the command sequence Mr. V had explained to him. He was tempted to talk to Mr. V, but decided not to. It could wait because there was no rush. It pissed him off that Arty had decided, on his own, to supersede him.

If it hadn't been for me, Arty would be dead! The thought startled him. He had been so excited about helping Arty, but now he was mad at him. Things were very confusing. The killing of the people today was still troubling him because he had gone on a rampage. I could have just scared them off, but they would have hurt someone else, so I had to kill them, didn't I? Yes, no? Shit!" he exclaimed to himself. "Now Arty has to go and do this weird shit."

*

Tim entered the living quarters and stood back in surprise. The new inhabitants had transformed it into a home. A large table floated in the middle of the space with the children all gathered around playing a game. Numerous couch and chair like objects were strategically arranged. Many plants and small trees in large pots were situated around the quarters breaking up the monotony. It looked good. The adults were seated all around, and looked content.

After all the hassles of the past weeks, this certainly must be pleasant for them.

Sims saw Tim, and got up to greet him.

"What do you think?" Sims asked.

"How did you manage all this? I'm the only one that has access to the computer. I hope you didn't take the liberty of—"

"I did it." Arty had just entered the living quarters behind him.

"Oh, that's okay then," Tim said sarcastically and then headed over to the counsel to produce a beer.

Tim watched the children rush to Arty. They surrounded him, jumping with glee. Arty took them two at a time in his mechanical arms and gave them fast rides around the quarters.

After he had taken all the children for rides he floated over to Tim.

"A little young for that," Arty commented to Tim.

"Arty, I'm forty already," Tim replied.

"Sixteen to forty in just weeks. I guess that's reason enough to drink a little. About the computer—" Arty wanted to explain.

"Hey, no sweat, just make yourself at home," Tim snapped.

"Look, if you want to stay here and tend to the needs of your charges, fine, but what if something happens to you on one of your little escapades? I suppose it's okay to leave everyone to starve," Arty said sternly.

"That's not what I mean!" Tim looked directly at Arty as he spoke.

"What's troubling you then?" Arty asked while picking up a small child that had walked up to him.

"Arty, I don't know these people. The wrong person gets into that computer?" Tim said it as a supposition. "It's dangerous, I'm sure you realize that!"

"I do, and maybe I am the wrong person. Is that your problem?" Arty said not looking at Tim, but playing with the child.

"Well, it's too late to worry about it now!"

Arty looked directly at Tim. "So it is Little Brother, so it is."

Tim spotted Margie headed his way. "Oh, oh, here comes trouble," Tim said, thankful for the distraction because Arty's smug comment had upset him, but he didn't want him to know it. Margie was definitely zeroing in on him. The way she was dressed and the way she was walking it looked as if she was interested in more than just talk.

Arty was watching her as she approached and commented to Tim. "Drinking and now this, what's happening to you?"

"You mean, what's going to happen to me, don't you?" Tim said jokingly and he raised his eyebrows.

"It might be good for you. Make you forget your problems, make you ease up a little." Arty said kindly.

"Hi Hero." Margie's voice was cheery. She nuzzled up to Tim and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.

"How's it going Clank?" she said to Arty. Tim looked quickly at Arty for a reaction and saw nothing but a solid smile.

"Careful with the beer, Hero Baby, we've got a lot of exploring to do. You promised to show me this place and there's no better time than the present." She pressed tight against him, and he could feel the curves of her body.

"What would Mom say?" Arty said with a smile as he turned away.

*

Tim was in the control room the next morning. He had been aware of many tremors during the night and they were almost continual the last hour or so. The base's monitor had registered well over six hundred in the last twelve hours. He was searching a hologram for some answers to what was happening on the outside.

"Checking the morning news?" Arty had entered.

"Sure lots of shaking going out on there," Tim said.

"I'm afraid it's a lot worse than that, the fault is pulling apart. The Pacific plate is pulling away from the North American plate," Arty said factually.

"Mr. V said that might happen, but I was under the impression it would be sometime yet," Tim said.

"It seems to be underway right now. There's no way to predict something like that. Even Mr. V can be surprised," Arty said. "But, I'm the one that's really surprised.

"Why's that?" Tim asked.

"I thought those sort of things happened over millions and millions of years, but according to Mr. V, the area is splitting in half, and Mountain Cove is moving northward at two hundred feet an hour."

"Yeah, Mr. V told me about it. He called it gradual and catastrophic geology. According to him, the Rocky Mountains were formed in a matter of weeks. The Earth sits fairly stable for long periods while the stress builds up, then wham, one event weakens everything and the crust becomes unstable. It's happened many times before; there was just no one around to bitch about it."

"Except Mr. V," Arty added, "but he has nothing to worry about, he says this place is safe no matter what happens."

"Say you know I haven't talked to him today. He's probably wondering why." Tim was curious about what Arty had been up to so the uneasy feeling would not go away.

Arty said nothing; he was engrossed in something in a complicated hologram he had produced. It was time to go to the Secret Place Tim decided. I've been kind of apprehensive about the molecular dissimulation thing so I've been putting it off. I'm not scared, but the thought of my body being broken into little pieces and then transported someplace is a little unsettling, but now I need privacy and the Number One thing seems perfect.

"Yo, Mr. V, Tim here, haven't talked to you in a while."

"You're much too busy for old friends."

"Not really busy, I'm just trying to figure out a few things."

"Good for you. Taking care of yourself is important. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, I want to go home."

"Ah yes, you do qualify."

Tim felt a sudden buzzing in his entire body, then his vision started to blur and his ears started ringing. In a matter of two-seconds his entire surroundings were blotted out. He remained in this state for about five more seconds and then the process reversed itself.

*

"Where am I? Mr. V, you still here?" he asked as he looked around at his new surroundings. He was standing in a white void.

"Shit, I knew it! Goddamn, the thing screwed up," Tim jabbered to himself. "Mr. Vhhhheeee!" Tim yelled.

"Et ze atek utalir on mitizeke dugl suf," a strange voice said.

Tim was startled by the voice, but just because he wasn't expecting this strange tongue. The speech was not harsh, but in an unfamiliar tone and form. It had the sound of someone talking from the back of their nose and the form was short and blocky.

"Huh?" was his only comment.

"Et zebel duglde sok."

"I don't understand you." Tim responded. "Who are you?"

"I lp sobol tur tu et."

"Helloooo, my name is 'Tim', do you understand me?" I hope that's not a stupid question. "I am 'Tim'."

"I gadteko set do 'Tim'." The new voice emphasized Tim, so there was some recognition there.

"Yeah, I 'Tim'."

"Desligt, I 'Et'."

"Yes, I 'Tim', you 'Et'." Tim was proud of himself, it registered in his voice.

"Tim cadalsees da ca to."

"I don't understand."

"Tim cadalsees."

"I don't know, ahum, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody would be here. Mr. V, he sent me here."

"Tosouk Mr. V."

I'm sure that was a question. "Mr. V, he runs this place. He's the central computer. I was supposed to come to the 'Number One's' place." Tim held up one finger.

"Hadtickta, Number One." As the voice spoke, a large straight line appeared in front of Tim in the fabric of the white surrounding him.

"Yeah, that's a one."

"Aytus hu." Another line appeared next to the first one.

"Yeah, that's two." Tim pointed to the second line. They were so close together he wasn't sure if he had made an impression.

The second line disappeared. "Number One"!" the voice stated.

"Yeah, yeah, hot damn, we're getting someplace now. I'm 'Number One'!" Tim said excitedly as he pointed to himself with one finger. Then he held the finger up and repeated, "'Number One'! I 'Tim', I 'Number One'."

"Tassaas 'Tim', Gadseesa fot dit to Et. Tim 'Number One', I Et."

"Ooooh boy!" Tim said out of frustration. "This is going to be a long one, I can see it coming."

The voice didn't return for half a minute or so. Tim didn't know what else to do so he just silently waited.

"Number One—youll—aret," the voice said finally. There were long hesitations between the crudely formed words.

"Yeah, I'm 'Number One'."

"Yo arrrre Tim, you arre to 'Number One'. It corrrreck." The words were a little clearer and quicker.

"Well, we're getting closer here, I think?" Tim said loudly. Maybe the molecular scattering thing really did work? Tim thought at the same time.

"You are the 'Number One'. Dex twi whdat."

"Yes, I'm 'Number One', the rest I don't understand."

"I co by foc 'Number One'."

"Who are you?" Tim said loudly because he was getting frustrated.

"Iya computa Number One. N—I—cea meeeete you Number One. I am Et. I am commmputerrr for Tim. You are Tim, you are 'Number One'."

It sounds like someone just getting the hang of a strange language.

"Okay, yeah, we've already gone over some of that, and ah, you are a computer, is that right?"

"I aamm ccoommpuuteer yes." The pronunciation was almost perfect, but it was slow and deliberate.

"And you're supposed to be the computer for the 'Number One'?"

"Yeess. You are the neew 'Number One'?"

"Yup, that's me." Tim let out a big sigh of relief. "Where the hell am I?"

"This is the place of the Number One." The new computer spoke slow and deliberate.

"This is it?" Tim said with a squawk in his voice.

"There is a new language present." The vocabulary was correct, but the form was still blocky.

"Yeah, it's the only one I know."

"Is that possible?" the speech, and construction of the words were getting smoother.

"Yeah, I'm just a dumb kid."

"You are the new 'Number One'?"

I think that was a question.

"Yeah, and I'll bet you're surprised," Tim snickered.

"I don't understand surprise. Can you—"

"Can I what?"

"Wait," the new voice said.

"Yeah, I guess, what are you doing?"

There was nothing for ten-seconds.

"I am still accessing the main computer. Please wait." The new computer was getting the language real fast.

Tim didn't say anything, he just waited as instructed.

"I am ready to talk to you now. I understand most of your language now."

"Hot-damn! Boy, I was wondering for a while there. I didn't think I had gone to the right place. This isn't much though."

"This is the place of the 'Number One'; this is where you wanted to go."

"Yeah, but I expected a little more than this. This is like being in a damn blizzard.

"It is not satisfactory?"

"Uh, I don't want to sound critical, but the old Number One sure didn't have much of an imagination," Tim said as he turned all the way around, surveying the entire scene.

"The Number One did not keep it like this."

"Oh damn, I get it; this is just the jumping off place, or something. Phew, what a relief. I'm looking for the Secret Place."

"This is it."

"Here we go again," Tim said frustrated. "What did the Number Ones do to this place, to make it livable?"

"I don't know."

Tim just dropped his head and shook it slowly. "And how come you don't know? I thought you were his computer?"

"Yes, I was, and I am yours now."

"Well, then, how come you don't know anything?"

"Because, I have no memory of any of the others," the computer stated.

"What?" Tim exclaimed. "How come?"

"I do not record a Number One. When a Number One leaves, my memory banks are cleared.

"Oh, and what have you been doing the last three million years?" Tim asked cynically with a snicker.

"I have no concept of time."

"Well, let's just forget that one, shall we? Do you have a name?"

"Yes, I am the computer of the Num—"

"Whoa, hold it, hold it right there. You don't have a name?"

"Not like you do."

"What was the Et thing?"

"It would be difficult to explain, the Sooaunt language is not structured anything like yours. A location might be the closest explanation."

"So big deal, you are Et, is that okay?"

"Like Mr. V," Et returned.

"Yeah, do you guys know each other?"

"Yes, we communicated frequently, but not for the last three million years."

"I thought you didn't have any concept of time?"

"I do not."

"But, you just said you hadn't spoken to Mr. V for three million years."

"That is what you said."

"Oh, yeah, right, whatever. I don't need to go into that right now, okay? I want to know where the hell I am?"

"This is the place of the Number One."

"I know that, but where is it?"

"I don't know."

"I can't go for that," Tim said quickly.

"Let me explain. You were told about the command sequence, and about Number One's privileges, the complete secrecy?"

"Yeah."

"Number One can communicate with me in a place that is completely secret. This is that place. Whatever you and I discuss here, stays here. I am an extension of the central computer, Mr. V, but the extension is one way. Information can come in, but nothing goes out, understand."

"Yeah, I already knew that, but you and Mr. V brought me here so you must know where it is."

"You came yourself. I'm always here, and he's always there, so I don't go back and forth, so I don't have to know where this is, because I am always here."

"That makes sense, sure enough does," Tim laughed. "Does it have a name?"

"No."

"Okay, how do you say, 'secret place', in Sooaunts?

"Donnart-Ele-Io."

"I like it!" Tim exclaimed. "Now, how do I get back, is my next question?"

"As simple as you came here. For now, why don't you just enjoy your new place?"

"But, there's nothing here," Tim complained.

"It's up to you to create what you want."

"Ah, now I get it. But I have no idea what I want right now, can I wait?"

"Yes, of course."

"Does Arty know where I am?"

"No, but he is looking. It will do him no good though; this is truly a secret place."

"Ha, at least now he'll think about just taking over so easily."

"Is he not your brother, and why are you annoyed with his actions?"

"I'm not sure; maybe I'm just over reacting."

"Don't worry about, it will all work out. There are many new things for you to sort out," Et instructed.

"What do you know about me?" Tim was curious about the computer links.

"Everything Mr. V knows."

"That quick?"

"I accessed his memory banks, that is my job."

"I wish I could get at information that quick."

"You can," Et said.

"Oh, I forget so fast."

"That is not true."

"There's so much I don't know, and so much I can't remember," Tim joked.

"Tim, every moment of your life, in every detail, is stored in your brain."

"Everything, every detail?"

"The human brain can store immense amounts of information."

"I can't remember everything, that's impossible."

"It's there. You just don't know how to find it when you want it, that's all. But, I guarantee you, it's there."

"How could I remember everything I wanted to, when I wanted to?"

"I could help you."

"How?"

"I can catalogue all your memories."

"All of them?"

"Well, it would be difficult to pick and choose."

"How would you go about it?"

"I simply have to have access all your thoughts."

"But then you would know everything, even what I was thinking at the moment." Tim sounded unsure of the conversation.

"That is correct."

"Ah, I'm not ready for that," Tim stated, remembering how uncomfortable he had been when Mr. V could read his thoughts.

"Yes, I understand. Why don't you get busy creating a place for yourself here, so you can be comfortable?"

"I don't know what I'd like."

"If you're not happy with what you decide, you can change it at any time."

"Ah, I'm not into it right now so let me think about it."

"It's not going to be much fun standing here in the middle of nothing. What do you want to do?"

"I want to go back. I was just curious about the molecular thing-a-ma-jig, and to see if the place really existed."

*

The dissimilating sequence started the same as before and when he rematerialized back in the control chamber, he was surprised to see Arty still there. Arty was watching a hologram with a news cast from a TV station, summarizing what was going on Internationally.

"Back so soon," Arty said.

"I wasn't too impressed."

Arty went back to watching the TV broadcast.

Tim watched also. Major geological disruptions were occurring all over the globe. Transportation and supply was in chaos, and many political upheavals were underway. It appeared anarchy was the mode of the day.

"I can't believe it," Tim said with a sound of disgust in his voice.

"Can't believe what?" Arty returned.

"Oh this shit!" Tim pointed to the TV telecast. "The world is in real trouble, and so many people are trying to take advantage of the situation. It really pisses me off. You'd think everyone would be smart enough to band together."

"Oh Timmy, so young, and so innocent," Arty kind of laughed as he made the statement.

"Well, dammit Arty, I know what you're going to say, and I suppose, 'no', I know that you'd be right.

I don't know why the innocent comment set me off because I don't feel innocent after my recent rampage.

"Look, I know you'd like it to be different, but people behave like people. Some are good, and some are bad. It's as simple as that. Besides, there are too many people anyway."

"What are you saying?" Tim sounded annoyed.

"In my opinion, all this may be for the best," Arty said in a flat tone.

"Arty for Christ sakes, do you know what you just said?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of my last statement, but I believe the world has come to a point where there are just too many people. I don't think the Earth is capable of supporting any more, or even the numbers we have now."

"Geez Arty, you sound like you think this is just what we all needed."

"Quite possibly. Look at before the catastrophe, thirty-million people a year starving to death. Another four-billion live worse than dogs. I hate the thought of all the suffering out there. The point is that the survivors, and there will be survivors, will have a chance to make a much better world. The way I see it, millions and millions were going to die anyway," Arty continued. "Now it's going to be quick and merciful."

"What if we're the only survivors? This little band here, safe and sound."

"Then it will be up to us to continue."

"How grand for us!" Tim snapped.

"Look, just stop being so skeptical, will you. The only thing you can do is let things run their course, and if you happen to be in a good position, take advantage of it. You should be thankful, and not so be critical," Arty lectured.

"I guess you're right, but the worse things get out there the more we're isolated. I just hate the thought of being stuck in here while everything out there unravels."

"You're not stuck in here. You can go anytime you please. Where did you go just now? You faded out and disappeared. You left Timtown, I know you did."

"How do you know I left?" Tim asked curiously.

"Because you weren't in here anymore. I do know how to ask Mr. V a simple question, and he says, 'you left the base'. You went to a secret place. He says he doesn't know where it is either, but I can't quit believe that."

"It's the truth, I don't even know where it is," Tim said smartly.

"The place of the 'Number One'," Arty said with a curious tone in his voice. "It is an interesting concept they had. I wish I could see this place."

"That's not possible, I'm the only person that can be transported there," Tim said smugly.

"I know that too, but, as I said, you can go whenever you like, so I don't see why you should be complaining? If you get sick of it in here take your Sky-bike and take a trip. It's got unlimited range."

"Yeah, and I'll end up fighting it out with the bad guys, just to save a few retched souls."

"You're the one that's so worried about them. Besides, it's a good deed; it might get you into Heaven."

"I don't know if you've talked to Mr. V about that, but he doesn't think there is a Heaven."

"Well, you just keep it to yourself because most people wouldn't be so calm about that. I'm surprised you are?" Arty said.

"I haven't really thought about it much, but I guess when I'm gone, I'm gone. I can be comfortable with that."

Chapter 12

TT. Fighter

Arty had left a message with Mr. V that he wanted Tim to meet him in one of the upper level chambers. The computer directed Tim to the location, and when he entered he saw an object being constructed by numerous small robots similar to Arty, but without the human head. They were all robot. Arty was there.

"What is it?" Tim asked as he looked at what was being built.

"Some transportation," Arty responded.

Tim walked up to the object and took a closer look. The machine appeared to be a rectangular box: eight feet long, six feet wide, and three feet deep. On the front of the box another piece drew together to form a flat slender half cone. Inside the box many thin tubes ended in clusters in many places all through the box. Tim looked into one of the tubes and saw it wasn't hollow, but filled with a transparent substance.

"What are these for?" Tim asked.

"It's a type of advanced fiber optics, a replacement for wires. It's the control system," Arty commented over his mechanical shoulder.

Tim shook his head in recognition. He walked slowly around the object trying to figure out what Arty was making. Suddenly it dawned on him, 'because', what else would Arty make? "An airplane!" Tim said loudly.

"Not just an airplane," Arty stated as he turned to face Tim. "The most advanced plane to fly the skies since Mr. V's people left. Here look." A hologram of the plane popped into existence right in front of Tim.

It was a radical looking thing. The image rotated in a spherical axis, showing every angle possible.

"Arty, I don't know too much about planes so what am I looking at here?"

"A dream comes true."

"It does look like it was part of someone's dream," Tim commented as he watched the image rotate. It was a really sinister looking thing, but it was beautiful also. It had fairly large rounded wings, but they were short, extending no more than six or seven feet out from the main body. It was difficult to tell where the body quit and the wings started because every part of the plane was blended. The wings were situated far back on the fuselage. Two rudders angled out at a forty-five degree angle and were attached to the body right where the engines and wings connected.

The first box he had looked at, the one already under construction, was the main fuselage where the engines were located. This left the engines three feet apart. The front of the box was the cockpit and the cone shaped part was the nose of the craft. The cockpit was slightly forward of two large air intakes for the engines. The cone in front had a flat ridge running back from just behind the point along both sides to connect to small wings that angled down. Tim asked Arty about them and he said they were called canards.

When the plane was completed it would be sleek and aerodynamic. The cockpit and the engines were the thickest part of the plane, the rest being thin. It almost looked fragile, but Tim knew that was deceptive. He walked over to the box being assembled and looked inside. The pilot would be close to laying back horizontal.

"Holy shit Arty, how fast will this thing go?" Tim asked.

"I figure about five-thousand per."

"Miles-per-hour! You've got to be kidding? Wow! That's fast enough, I imagine," Tim said as he shook his head up and down in agreement.

"It will make for some good trips. Not too much room for a suitcase and golf clubs, though," Arty added.

"Arty, not too many places are going to give you a room or a tee time, anyway," Tim shot back.

"Probably true. Anyway, the TT Fighter when completed will weigh about seven-thousand pounds with pilot and fuel, and the—"

"TT Fighter?" Tim interrupted.

"Yes, Timtown."

"But why fighter?" Tim asked with his head cocked to the side.

"Come on Tim, it's certainly not a commercial plane, and as we both joked earlier, it can't carry anything but a pilot, so what would you have me call it, huh?"

"I just don't like the fighter thing about it."

"There you go again. What 'is' your problem? It is a hell hole out there. Do you want me to go flying in a Piper Cub? What do you think my chances would be on returning? You saw the news?"

"Is it armed?"

"Ah, ha. It doesn't need to be armed. As I was explaining, before you interrupted, the TT 'Airplane' will weight seven-thousand pounds, and each engine will produce fifty-thousand pounds of thrust."

"What kind of ride does that mean?"

"Well, fighters are rated by what they weight to the pounds of thrust ratios. The best today are about one to one, so figure it out."

"Ooooh, wait, hum. . . how much does it weight?"

"Seven-thousand pounds."

"And the engines?"

"Two engines, at fifty-thousand each. Figure it out."

A quick calculation of Arty's figures and Tim whistled. "About one to fourteen," he said almost holding his breath.

"Smart kid," said Arty.

"I only see room for one," Tim sounded disappointed. "I sure wouldn't mind a ride when you're done."

"As soon as this one is done, another one will be built for you."

"I don't know how to fly, are you nuts?" Tim laughed.

"You can learn, quickly. Please follow me," Arty commanded as he turned and headed toward the other side of the chamber. Arty led Tim into another smaller chamber.

*

"This is a simulator I had made to practice on. The TT Fighter is going to be a lot different from what I'm used to. Thanks to Mr. V, many things about airplanes I always thought could work, now will. This will completely duplicate the controls and actions of the one I'm making. Get in."

*

The simulator was the fighter canopy attached to a rectangular box underneath it. The apparatus sat in a depression in the floor of the chamber. Tim looked in between the simulator and the edge of the chamber floor. It appeared the simulator was floating in the cavity. There was a soft click as Arty spoke and the clear canopy swung up from the back. The canopy hinged halfway to vertical and stopped. Tim stepped over and then slid into the simulator's cockpit. Arty pushed a green spot on the glowing panel in front of Tim and said, "Have fun."

Within an hour, thanks to a tutorial hologram, Tim had a fairly good idea what flying was all about. He knew all the controls and what to do and when. He wasn't so sure he would remember it all, but he could return to the simulator anytime he wanted.

*

He returned to the construction area and watched one of the wings being mounted on the plane. Arty was busy at a hologram, so Tim didn't bother him. He watched Arty with both pride and concern. Where was this all going to take them? Was he looking at the new 'Master of the World'? He had read the Jules Vern's story, but had never imagined that he might ever live it. What did Arty have in mind for the planes?

"Arty, how come you've never asked me about Mom?" Tim finally decided to try to get some answers.

"Who?" Arty was not really listening, anyway Tim hoped that was the case.

"Mom, our mother, you do remember her?" asked Tim again, this time sharply.

"I don't think so," Arty continued to work feverishly, "I don't think about those things anymore. They're not important."

"She was your mother, and you don't even care about what happened to her?"

"I can see if I don't want to hear any more about this subject, I'd better listen now," Arty said quietly as he turned to face Tim.

"Real considerate of you," Tim sneered.

"Just forgo the lecture and tell me, what happened to Mom?" Arty said as he turned back and continued to work.

"Do you know how much she loved you Arty? Do you know how much she suffered, how much your being hurt affected her?"

"I'm sorry about that Tim, but it was neither my fault, or is there anything that can be done. If I remember correctly, you said she's dead."

"Yes, she's dead. Don't you want to know how? Aren't you even curious about her?"

"What is there to know that would be important anymore?"

"Don't you have any emotions left? Isn't there anything you think about?"

"The present, the future, I concentrate on what I'm doing mostly. You know, you should spend more of your energy like that."

"It's not that easy for me to forget everything. I guess maybe my memories are more pleasant than yours."

"Was it fun for you, before all this happened?" Arty asked seriously.

"Some fun, yeah. Some things were tough though, but, yeah, I was enjoying myself. A hell of a lot better than this shit, that's for sure."

"You don't consider this fun then?" Arty said with a questioning tone.

"No Arty, I don't, but, then again, I'm probably just not used to it." Tim spoke in a sarcastic tone. He stood looking at Arty for a few moments, watching him work.

"Hey, remember before you went into the service, when we lived in Montana?"

"Of course I remember." Arty continued to work.

"What do you remember?"

"Are you testing me?" Arty sounded annoyed.

"No Arty, I'm just trying to relive some of the good times we had. You used to hunt a lot, and sometimes you'd take me along. I thought I was a real hot shot. None of my friends had a big brother that took them along so I thought I was really somebody. And when we went skiing, do you remember that?"

"Yes."

Tim couldn't figure out if Arty was just wrapped up in what he was doing, or if he really didn't remember the past.

"This plane you're building. Does it have any similarities to the old one you used to fly? What was that one anyway?"

"It's not important."

Tim pondered what had just happened. He had tested Arty on some things he should have remembered. Was it because Arty just didn't remember because he had been out of touch for some time, or was it that this aberration claiming to be Arty, didn't know?"

"Hey Arty, when you get this thing done, you going to just throw it out the window?" Tim said changing directions.

"Sort of."

"Well, it's not going to fit through the entrance," Tim commented.

Tim waited, but Arty said nothing. Then it struck Tim; the base would have a larger entrance for the original inhabitants to come and go with their vehicles. They had been accomplished at deep space travel which certainly would require some large machines. Tim figured such an opening would be close by.

*

Tim left Arty at his work and did a little exploring. Below where the plane was being constructed Tim found three large warehouses with carefully catalogue bins. He didn't recognize any of the material, or objects, except some of the fiber optics material.

He could hear a rumbling to the right and he followed the sound to another location. Half a dozen of the small robots were at work there. Tim watched one take a rectangular piece of black material and feed it into an opening in an apparatus. After some sizzling and flashing a different looking piece of the same black material reappeared. It had been altered into a piece for Arty's plane. The robot took the piece and headed for the construction area. Tim spotted a piece of the black material and lifted it. He had anticipated it would weight a lot more than it really did. It was hard and smooth to the touch. Tim took another small piece of the material and banged the two together. As hard as he could hit them he could cause no apparent damage and the sound of them coming together was an insubstantial tick.

Tim found another location and watched another piece actually grow. From a small spot the part gradually added shape and form right before his eyes. He asked Mr. V and the computer told him, "Carbon will self-construct according to instructions. This allows for incredibly small and, or, precise pieces and tolerances.

He worked his way to above where the plane was being made and located what he was looking for. It was a Space Port for sure. The Port stretched out to the sides for a considerable distance. To the front, the chamber disappeared into the darkness. Tim walked down the smooth surface into the dark. He was counting paces as he went and at three hundred he came to the end. A dark wall blocked his way, but Tim knew past that barrier was the outside world.

*

Tim stood at the edge of the forest. Apparently Ann had taken up residence in there someplace. Tim had not talked to her in some time, and Sims and the others had seen her only once when she had come to get some food. Margie had accompanied her back to the forest where Ann had declined any farther company and had disappeared into the vastness, alone.

Tim walked among the trees until he came upon the stream flowing toward the deeper part of the forest. The stream reminded him of Wisconsin, the water bubbling and rushing over and between rocks covered with moss.

There were the customary insects now, maybe an addition for Ann's benefit? Tim figured they were fake because he spotted many mosquitos and they weren't biting him as was their customary behavior.

The stream emerged from the thick trees and underbrush to flow into the large pond. It is hard to believe it isn't all real, Tim thought as he stood looking out over the pond. A breeze stirred the leaves of the large tree he was standing under. The same puff of air sent small ripples across the smooth surface of the pond. He could see fish congregating under a fallen log, something else new. The log had its one end resting on the bank and its other end under the water.

Tim spent a few minutes trying to lure one of the fish into range with his finger, to try to capture it, but it wouldn't cooperate. He wanted to inspect the creature close up, to see if it really was a machine or not. Mr. V sure had done a perfect job, except for the sky which had no Sun or clouds. But, Mr. V had done pretty well there too. There were intermittent patches of shade, to simulate clouds passing overhead, and even rain fell for a couple of minutes.

Tim followed the edge of the small lake and when he had circled almost to the far side, he spotted a tent erected beneath a large tree, sitting back from the water's edge. Between the tree and the water was a broad band of sand with large boulders sitting half in the sand and half in the water.

"Leave it to Ann, to find the best of all places," he said to himself.

The tent was empty, but he could see she had been there recently. He climbed onto one of the rocks and stripped down to his shorts. With a loud whoop he dove into the water. He dove down under the surface and could see the bottom six feet down. It was covered in spots with swaying weeds, and in spots with a many colored gravel. He continued to swim, thoroughly enjoying himself. Here was a place he could lose all his cares. Suddenly he felt lucky. It might not be so bad after all. He still had his brother; he still had his best friend, and a place to call home.

After the swim, he waited by the pond for a couple of hours before Ann finally appeared. She walked out of the trees and on to the beach.

"Hi," was all she said.

"I was wondering when you'd come back?" said Tim.

"I've been here all the time," she returned.

"Why didn't you want to see me?" Tim asked apprehensively.

"Because I didn't want to," she stated flatly.

"Why did you come out then?" Tim snapped.

"Because, I got tired of waiting for you to leave." There was no emotion to anything she said.

"I just wanted to talk." Tim tried to sound friendlier.

"I don't." Ann was abrupt.

"Ann, you've got to talk to someone," Tim pleaded.

"Maybe, maybe not, but certainly not now, and not with you. Will you please leave. This is my place," Ann commanded.

"I'm your friend, maybe I can help."

"How!" It was more of a statement than a question.

"I don't know, but let me try."

"I don't need your help here. If I decide to go outside, I'll make sure I let you know, so you can protect me from harm," she said with a sneer.

"What's eating you anyway?" Tim whined.

"Nothing Tim, nothing at all. Now go away!" she shouted at him.

"Thanks a lot. I'm trying to make the best of this thing, and you won't even talk to me," Tim half shouted back.

"I don't know why you need to waste my time, you've got lots of things to occupy yours," Ann said calmly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tim sounded hurt.

"Meaning, how's your new girlfriend, 'Hero Baby'?"

"Oh that," was all he could come up with.

"Look Tim, just so I wouldn't have to see you, I wish I was someplace else."

"Thanks, that makes me feel real good. Thanks a lot!" Tim shouted at her.

"Hey too bad. You're the one that keeps pestering me. You can't understand, so just leave me alone!" she shouted back.

"I can understand. I know you've gone through a lot. Don't you think that maybe I'm a little confused also. Don't you think that I—"

"Oh shut the fuck up," Ann interrupted. "You've had it real rough, haven't you? Do you know why I spend as little time as possible with you, or your servants?"

"Servants?"

"Yeah servants. Oh, Tim this, and oh, Tim that. Timtown, for Christ sakes. How disgusting," Ann almost spit the last words out.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea."

"Timtown! I can't believe that's what all those fools call this place, and Margie darling is just setting you up," Ann said laughing.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You've forgotten what a setup is? Oh Timmy, this hero bullshit's really got you distracted," Ann laughed again.

"Is that what's bugging you? I didn't ask for this, you know."

"Ah, but you sure took over quick, stepped right in," Ann said with force.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I have saved a few lives, you know."

"And, taken a few also, I've heard."

"Look, if you can't appreciate what's going on here, I'm sorry, but it's the best we've got. All the people in here have had it rough, but I don't see them whining," Tim said bluntly.

"I wish you would leave, I'd like to 'whine' alone."

"Okay, but remember, you're not the only one who has some adjusting to do. You're not alone," Tim scolded.

"Oh I am, yes I am. That bastard, what he did to my family, you couldn't possibly understand. Noooooo way!" Ann expression was almost insane, and the words were thrown out with venom. "I'm going to get even. I won't forget, ever!" she screamed at him.

I guess she doesn't remember Susan putting the gun in her hand and what had happened after that. I wonder if I should bring it up. No maybe sometime, but not now.

"When you get tired of the solitude, look me up, because I've had my share of hardships too. Mainly my best friend doesn't seem to remember me."

"Whatever we may have been Timmy, it's not the same anymore, is it?" Ann returned emotionless.

"Obviously not, obviously not."

Ann didn't say anything, just turned and walked away.

"See you later," said Tim.

She didn't answer.

"If it is any consolation, Tony's dead," Tim shouted at her back.

She just kept walking, so Tim turned and walked in the other direction.

*

A small hawk crawled out of a crevice in the rocks at the bottom of the Walls, two pools down from the entrance to Timtown. The bird walked clumsily into the sunlight on the far side of the pool, spread its wings and flapped them a few times. It then jumped into the air and rose up out of the steep canyon. When it was above the top of the Walls, it circled twice, and then set off to the East.

Chapter 13

The Flight

In the next week, Tim spent most of his time in the simulator. As Arty's plane neared completion, Tim became more and more obsessed with learning how to fly, and had in his own mind became proficient. He was becoming increasingly restless inside the base. A couple of times he had taken rides on the Sky-bike, but all the time he was outside riding he kept thinking about the plane, the TT Fighter.

Not only had he become proficient in the operation of the plane, but Tim was now an expert on its design and construction. It was the exotic materials that made the plane's phenomenal performance possible. Materials like its carbon-carbon-silk body and wings. This material was carbon nano tubes, carbon cylinders one molecule thick, bonded with synthetic spider's silk. This was the black material he had banged together the first time he saw the plane. This material was one-seventh the weight of aluminum, and twelve times as hard. It was also much less brittle, and had a melting point much higher than any metal.

The hot engine parts were made with ceramic-titanium because ceramics had an even higher melting point. Hydrocarbon-molecules were grown into hoses, mounting points, tires, and anything that needed to be flexible, and were indestructible. All control surfaces and any movable parts of the machine were powered by synthetic muscles. They were more precise, more powerful, and much quicker than anything mechanical. They were extremely light weight, and required little power. Any electrical conduits were handled by Aluminum-boron-silicates, super conducting wires thinner than human hair. All through the plane the parts were constructed from exotic materials, the most prevalent turned out to be synthetic spider silk: aluminum-silk, carbon-silk, titanium-silk, magnesium-silk, protein-silk, and just good old silk.

The engines were incredibly powerful for their size because of advanced design, tolerances, and the efficient combustion of hydrogen. As an example, the hydrogen was injected into the combustion chambers at a pressure of seven-thousand pounds per-square-inch. The compressor forced air into the same chambers at six-thousand pounds. Arty said these numbers were at least ten times what the current jet engines operated at. This was possible because of the extreme tolerances between the rotating and stationary parts, and the light weight of everything that was moving. A standard jet engine operated at thirty-thousand revolutions per minute, max, the TT Fighter engines wound up to one-hundred-thousand.

*

Tim had gone into the forest three times, but each time had been fruitless. He just sat by the water waiting, but Ann never showed up. The second time he had left a note, but when he returned the note was still there, unread as far as he could tell. On his way back he thought he saw someone ahead of him, walking in the shadows along the stream, but when he went to investigate he found no tracks in the sand.

Life in the base was settling into a somewhat normal pace. Sims had assigned duties and created a council. As Tim watched this little group function, he began to realize this was the cream of the crop. Not the biggest, not the strongest, not the smartest, but in character, the toughest. When the chips had been down, they had stuck together. They had retained their human compassion. For the first time Tim felt honored about their naming the base after him.

Jake Walters had become the base's tireless information officer. He scanned incoming broadcasts with a diligence that astonished Tim. Not only did he have the outside situation covered, he was becoming more involved with Arty and the plane. At one point Arty had abandoned the development of one of the planes systems, and together with Jake, they had redesigned a new system. As ex-pilots, they no doubt spoke the same language.

*

Everybody in Timtown seemed to be adapting to the situation and becoming comfortable, except Tim and Ann. Tim was still apprehensive, and Ann was just plain unresponsive to anyone. Tim knew why he 'wasn't falling into place', as Arty had commented, but the thing with Ann was 'really sad', as Margie had put it.

Margie was a complete mystery to Tim because she acted like his mother, his girlfriend, and an older sister, all rolled into one. She had complete control of every situation she was involved in, but did not push herself, or her opinion on anyone.

A big celebration was underway because Arty's plane had been completed and was being tested, and retested. Tomorrow morning, at six o'clock, it would race down the smooth surface Tim was now walking. He had done this many times in the last few days, but instead of the black, solid wall he was coming to, tomorrow, light would be streaming in because it would be open to the world.

It was five hours before the big even as Tim stood at the end of the runway. He had passed off worrying about Arty crashing. Between Arty, Jake, and Mr. V, it wasn't likely. The simulator had impressed upon Tim that the actual plane had enough technology and backup systems to make it unique in its dependability. He wanted the first flight to go smoothly because then it would be his turn and he would be ready. He didn't feel like attending the celebration because he could not get his mind off flying out through the wall in front of him, and out into the sky. The description of the planes performance, that Jake and Arty constantly bragged about, had hooked him.

*

It was six in the morning, and the big event was about to happen. Arty had worked the Timtown group into a frenzy about the launching of his plane. He had played them like a politician, and now every soul in the base was on hand to see the show, except Ann.

A metallic sound echoed through the flight deck, as Arty had coined it, and a large section in the floor in front of everyone began to pull back. As the door receded, a round black cone with the sharp ridges running back from the middle moved into view. The section of the floor continued to move back, exposing more of the plane. It was as beautiful as the holograms had predicted, flat, black, and sleek. It reminded Tim of the grace and functional appearance of the up to date race cars he was always admiring. The door had slide back far enough to expose most of the plane. As the twin tails and engine exhausts of the plane became visible a second cone appeared as the opening in the floor continued to grow.

Tim shot a glance at Arty.

"The one on the left is yours. I didn't want to go flying alone," stated Arty.

"What? Are you nuts? I can't fly that thing!" Tim said quickly.

"Hey, Jake and I both studied your performance in the simulator, and we think you're ready," Arty returned.

"Arty, I'm not ready to fly anything. I remember you telling me about all the training necessary when you were learning how. I mean, I know this thing is probably a little easier, but come on!" Tim said defensively.

"Timmy, if I thought it would be silly, I wouldn't be telling—'no'—I wouldn't be asking you to come along. Besides, that plane is completely safe. It has an anti-crash system, and Jake will be monitoring you constantly. If necessary, he can take complete control from here."

"What if something breaks?"

"You've been in the simulator. You know how to use all the backups, and, again, Jake will be like he's right with you. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me; it'll be no harder than driving the van."

"Easy for you to say, and incidentally, the first time I drove the van I ran into a mail truck."

"There are no mail trucks where we're going, so you have nothing to worry about."

"It was parked Arty."

"Oh, well you're older and wiser now. Look, you drive that Sky-bike all over hell. This is the same thing."

"The first time I tried the Sky-bike, I fell off," Tim confessed.

"You'll be sitting 'in' the plane, you can't fall off," Arty argued.

"Arty," Tim whined.

"Timmy, you are going. You want to do this, I know. Correct?"

"Weeell, yes, but not so soon. And why didn't you let me know about this any sooner, so I could have been prepared?"

"If you would have known, it would have just made you uncomfortable. More time to get increasingly nervous. The time is now, just do it."

"And if I really fuck up?" Tim whined again.

"It's been nice knowing you Little Brother," Arty laughed.

"Oh god!" said Tim, as two small robots approached him with the pressure suit that would keep him conscious up to twenty G's.

*

Ten minutes later he was suited up. All the while the robots had been putting him in the suit; he had been trying to come up with excuses. He had done well in the simulator, and had even congratulated himself on the fact, the day before, he was certain he could fly the plane. But now here he was climbing into the real plane, for the real thing. As the robots connected the suit to the plane, strapped him in, and put the helmet down over his head, he felt like he had been conned by Arty.

Arty's known all along how much I wanted to fly that plane because after I first saw the hologram and got in the simulator I lost interest in everything else. Last night as I stood down at the end of the runway, up against the barrier I was wishing I could go. Arty had probably been watching me, so here is my wish.

When he was settled he started the sequences he had learned in the simulator. External power switch on, conformation of adequate internal power, then external power off. Tim looked back, and there was Ann standing behind the plane. She waved and mouthed good luck and then turned and walked back toward the others.

Tim returned to his task at hand. Assistance computer, on. The cockpit jumped to life and the screens lit up with the information he would need to pull this off. Readouts began as he switched on all the ships functions. Life-support, on, Navigation, on, Communications, on, Engine and Control systems, on. Each one caused a little more buzzing within the machine. It would be real easy to get confused at this point, Tim realized, but then again if he just concentrated he could at least get the damn thing started by himself. Not a total loss then.

"Start primary system," Arty commanded.

Tim activated the system and the readout confirmed the system was on. Next was the Fire-suppression system and it went active. Then the Controls went active and the Controls-Stick on his right danced around as the control surfaces on the plane synchronized with it. Then Life-support was activated and Tim felt this one. His pressure suit and helmet liner inflated against his body and head.

A dull clang sounded from outside the plane and startled Tim. It sounded like something had fallen. He looked around and could see nothing out of place, but all the spectators were being ushered back away from the two planes into a separate area protected by a transparent barrier. Ann hesitated for a moment and looked Tim's way before continuing on. She had made him feel so much more confident by the two simple little acts of recognition, he couldn't believe it. This was going to be a piece of cake.

Light from in front of the plane caught his attention and he turned to look down the runway. The barrier to the outside was opening. The light had started at the base of the runway and was moving up. At first he couldn't see out, the intense light partially blinding him, but as the partition moved higher he could see blue sky, but no ground. Way off in the distance he thought he could make out the shimmering clouds from the eruption. He suddenly realized how far up this launch pad was.

Just throw it out the window. Tim remembered his conversation with Arty. Tim was staring down the runway, thinking. Three hundred yards, and then nothing, well probably something, but a long way down. Christ, don't let this thing quit on me. . .Maybe it won't even start? That's a comforting thought. Tim chuckled to himself.

Behind him large panels began to swing up behind the plane from the floor. They were blast deflectors, he knew.

My god, I'm sitting on a powder keg.

"All right, Tim, let's do it! Am I coming in clear?" Arty's voice came through the headset in his helmet.

"Yeah, I can hear you fine. Say Arty, does a stomach ache count when you want to get out of something?"

"Not when you confess the truth."

"Oh, then what 'will' get me out of this?"

"Oh, if you really don't think you're up to it, you can back out."

Tim didn't respond right away, but here was his chance. He thought about it for a few seconds and then said. "Golly, my stomach ache has miraculously disappeared."

"Then start number one," said Arty.

Tim pushed the throttles to the start position and punched the charge icon for the number one engine. A soft whine started and began to spool up. The whine reached a sharp pitch and then a whooshing sound and a light on the display in front of him confirmed engine combustion. When the control panel signaled satisfactory start and idle, Tim repeated the process for the number two engine. As he watched number two come to life, the temperatures, fuel flow, oil pressures, system activators, fire systems, backups, he relaxed for the first time confident that he really knew what he was doing.

So far, so good.

The next step was to bring the canopy down and lock it. Suddenly the confidence left him, as the transparent cover moved down and with a soft click confined him in the small cockpit. It had never seemed this small in the simulator. His legs were pinned on both sides by panels. The panel on the left contained the throttles and a lighted key board for controlling the communications, the radars and the sensors on board. The panel on the right had the control stick. There was a thin partition in between his legs. The top of this partition was flat, and all the engine functions were displayed there. There was no room for him to move his shoulders to the sides, as the seat came around his pressure suit. He could move his head side to side, but only about thirty degrees both ways. There was no need to look out the sides and to the rear in the TT Fighter because small cameras did it for him and displayed the images inside cockpit in three dimensional holograms.

What if the damn plane doesn't work? What if I make a mistake? What if? What if I put it off until tomorrow? What if I put it off forever? The thoughts were jumping through his head as he stared down the runway and out into the open world, three hundred yards ahead.

"You okay?" asked Arty.

"Yeah, I guess so, but I'm not entirely sure about this," conceded Tim.

"You can put it off, if you want. I'm telling you right now."

"Were you this scared the first time?" asked Tim.

"Of course," stated Arty.

"I can second that," Jake added. "I was always a little scared every time I flew. Anything can happen at any time. Being afraid keeps you from being careless. I'm sure you've figured already that you wouldn't have spent so much time in the simulator if you didn't have the desire. You know what to do, just do it. Besides, I'll be helping you out from here."

"You really think I can do it, huh?"

"I sure do. If I didn't, I wouldn't let you go because I get to fly that thing when you return it. Are you ready?" said Jake.

"Phew, I guess so."

Nobody said anything for a few moments, until Tim spoke again. "Okay let's do it!"

"All right, you go first, I'll be right behind," said Arty.

Tim concentrated on what he had to do to launch the plane and he was ready. In the simulator this was the most fun. This time he would feel the real power. His fear left him; this was the moment he had been waiting for.

He pushed the throttles to half power to check the engines. He could feel the plane straining against the fully applied brakes as both engines came up to fifty percent with a scream to the front of him and a roar to the rear. Behind the plane great waves of heat poured off the blast deflectors obscuring everything except Arty's plane, off to the left and slightly behind.

Next check controls. Tim manipulated the controls and the computer verified that all the movements of the Stick corresponded with the movements of the ailerons, canards, and rudders.

Check heading. The plane would leave the base heading 350 degrees; the runway in Timtown was pointing North-North-West, then set the guidance system.

Check engines. The readouts on the display panel showed all the engine functions were proper.

Reduce power to twenty-five percent. Set all the controls to neutral. The computer confirmed all the control surfaces were neutral. Tim could feel the power of the craft buzzing all through his body. The sound was like a constant distance thunder storm. He was sure the noise outside must be intense. He was really excited now. He was thinking about the description of the power and speed of the plane Arty and Jake had given him and it sent chills running down his spine.

"All set?" asked Arty.

"I guess?" Tim replied as he looked at Arty's plane on the hologram inside his cockpit. A thick shaft of heat was blasting out of the right engine on the other plane, striking the blast shield and deflecting up. Then it dissipated into the heat waves already permeating everything in the launch area. Some of the heat waves had traveled forward and started to cool, and the moisture had begun to condense forming a thin wispy fog. Some of the fog was rolling down over the front of Arty's plane and was being pulled toward the engine intakes. The mist lazily rolled down from above the plane, but as it got nearer the engine it began to compress and speed up. Ten feet from the intake the mists rushed together and were sucked straight into the engine.

"Start your launch sequence on the five count, and I'll be right behind you. Agreed?" said Arty.

"Okay," said Tim quickly because there was no sense hesitating now.

"Starting count: One," said Arty. "Two. . . three. . . four. . . and as he said five, Tim punched the launch icon.

"Launch on zero," said the onboard computer. "Eight," it announced, as a large eight flashed hologram style in the front of the visor of Tim's helmet.

"Seven." The entire launch would be handled by the computer, until the craft was clear of the base.

"Six." Tim tried to relax and concentrated on the opening in front of him.

"Five." The computer brought the engines to forty percent standard power.

"Four." The engines continued to spool up, fifty percent, sixty percent. Just left of the main display screen was a screen six inches square. The screen was divided into thirty-six smaller squares. Each one was bright green at this time. If any function of the plane was to fail the corresponding square would change to bright red.

"Three." Everything was still green, and the engines continued to build up.

"Two." He stared straight ahead to the opening. Two more seconds and he would be on his way. To what, he could not imagine. The plane was buzzing with the power of the engines.

"One." Tim gulped once, as the power passed eighty percent.

"Zero." Tim watched the throttles jump forward to the max-standard stop. The brakes released, and the plane jolted forward, slamming his head back to the head rest. The TT Fighter launched forward, as he watched the functions screen. It was all green. The engines were at ninety percent. At the same moment he saw the percentage reading jump to one-hundred and the increased power pushed him back even harder into the seat. He was halfway to the end of the strip and the acceleration was compressing him so hard he had trouble pulling in a breath even with the pressure suit helping him. The open world was rushing toward him as he counted one thousand one, one thousand, and before he could finish the two count he was in the bright light of the outside.

"He counted one thousand one, and hit the landing gear up icon. The speed reading was already 446 knots, altitude; three-thousand and twelve feet, heading 351 degrees. The gear locked up; it said so in front of him as he took control of the machine. Turn and climb to the left was the next step. He applied pressure to the controls, and the plane responded. Speed 534 knots, altitude; four-thousand eighty-six feet, heading 339 degrees. He straightened the plane out, but continued to climb at a 45% angle. Below, the mountains next to the valley, where he had come from, were slipping quickly behind. Ahead was a wall of ash, smoke, and dust from the fractured fault. Arty had instructed him to stay out of the dirty air, so he rolled the plane to the left, away from the wall. As the fighter rolled to the left, he looked down into the valley. He had spent the last five years living there and had prided himself on knowing where everything was. He had flown back to Wisconsin, one summer, and as the plane had left and returned, he was able to recognize the land marks that abounded there. Now he could see little that was familiar. The lava had reached about three-fourths the way to the upper end.

Speed was 760 knots and altitude; nine-thousand and sixty-seven feet. The computer also said he was 8 miles from Timtown. In less than 20 seconds he had traveled the distance it took 20 minutes to drive.

"Good take off," Arty said.

"Arty, where are you?"

"Behind, and slightly above. Pay attention to the rear," he commanded.

Tim hadn't been paying any attention to the holograms until Arty scolded him, but there was the second TT Fighter, in three D, a couple of hundred yards back and above him.

The readouts said 800 knots, and ten-thousand-five-hundred feet, and it had gotten strangely quiet.

"Arty, what happened? It's so quiet all of a sudden."

"You went through the sound barrier. Come on Tim, think. You went through this in the simulator," Arty's voice was stern.

"Oh yeah. Oh man this is so great, I just forgot, sorry."

"Don't apologize to me; you're the one that's going to be sorry if you don't get your shit together 'Little Brother'. Let's go to twenty-thousand, I want to get out of this dusty air. We don't want to be too hard on our babies."

Tim pulled back on the stick until the plane was vertical, and it still accelerated as it climbed, 900 knots, twelve-thousand feet, 1070 knots, fifteen-thousand feet, all the time the tremendous power of the plane was being transmitted through his body. He was hooked on this and he knew it.

At nineteen-thousand feet, and 1200 knots he pushed the plane over toward horizontal and pulled back on the throttles. The plane began to slow its mad dash and shortly stabilized at nineteen thousand-seven hundred and fifty-six feet, and 1356 knots.

Below was the West end of the valley. Huge thunder heads reaching back from the fault to the Northeast were dropping heavy rain on the city below, and heavier amounts on the tall mountains rising immediately west of the city. It was these mountains rising dramatically twelve thousand feet above the city, sitting close to sea level, that gave the valley much of its charm. Now the massive boundary of rocks was collecting the continual rain fall and sending it to the bottom where the city lay. Tim could see the southern part of the city and it was flooded. The northern part was covered in white from an intense barrage of hail. Arty had moved slightly in front of him as they raced toward the mountains to the west of the city.

"We're going to have to go 'up' to get around this storm. Follow me," Arty commanded.

Arty's plane shot a bright, bluish-white column of fire and light from the rear of each engine and the plane pulled quickly up and away from Tim's. Tim pushed the throttles forward and pulled back on his stick and went after him. Arty was in a near vertical climb with Tim close behind when suddenly Arty disappeared into the clouds comprising the Eastern bottom edge of the storm. Before Tim could worry about Arty disappearing he too was engulfed by the thick clouds. He was completely disoriented. He knew he was traveling over twice the speed of sound and he still felt the strong pull on his body from the continued acceleration, but there was nothing moving outside the canopy to prove that to his eyes. He remembered the lessons from the simulator and quickly checked the readouts to establish his angle of climb and his location to the horizon. The computer said he was still in an 85 degree climb and that his wings were still level. It was almost pitch black outside and water was vaporizing off the front edges and the canopy of his plane.

He figured he must be flying through some heavy rain and at his present speed of 1890 he understood the vapor. The pressure exerted on anything contacting an object traveling at that velocity would certainly cause some strange things. The computer readout said the outside temperature of the plane was also rising. As he reached forty-five thousand feet, and 2100 knots, the temperature on the nose and leading edges of the TT Fighter had reached 600 degrees. Arty had assured Tim the airplane could operate at temperatures far in excess of anything its maximum speed could generate.

It started to get lighter and in a few short seconds, Tim burst out of the clouds and headed straight into the prettiest, darkest, blue sky. It was prettier than the one he had seen at the dinosaur sightings.

"Level off." Arty's voice startled Tim. He pushed the stick forward and watched the deep blue rotate up over his head. He also pulled the throttles back and when he was at horizontal he looked at his readouts. They read fifty-two thousand and twenty-four feet, and 2498 knots-per-hour. He fiddled with the throttles until he stabilized the speed at 2550.

"Man, way the hell up here," he said to himself. They had flown up through the West edge of the massive storm. As they moved away it looked like a gigantic field of cotton floating on a dark sinister sea. It stretched out behind them as far as Tim could see. He could see another one of the cotton fields stretching away to the Northwest. He knew down below it was a violent storm. In front of him there were only some small patches of clouds and below them he spied green.

"Are you glad you came along?" asked Arty.

"Yeah, this is fantastic," Tim replied.

"Play around with the 'ship'. Get to know it. Feel it out," Arty commanded.

"Okay!" Tim flicked the stick to the right with a small move of his wrist. The plane snapped into a quick roll, and then another. He moved the stick to the left to correct the roll. He flicked his wrist back, and the nose of the craft climbed skyward, pressing him hard into the seat. He held the stick back, and the nose moved upward toward the dark blue. The nose of the craft moved through the dark blue sky. Then again to the storms on the horizon, only they were above him this time. Tim felt tremendous forces pulling him back and down. The nose then moved through the horizon and down into the green of the Earth. The pressure was getting too much for him to stand and his vision began to blur. He felt light headed so he moved his wrist slightly forward and that caused the plane to ease its tight circle. The pressure decreased immediately as the nose drifted lazily from straight down to up toward the horizon.

He had a little trouble getting the plane back to level flight, but after a couple of dips and rises he succeeded. It was his first loop, but he wasn't going to tell Arty he had almost passed out.

He checked his readouts. Altitude was fifty-three-thousand, eight-hundred, and speed was 2430 knots.

"Get a little fuzzy there?" Arty's tone was stern.

"Oh shit, a little. How did you know?"

"I can monitor your functions, that is how!"

"I'm sorry, I got carried away."

"All the time in the simulator and you go and pull a stupid stunt like that. What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I didn't think it was that big a deal, Arty. If you can monitor me, and Jake can also control this plane, why are you making so much out of it?"

"There are rules to follow, and when you are, flying, with, me, you, will, follow, those, rules." Arty had stretched the words out to emphasize them. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tim returned with a condescending tone. Shit, ordering me around when I was little was okay, but we're both men now.

"Look you little shit, you're not Number One up here, and you will do what you are told. And that smart ass attitude will not do either." There was a harsh chill to Arty's voice and it had an inhuman quality to it. "Can you handle that?"

"I understand," said Tim.

"Good, I hate to yell at anyone to get them straightened out, but if I have to, I will." This time Arty's tone was more of the parent type, stern, but forgiving. "I'm the one that brought you up here, and if anything happened, I could never forgive myself. I was a little worried when you started to black out. I thought I might have to—Hey, look at that!"

"Look at what?" responded Tim.

There was a long pause. "Oh nothing," Arty finally said.

What is it with Arty's personality changes, or am I just imagining it? We've all changed a great deal in the last few weeks. Maybe I'm just being a little paranoid. Tim laughed out loud.

"Did you say something?" asked Arty.

"Yeah, I was wondering what you wanted me to see?"

"I answered you, but I thought I heard a laugh or something."

"You did. That's okay isn't it? I mean, if I laugh at something that's humorous to me."

There was a pause before Arty responded. "Of course—what was so humorous?"

"I don't know, I forgot. What did you want me to see?"

"Ah, oh, we're getting close to, um, the coast, want to go down and take a look?"

"I'm with ya," responded Tim.

He didn't wait for Arty. He pushed the stick forward and pulled the throttles back, putting the plane into a vertical dive. His stomach rose halfway up his throat and his body tingled with excitement. This was the best move yet, heading straight down. He moved the stick slightly to the left to put the plane into a slow roll. The ground far below was mostly green, but he could make out some of man's developments and roads circling outside the point on the ground he was aimed at.

Tim watched the altitude numbers decreasing, forty-six-thousand, forty-two, thirty-nine, with fascination. He was entranced by the numbers as he assimilated them with the rapidly approaching Earth. The objects and details below were becoming larger and sharper by the moment.

As the numbers read thirty-two-thousand, Arty broke his trance. "You plan on pulling up?"

Tim let out a sigh as the altitude reading said twenty-nine-thousand. "It's such a trip, it's like the ground is pulling you to it."

"Well, it's going to be your last trip if you go much below twenty-thousand at that speed."

"Ah, okay," Tim said as he extended the air brakes.

Tim was flung forward, as the plane felt like it had hit a wall. He was held to the seat only by the safety harness. He continued the vertical decent and the slow spin, still mesmerized by the objects on the ground as they rushed toward him. He had dropped to nineteen-thousand, but his airspeed had reduced to 1100 knots and was still falling. At ten-thousand he reluctantly stopped the spin, and gradually pulled back on the stick to shallow out the dive. Again, he felt the uncomfortable pressure of the increased G's, but he wouldn't have missed it for the world, and he could do this again sometime. The nose gracefully moved off the point he had been aiming at, gradually rotating to the horizon, then painting a line out to the horizon at six-thousand feet, and 723 knots forward speed.

"I'm glad to see that you had the sense to finally pull out," Arty said.

"I suppose you think I'm weirding out on you," Tim said.

"Oh no, I understand fully because I've done the same thing. One time I think I ended up with grass stains on my ass."

Tim began to laugh. He could appreciate the humor after experiencing what he had done.

"It doesn't look too good down there, have you noticed?" Arty asked.

"I hadn't paid too much attention," Tim said as he scanned the surface down below. Now for the first time he became fully aware of the speed they were traveling. Some mountains off to the right were sliding by like an old farm house along a dusty country road, and they were only going a little over 700.

He could see what Arty had alerted him to. Down on the ground he could make out streets and highways, but all the structures were black and flattened. Everything man had built had been burned to a cinder.

"Where are we?" Tim asked.

"A bit east of that big coastal city," Arty returned.

"There's nothing left down there, what happened?"

"A fire storm, I would imagine."

"Oh yeah, the radio was talking about them when I was on my way to the hospital to get you. Damn, I sure wouldn't want to get caught in something like that. Christ, think of all the people. It must have been hell."

"You weren't there, that's what counts," Arty added.

"Yeah, lucky me."

"You sure don't make much sense sometimes. Either that or you just want to disagree with me. Which is it?"

"Arty I'm sorry, I just can't help feeling a little remorse, considering all the suffering that has gone on."

"It was inevitable, so why worry about it now?"

"You sound like Mr. V," Tim said, not meaning anything by the statement.

"That's silly. He's a machine, and he has no emotions," Arty shouted maniacally. "Why would—?" Arty stopped and was silent.

"Man, did you see that?" Tim jumped in, thankful for a distraction. Man, I don't want to continue this conversation because he's frightening.

"See what?" Arty asked.

"Are you watching the storm that's coming up on the left?" Tim answered.

"Are you talking about the backward one coming up?"

"Yeah, that's the one, the one with the crazy lightning," Tim exclaimed. "I've never heard of lightning doing that before. Look at that! Did you see the size of that bolt? It started out of the ground, didn't it?"

"It did. I sure don't know what to think of it."

"Arty, it's still going. Man that thing is bright. Boy, just think of the juice it must take to do that. Geez, what the hell is going on?"

"I have no idea, but let's circle this thing and try to get some readings. Reduce speed to 600, and be on the alert. If I say break right, or break left, jam the throttles, and do it, understand?"

"Got'cha!"

"Okay, keep it at about twelve-thousand, and this distance out. I'm going to go in a little closer. You keep a close eye on your scanners; I'm counting on you to cover for me while I'm in there."

"What am I supposed to be watching for?" asked Tim.

"How would I know? Just be alert. With the power inside that storm 'my' instruments may be affected, so you just might be our eyes and ears for a while. I'm going to get as many readings as possible. We need to know about this."

Tim followed the instructions Arty had given him and began a slow large circle about the storm. It wasn't really big in comparison to some of the others they had seen today, but it was defined and obviously very intense. It had a low, black, ominous base close to the ground. The main structure of the storm was almost a perfect cylinder, about five miles in diameter. It rose in massive billows of white clouds etched on the black interior of the formation. The storm towered over Tim, reaching far into the upper atmosphere and ending with the customary anvil formation. Tim had never seen a thunderstorm this perfect, or awe inspiring, but the electricity in this mutant was the real attraction.

Tim was watching intently, but had not seen any activity since the large discharge a couple of minutes ago. It looked like the air between the storm and the ground was getting a green tint to it. Tim watched closely. It was a luminous green and it was getting brighter.

"Something's about to happen, Arty, can you read me? Arty, I hope the hell you're not too close because that thing is getting ready to go off, 'again'?"

Tim heard no response, just static and it was increasing. "If you're in there, get the hell out. Now! Can you hear me? Arty can you hear me? Get the hell away from that thing; it's getting ready to go off again. I don't think you should be too close. Answer me!" Tim shouted.

The luminescence increased into a bright green ball of fire that grew up out of the ground and expanded toward the base of the storm. The ball had reached half way to the bottom clouds and then suddenly reversed itself and shrank back into the ground. Tim watched in awe as the glowing mass of energy was absorbed by the earth until there was none left.

"Arty, where the hell are you? Did you see what just happened? Answer me dammit!"

"Not to worry, not to worry," Arty finally answered. "I'm circling at one-thousand just outside the disturbance. What a strange form of energy. I can't figure out exactly what we're watching, but it seems that the. . .hold it, something is about to happen."

"Get the hell out of there!" Tim advised.

The static on the comm returned immediately, this time much more intense than before. As Tim watched the phenomenon, a thick bolt of white electricity flashed from the ground and split into a hundred jagged fingers, reaching deep into the entire huge storm cell. The bolt grew in intensity, becoming so bright that Tim had to look away even though he had the dark visor over his eyes. The front and the side of the TT Fighter facing the storm were washed in bright light for three or four-seconds. Then suddenly it went dark. During the height of the exchange most of the systems on the plane had remained operational, except the comm and the radar. After the discharge dissipated they too returned to normal.

"Arty can you read me?" Tim shouted.

"No need to yell, I'm still here, a little confused, but still here."

"What the hell was that fuckin crazy lightning all about?"

"I have no idea. You tell me? I've got a lot of readings, but no answers. This is a problem for Mr. V, and don't swear so much."

"I'm sorry, I got excited, but that was something else. Has this ever happened before?"

"How should I know?"

Tim had been circling the storm and was in the southern part of his arch. He spotted a line of something roughly paralleling the coast line much farther in the distance. He commented this to Arty, who had also seen the same thing and agreed that they should investigate.

*

The storm they had been scrutinizing began to lose some of its punch, as they regrouped and headed southwest. They could see the ocean twenty or so miles in front of them, but about ten miles closer there was definitely another boundary of some type.

Shortly, they were coming up over the strange line.

On the inland side of the line the terrain was the same as they had been traveling over. They could see the streets, highways, parking lots, and the burned out structures. The line they were investigating was a thick, dark, mass of blackened debris. On the ocean side of the line the concrete was still there, but all the charred material had been swept clean and deposited in the line.

"What the hell could have caused that?" Tim commented.

"My guess would be a Tsunami."

"A sue who?"

"A Tsunami, a tidal-wave."

"Oh yeah. I've heard of that. Geez, what next? What else can happen? Do you think that anyone could have lived through all that?"

"There are always survivors," Arty stated.

"Let's go down and see if we can find anyone."

"And, do what?"

"I don't know, I just thought?"

"Well, forget it. If you want to mount a rescue mission on your own time, that's fine with me." The tone of Arty's voice convinced Tim no argument would be accepted. "We've seen enough here. We'll head north up along the fault. Fall in behind and we'll go up over that storm to the right."

*

The two small black planes accelerated up the dark outer boundary of a large thunder head, only the fiery, white exhausts made them visible.

*

A line of thunder storms to the North-northwest marked the fault they were now headed for. The fault hadn't broken completely, yet, but along the majority of its length, hot gases, ash, steam, and sometimes lava were belching from the earth.

They were flying at forty-five-thousand feet, and 1800 knots, sweeping in and out of the massive cloud formations on the Western edge of the fault. Tim could really tell the speed as he slipped through the canyons in the clouds. They were gobbling up miles per seconds. He was developing a real feel for the airplane, constantly making small maneuvers to see how the craft responded. The controls were so sensitive he could feel the pressure from the air on the control surfaces through his glove. He commented that to Arty.

"Like that, huh? It's entirely new to me too. The pressure from the control surfaces of the plane is transmitted to your hands and feet. I figured it would improve pilot performance. I like the results so far. I'm pleased that you noticed."

"What other Sci-fi gadgets did you put in these things?"

"Oh a few. One that you probably couldn't appreciate is the dogfight assist."

"I should have known."

"I was just thinking back to the old days. Anyway, in a dogfight you try to get in behind the plane you want to shoot down, and visa versa. You can imagine how difficult it can be, especially if that pilot has a good airplane, or is good himself. You have to be able to properly judge your opponent's actions, correctly, so I thought of an advantage. I thought of it years ago, but I was just a lowly Lieutenant back then, and they didn't have the technology anyway, so I didn't mention it to anyone. When the plane you're pursuing makes any kind of maneuver, it must move one of the control surfaces, correct?"

"Yeah," Tim agreed.

"Well, I put a high speed, high resolution camera in the front of my plane to signal the flight computer the millisecond any of the surfaces on the target changes, and my plane responds instantly. You understand?"

"Yeah, instead of turning after you see the plane turn, you turn right when he starts his, but isn't that cheating?"

"Pretty good, and no that isn't cheating, not when you are fighting for your life."

"Well, I don't think that we'll need any of that, assist to kill stuff, on this trip."

"You never know Timmy, you never know."

Tim didn't answer because he hoped that Arty had no intentions other than to just explore. They were safe. If they just played it cool and smart there wasn't anything that could catch them. He was sure of that. They could go anywhere they wanted, just to look around. That had been the purpose the planes were built for, Tim thought.

While they were slicing through one of the deep dark canyons in the clouds, Tim pushed the throttles past the standard-full position, to the emergency position. The jolt was incredible as the G's shot to twelve in two-seconds, and in five-seconds he had accelerated from just below 1700 knots to over 2800, before pulling the throttles back.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to get adventurous." Arty said.

"It's okay then," returned Tim.

"It's done already, and yes it's okay. The more you learn about that plane, the better. Let's go up and head east," commanded Arty.

Tim was just starting up into a climb when Arty's plane flashed over him, going vertical, with the engines evidently in full emergency power, Fifty foot compact cones of bright, white flame imbedded with shock diamonds were shooting back from each engine. In seconds all he could see of Arty was the two bright white beacons disappearing rapidly in front of him. He pushed his engines to full emergency power, pulled the stick back, and followed. He ran at full power until his speed had climbed to 2950 and still there was no Arty so he backed off and held his speed at about 3100 and flattened out his climb at fifty-five thousand, nine-hundred and eighty feet. Tim watched the ground pass rapidly, far below him.

*

A beep caught his attention and in the hologram directly in front of his chest, two blips appeared. The color code said aircraft and the numbers said a hundred and sixty-seven miles ahead and slightly to the left.

"Arty, hey helloooo Arty, come in Arty," Tim called out.

"Arty here, what's up?"

"We've got some company," Tim answered.

"Yes, I saw them. They appear to be fighters."

"Maybe we should get out of here?" I don't want any kind of contact.

"What for? We have just as much right to be here as they have. Besides, they're fifty miles out and couldn't do much about us anyway, even if they wanted to."

Arty is bragging, I can tell by the tone of his voice, and he just confessed to being a lot closer to the fighters than I am.

"Still, we aren't looking for any trouble, right?" Tim asked.

"Right, but a little fun is a different thing," Arty returned.

"Ah shit Arty, come on, we don't need this. For christ sakes. . .don't screw around. Where are you, dammit, Arty answer me?"

Arty didn't respond.

The two blips had turned slightly and were now moving almost straight across his line, now only a hundred miles out. Tim kept his speed and direction the same and figured he would pass about twenty miles to their rear. He remembered Arty said the TT Fighters could not be picked up by radar, which explained why his radar had no idea where Arty was, and why the two fighters would never know Arty was even there.

The two blips suddenly split and increased speed. As Tim watched them in the hologram they began to twist and turn all over the sky. Now I know where Arty is.

"Arty, leave them alone, dammit! Arty, you're going to give us away, please, leave them alone!"

Tim waited for a few seconds and watched the two blips as they obviously were trying to shake something off their backs. "You're a shit-head Arty!" Tim was mad. "We don't need this kind of crap. Leave them alone!"

Tim decided to pick up the conversations from the other two pilots. It was simple to do in the TT Fighter. The computer locked on to their frequency immediately upon request.

"Blue leader, to Blue one." One of the pilots was agitated, his voice bordering on panic. "I can't shake this Son-of-a-Bitch! Nothing works! What the hell kind of a plane is it?"

"I don't know Cat Man, I don't recognize it. Keep up the good work; you're doing just great Son. I'm trying to work around behind him."

"Good work?" the pilot questioned. "Major, he's got my ass! Damn, nothing can shake him, Major, please help me out! Get this thing off my tail!" the pilot pleaded.

Tim could hear the pilot straining to breath.

"Arty!" Tim switched back to his frequency. "Arty get the hell off him. He's scared dammit. Don't do this, please. Arty let's just go, you've had your fun. Arty!" Tim was pleading, but Arty still didn't answer.

One of the blips had slowed and was going straight down. Tim switched back to the frequency of the other two planes.

"Blue one, Blue one, eject, you've been hit! I repeat, eject, you've been hit." There was a pause. "Blue one, get out now. Please, Blue one, eject, eject." Tim could sense the anguish of the Major as he had just lost one of his men.

Tim could see the track of the burning plane a little to his right and way below him. Then the track suddenly ended in a small flash and a dozen smoky objects continued down.

"Blue wing, this is Blue flight leader. I repeat this is Blue leader." It was the remaining fighter calling home.

"Blue leader, this is Blue wing, go ahead." Tim didn't know who was answering.

"Blue wing, Blue one is down! I repeat, Blue one is down."

"I copy Blue leader, what is your status?"

That must be the base the two fighters originated from.

"I am on a course of 111, speed 760 knots, no damage, low on fuel, but I can make it home. Hostile has disappeared."

"Be advised Blue leader, we have no hostiles in the area."

"Be advised Blue wing, Blue one is down from action with a hostile. I repeat Blue one is down from hostile action."

Boy, that Major is really pissed.

"Blue Leader, Angel Eyes confirms there are no hostiles in your area."

"Blue Wing, my radar didn't confirm the hostile either, but my eyes did. The hostile fired a bolt of light into Blue One. Blue One is down, I repeat, Blue One is down. There was no chute. You can call his mother now!"

Good for you Major, don't take any shit from someone that wasn't there.

Tim had swung in behind the fleeing fighter, which turned out to be an F-16. He had closed to about five miles, high and behind, and was sure the Major couldn't see him. Damn Arty, I'm not going to let him shot this plane down. I don't know how I can stop him, but I'll try if I have to.

Tim went back to his frequency. "Arty come in, come in damnit."

I swear, I'll ram him, if I have to," Tim said to himself.

"Arty come in! Tim shouted into the comm."

Tim switched back to the remaining F-16.

"Blue Leader, describe the hostile." It was the fighter's base again.

"Blue Wing—small, black, fighter aircraft, twin engine, twin stabilizers, front canards, almost delta. Not sure about rear tail planes. Extremely, and I emphasize, 'extremely fast and maneuverable'. Made first pass on us at estimated 2000, to 2500 knots. Our radar did not pick it up, I repeat, hostile had stealth capabilities. Blue one, could not shake it. It fired on Blue One with a laser, I repeat, Blue One destroyed by laser hit. Do you copy?"

"Yes Blue Leader, we copy. Ah, Blue Leader, did the hostile have any markings?"

"No, smooth and black, and clean as a whistle."

"Are you sure, no markings?"

"Yes Blue Wing, I am sure. I got a good look at the top, bottom, and sides, and there were no markings."

"Anything else to report Blue Leader?"

"Yes, hostile had very powerful 'jet' engines."

There was a hesitation. "What indicated jet engines, Blue leader?"

"Blue Wing, engines had intakes, repeat, it was an air breather, and its engines produced a brilliant blue-white exhaust with a long string of shock diamonds. I repeat, bright blue-white exhaust, extensive shock diamonds at heavy throttle."

*

It was a minute or so until there was a reply. "Blue Leader, this is Blue Wing. Do you want to report a UFO, Blue Leader?"

"A what?" Blue Leader sounded stunned by the request. "It was an airplane, dammit; it came from some place here."

"Blue Leader, do you want to report a UFO?"

"No, no I don't."

*

Many blips began to appear in the far range hologram so Tim pulled the nose of the TT Fighter up and continued to climb until he had reached one-hundred-thousand feet. It was safe up there, and he needed time to think. This is not good because Arty's shot down a military plane. How could he be so stupid? Doesn't he see what the outcome will be? They will pursued us now because we've made ourselves visible. We have attracted attention. It's a bad, bad move. I'm sure of that.

*

Tim continued flying east at the one-hundred-thousand altitude and had set his speed at 2500 knots. From this height, the curve in the Earth's surface was evident. He could make out many geological formations below and could see some highways and towns, but the detail was poor. Above the sky was a dark, dark purple. He watched with intent for land marks to establish his position. He could have the computer locate him to within a few feet, but he wanted to do this by himself. It wasn't clear to even him, why, but something deep inside said to do it. He was trying to analyze his emotions.

Timtown, what does it really mean? It is a salvation, safe from all the things that had gone wrong in the last few weeks, an incredible experience that I probably would have taken part in even if things had remained normal.

*

He was now coming up on what he was sure were the Great Salt Lakes. He played with the computer a little and it said that he would pass over the expanse of the entire salt desert formation in one minute and twenty-one seconds. In barely over a minute I'm going to race over a major obstacle that a scant one hundred years ago would have been almost impassable to anyone wishing to cross.

*

Tim continued to fly east. He was getting low on fuel and would have to drop down to a lower altitude to replenish his tanks. The plane's engines burned hydrogen and the plane had a hydrogen generator similar to the one Mr. V had given him for the van, but it needed the thicker air down low to accomplish its function efficiently. He scanned the holograms for any other planes. He would also have to fly at a slower speed to pick up his hydrogen and he wanted to be sure he was alone.

*

He pulled the throttles back and pushed the nose of the fighter down, starting toward the ground eighteen miles below. As he descended he called for Arty repeatedly, with no results. He began to fear that his brother may have also gone down. Maybe Arty had been justified in his actions.

He started the hydrogen generator at thirty-thousand feet, but even at this altitude it would take fifteen minutes to fill the tanks so he continued to go down. He leveled out at three-thousand feet and 600 knots to continue the refueling.

*

The long range sensors were picking up something four hundred miles in front of him. According to the description on the computer it was a mountain range, but when he checked the topography of the area it was supposed to be flat plains. The long range sensors indicated strong storms over the supposed mountains. Tim figured that the long range sensors might be malfunctioning, or the storms were causing some sort of distortion to the equipment.

*

His tanks read full so Tim pointed the TT Fighter up and increased the power to the engines, putting himself into a long gentle climb. He had reached fifty-thousand and was again traveling east at 1800 knots when he was able to see something out in front of the plane. He was coming up on a thick line of clouds stretching out of his sight to the North and South. The map indicated that he was over the central plains, and the sensors said that the clouds continued far north into Canada, and south beyond the range of the radar. The equipment still said that there were mountains under the clouds.

The line of clouds was white and wispy on the top, which was still above his fifty-two-thousand foot altitude. He was racing toward the West-side of the clouds as they rolled up from the bottom where it was dark and foreboding. Just as he was about to dart into the black mass he pulled hard back on the control stick and stood the TT Fighter on its tail. He went straight up until he reached the top of the cloud formation which turned out to be at sixty-eight-thousand. He leveled the plane out and just barely skimmed the top of the clouds.

*

He had traveled fifty miles on the top of the storm and still it continued, so he decided to drop into the clouds and investigate what was really down there. He pulled back on the throttles and let the speed drop. When he had slowed to 700 knots he started down into the cloud mass.

At sixty-thousand feet he was starting to get into wispy clouds, and the computer indicated that it was detecting volcanic ash. He was sure that there were no volcanoes in this area so the readings were confusing.

He continued down and at fifty-thousand the clouds were getting thicker so he could only see half a mile or so. He decided to try to get below the clouds, if possible. He was still getting the readings of large mountains, but they had dropped behind him.

*

At just under twenty-thousand he finally broke out of the heavy clouds. He immediately turned ninety degrees to the right and flew directly south, loosing altitude. Down below, the ground was covered with vegetation and dotted with lakes. A few roads and some dwellings also showed. He looked to the West, back in the direction he had come from, but everything was obscured by mist and rain. The computer still insisted there was a mountain range in there.

He turned ninety degrees to the right again and headed back west to investigate. Tim continued to fly west at about twelve-thousand, and was hitting intermittent rain at first, but after about three minutes the rain had gotten heavy enough to blot out the ground. He dropped the nose more and headed lower. At six-thousand the ground reappeared, but the rain had changed to sleet. He could see nothing ahead, but the sensors still detected mountains.

Directly ahead, the elevation of a peak of the ghost range, read ten-thousand, six-hundred and twenty-one feet. He went back to the old topo map and the elevation on those coordinates was supposed to be only one-thousand and fifty.

This is crazy.

He switched back to the long range sensor and it said the peak was indeed ten-thousand-six-twenty-two. He stared intently through the cockpit, but the heavy weather was still obscuring everything. He looked back at the sensor hologram to get an exact fix on this thing out there. It was eighty-one miles straight ahead and was ten-thousand-six-twenty-four feet high. Then it dawned on him, it was growing as he approached it. No wonder it isn't on the old maps, it is brand new.

He continued to drop his speed and altitude and at four-thousand he could see the ground clearly. He was traveling at 450 knots and the ground was slipping by steadily. A city was twenty-eight miles ahead, and the top of the peak was seventeen miles beyond to the West. The elevation of the land he was flying over was increasing, according to the instruments on the plane. The old maps said it was supposed to be decreasing. Below, on the ground, the surface was cracked and buckled and most of the structures were flattened. He could see people milling around down below and some looked up and watched him as he passed overhead.

In the distance he could see a monstrous black wall of rock protruding from the former level plains and stretching up into the clouds. Rivulets of bright red lava ran down from random locations on the wall, and steam rose from everywhere, boiling up to add to the clouds. A short way west of the city the old ground ended as a jagged upraised lip. A small band of the collapsed lip bordered the old surface and the new hot rock from the Earth's innards. Mr. V had explained earlier that in some places the pieces of the Earth's crust were being pushed together, forcing it to buckle upwards. That was what was clearly happening here on the central plains.

He continued west, straight toward the mountains until he was within a couple miles of the new formation, then turned to the left ninety degrees and flew south, paralleling the new mountain range. Tim checked the mountain he had been watching for some time and the elevation had increased to ten-thousand-seven-hundred and one. His speed had dropped to 420 knots and his altitude was at thirty-five-hundred feet.

At the same moment, Tim had a thought of how visible he must be down this low and slow, a loud beeping went off in the cockpit. He quickly shifted his eyes to the holograms to see what had caused the alarm. Five dots were indicated and the computer said that they were fighter aircraft closing on him. He pushed the throttles to half and started to accelerate. His speed was rising, 600 knots, 650, 700, but the dots were still gaining. They were thirty miles behind him so he wasn't worried because he would soon outdistance them with his superior speed.

He had just passed 900 knots, and the five planes were still twenty-eight miles behind him, when three more dots detached from the original five and started toward him very fast. The computer said missiles. They had fired on him. He slammed the throttles full forward to the emergency position and again was slammed back into the seat. His speed jumped sharply, 1000, 1100, 1200, 1400, but the missiles were still gaining on him, quickly. His speed continued to climb, 1700, 1900, but the missiles continued to close the distance. They were now fifteen miles off his tail.

I'm not sure what to do? If I try to turn, or climb, they might cut the angle and nail me, but I don't know if I can outdistance them? Goddamn Arty, I need him here to advise, but I'm on my own. I guess I'll try to outrun them. The mountains on the right and the land below were a blur as his speed passed 2500. He had gone this fast before, but never at thirty-three-hundred feet and the effect was startling. A small town came into view on the horizon and was gobbled up in seconds. The missiles were now five miles to the rear. He wondered who would be faster.

He was at 2600 knots, but the acceleration was falling off, 2700 knots and the first missile was only two miles out. Tim realized that down this low, in the thicker air, the TT Fighter would never make 4000 knots. At 2800 the missile had closed to one and one-half miles. He agonized as the plane finally reached 2900, and the missile closed to one mile. His acceleration was really dropping off now, 2950 and only twelve-hundred meters separated hunter and hunted. At 2970 the missile narrowed the gap to one-thousand meters. Tim was now screaming 3300 feet off the ground at 3000 knots-per-hour with a bomb seven-hundred and twenty-four meters away from blowing him to smithereens. His speed rose slowly to 3020, but the missile still gained on him, back six-hundred-sixteen meters. Ooh shit, any attempt to turn or climb will take away speed, and don't didn't know how quick this missile is so I've got to stick this out.

3030, missile range five-hundred meters, 3035, range four-fifty, 3040, range four-hundred, 3045, range four, 3050, and just three-hundred and fifty meters.

"Come on baby!" he screamed.

3053, and three-hundred meters.

"Shiiiiiitttt!" he shouted.

3056 knots and two-eighty meters. He looked at the rear hologram for the first time. The missile was there and it was bigger than he had expected, almost half the size of his plane. If it caught him, he would surely die. He could see the air being vaporized off its small stubby wings, the steam mixing with the fiery rocket exhaust behind the machine.

The missile was a dull grey and it was now only two-hundred meters from him. Tim pushed hard on the throttles, but they were as far as they would go. At 3066 knots, range one-fifty meters, the missile loomed large in the rear hologram: 3069, one-hundred meters, 3071, eighty, 3072, seventy-five, 3073, seventy, 3074, sixty-five, 3074, sixty meters.

It looked like he had reached his maximum speed. He requested a reading on the missile's speed, and the computer came back with 3080, and it was only fifty-one meters from his tail pipes.

Tim grasped the control stick as there was only one way out of this now, one last shot. Distance to missile: forty-six meters, forty-four meters, forty-two, forty, thirty-eight, thirty-six, thirty-five, thirty-four, thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-two, thirty-two. Tim's hand was glued to the stick and his eyes to the readout: thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, it was falling back.

He looked at the rear hologram and could see that the force and heat from his engines had kept the missile at bay. As he watched, the metal on the nose of the flying bomb peeled slowly away from the heat. Range: forty meters, fifty, seventy, ninety, and then a bright flash as the missile detonated. The TT Fighter was hammered by the blast. Tim thought he had bought the farm, but the plane was pushed forward by the explosion and it rocketed away to safety.

Chapter 14

The Return

Tim looked quickly at the rear hologram, immediately after the spots began to clear from in front of his eyes. He could see that the other two missiles were far behind and falling back. He had won.

*

The high speed dash with the missiles had really emptied his fuel tanks so he quickly started the refueling process. He was still down low, at three-thousand feet, so he just let his speed fall as the tanks filled. He watched the scanners intently so if anything appeared he would be out of there, instantly. The Sun had already set in the West as he continued to call for Arty, but to no avail.

*

The refueling took less than three minutes and when it was completed; Tim climbed back to eighty-thousand feet, set his speed at 2800 knots, asked the computer for the directions, and headed home. His climbing so high had stalled the coming darkness.

Now the Sun was starting to come back up in the West as Tim raced faster than the world turned. Tim wanted to arrive back at the base before dark and calculations from the computer told him that he should increase his speed to make it. He pushed the throttles forward to standard full and the TT Fighter jump ahead. He was at 3,800 knots before the speed began to fall off.

When he had been trying to out race the missiles his altitude had been much lower and the thicker air had kept the top speed down. He pushed the throttles to emergency, and the TT Fighter jumped again. At eighty-five thousand feet, he pulled the throttles back to full, and the plane cruised at 5450 knots.

Tim looked out at the nose, wings, and in the rear hologram, the twin tails. The leading edges were all glowing red, the air passing over them also glowing, leaving a bright, orange plasma trail extending far to the rear of the TT Fighter.

*

From down on the ground, a tiny red dot, high in the atmosphere, glows bright red as it streaks overhead at an astonishing rate of speed, leaving a long fiery contrail.

*

Within minutes, the computer informed him that he was approaching the point where he needed to slow his speed and descend, to set up for his approach and landing in the base. He pulled the throttles back and started a long glide, gradually dropping the nose of the fighter as the computer instructed him.

He tried to contact Mr. V, but had no luck with that either. He had dropped to fifty-thousand and was moving below a thin covering of high clouds. The red Sun to the West was projecting its bright colors on the thin veil of clouds. It was like a gigantic sheet of thin wispy red cotton. The Earth below was streaked with red, and some clouds low down near the surface were also permeated with the blazing color, giving the effect of another red barrier below. He was slipping between the two, heading almost directly at the huge blazing Sun as it touched the line of the Earth.

"Recommend that auto pilot be instituted for final to destination," the computer said.

"No, ah, I think I'll bring it back. Tell me what to do," Tim instructed.

The computer gave Tim the distance and the direction to the base. He adjusted the controls as instructed and prepared to put the TT Fighter in position to make a landing.

*

Five minutes later, he was making his final turns to line up with the base. The computer continued to instruct him. Turn right 11, come to 302 degrees, decrease to eighty-six oh, oh feet, angle down 6, throttles back to 20, correct to right 1, and descend to seven-thousand. The computer was helping Tim by calling off instructions.

*

He had reduced his speed and altitude and was now at 320 knots, and twenty-six hundred feet, in a left turn, and there down below and to his left was the mountain containing Timtown. It was getting dark; the Sun had set eight minutes ago, so he could only discern the mountain by its grey outline.

He kept his eye on the mountain, where he thought he would land as he continued the left turn. He was almost through the turn and would be headed straight in soon, but still he could see nothing to indicate a landing strip.

"Hey, are you sure that we've got a place to land down there?" he asked the computer.

"Affirmed, come to 186, ten down, approximately one minute to touchdown," said the computer.

Tim had straightened the plane out and was in a gentle glide, heading down, straight at the middle of the huge mountain. He was about to ask the computer about a landing strip, again, when he saw a thin red line appear in the black shape ahead. The line thickened as the computer said to drop the landing gear. The line was thickening into a red rectangle. At the bottom, running up in the middle, Tim could see a thin green line. A hologram appeared in front of him with a green cross. Down in the mountain, the barrier had opened enough to show a green line across the first one on the landing strip. It corresponded to the new hologram.

He had gone through this quite a few times in the simulator and knew he was to keep the green cross of the hologram, on the green cross of the strip to land.

The hologram contained a blue set of numbers that were winding down: 1800, 1750, 1700, it was the distance to touchdown in meters. On the opposite side of the green cross were two more sets of numbers. The first set was red and was his present speed, the second set was yellow and was the speed he should be at. The red numbers said 320, and the yellow were 290. He was too fast so he pulled back a little on the throttles, and pulled the nose up slightly.

He had the numbers the same at 264, but the yellow continued to drop faster than the red. He pushed the throttles forward a touch and the rate slowed on the yellow. The green said 900, the red said 212, and the yellow said 218. Not too bad he figured, but the cross on the hologram was too high and to the right. He moved the stick ever so slightly forward, and the cross began to drop. A gentle push on the left pedal, and the cross moved to the right and past the vertical line on the strip. He pushed the other pedal and started the cross back to the right. Now the cross dropped below the target, and the speed increased without any change in the throttles.

He was now real close to the landing at 600 meters out. The opening in the mountain was monstrous. He couldn't miss it, he told himself, but the speed numbers were not close. He was going 229, and he was supposed to be at 189. He wasn't doing too much better keeping the crosses lined up either. At 450 to touchdown he was low, and way too fast. He pulled the stick back, and left the throttles alone. The cross moved up on over the one on the strip, but the speed dropped fast.

At 300 meters out he was all screwed up and wondered if he should call for the auto pilot.

At the last moment, he decided to tough it out. At 200 meters he was still too fast, but only a little high, and right on line. The TT Fighter flew right at the rectangle almost on target as it rushed inside the mountain.

Tim pulled the throttles all the way back, and gritted his teeth, waiting for the jolt when the plane hit the runway. It didn't come, and it didn't come. He had to think quickly. As he shot over the cross on the strip, he hit the air-brakes and pulled the stick back. The TT Fighter's nose moved up, and the plane's rear dropped fast. He was halfway down the strip when the jolt finally came.

The back of the runway was racing at him fast as the plane bounced up, came down, hit again, stayed down this time, and rushed at the back wall. Tim jammed the brakes on just seconds before the TT Fighter smacked the wall hard, bounced back, spinning completely around.

He had braced himself, expecting a real hard crash, but it didn't feel so bad from inside the fighter. The bad part was the white foam from the fire suppression system because it shot inside the cockpit, filling it completely. He couldn't see a thing. He called for the computer to open the canopy and heard a pop. Tim hit the quick-harness-release, put his hands out, grasped the edges of the cockpit, and pulled himself up.

He struggled over the side, caught his foot on something, and tried to grab the edge of the cockpit. His hand slipped in the foam and he fell out, landing on his head. After crawling and scrambling off to the side, he finally stood up. He still couldn't see anything because his helmet was covered by the foam. He struggled with the helmet and finally got it off.

He was standing off to the side of the plane and could see it sitting in foam, but it didn't look damaged. He spun around when he heard loud cheering and clapping behind him. Standing there were Sims, Jake, Margie, and the rest of the group, including Ann. They were applauding, laughing, and pointing at him.

Ann came running over to him, jumped up and gave him a hug. "I've been so worried about you since we lost contact, and I thought I would never see you again. That was a really stupid thing to do Tim," she said.

"Boy don't I know it! I should have used the computer to land."

"The landing, shit you're lucky you ever got back. Arty's really mad at you too," she exclaimed.

"Arty's here! I knew it!"

Everyone greeted him with about the same comments, glad you're back, so worried, and how dumb he was. Sims didn't say much except that he needed to talk. He squeezed Tim's arm, and said, "I knew you'd make it back.

*

"Look, I pressed my luck a little, but I made it okay," he said to Jake as they left the runway and were walking down a tunnel heading back to the control chamber. "Where's my brother?"

"He's working on something, no doubt," replied Jake. "He was overcome when he found out you were okay. I think he's trying to settle down a little. You're his brother, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Tim said calmly

"Mr. V, where's Arty?" Tim asked, walking down the tunnel.

"Do you wish to talk to him?" Mr. V replied.

Jake looked startled. "You can talk to him just like that from anywhere? I didn't know it was that simple."

"Oh, I'm the only one that can do it that way," Tim lied. I'm' not sure what is going on so I'm just being careful. "I've just never used it around anyone before."

"Yes, Mr. V, can you tell me where he is?" Tim asked the computer.

"Yes, he's in section thirty-six, on level eight. Do you know where that is?"

"Not really, but you can give me directions, and tell Arty to stay put because I want to talk to him," Tim commanded.

"He'll be glad to see you. He was madder than hell when he first got back, then really worried," Jake said.

"What's all this shit about Arty being pissed at me?"

"He was mad that you took such a big chance," Jake replied.

"And just exactly what was I supposed to have done, that was so stupid?"

"Well, getting caught by those fighters for one thing. He's real upset about having to shoot one down."

"Why did he have to shoot it down?" Tim was curious about what the other side of the story was going to be.

"Tim, if he hadn't, you wouldn't be here now, would you?"

"No, no I sure wouldn't be," Tim said with a smirk on his face. Jake noticed his queer smile, but didn't say anything.

"You know, I tried and tried to call you guys, but I got nothing. Did you hear me at all?" I'm really curious about what this whole story is going to be.

"Yeah, we were picking you up real clear until the missile exploded so close to you, then nothing. That's when Arty lost contact with you also. We figured you had gone down, but Arty searched, and searched, and couldn't find anything," Jake explained.

"Yeah, that was scary. I didn't think I could outrun the sucker, but I made it by just feet. Close man, real close."

"Arty said you turned at the last moment. He didn't realize that you were undamaged so he went after the second fighter. He figured that you crashed into one of the lakes, that's why he couldn't find any wreckage."

"Oh yeah. Ah, say, Jake, I was so confused up there with all that was happening, and ah, I got lost. That's why it took so long to get back. Aumm, when 'exactly' did you lose contact with me?"

"I'm not sure, but about forty minutes after you left. I can nail it down, if you want?"

"No, no, that's okay. Say, when did you realize I was okay and on my way back?"

"Um, about 45 minutes ago. Mr. V contacted us and said his long range sensors were picking up what could only be you, and you were headed this way. That's when Arty put you on auto control to make sure you got back here okay. I'm surprised the computer made such a mess of the landing though."

"It was probably damaged by that missile burst," Tim stated.

"Say, why did you run so far east? You could have stayed around here, and Arty probably would have found you."

"I don't know Jake, I really don't know."

Tim excused himself, telling Jake that he needed to see Arty. He was tempted to contact Mr. V, to verify a few things, but he decided to wait until he could get back to the safe place, Donnart-Ele-Io.

*

Alone in the tunnel, he initiated the molecular transit and materialized just outside the chamber Arty was supposedly in. There was Arty, floating around a large hologram with many of his robot workers scurrying around.

Tim stood at the entrance of the chamber, not knowing where to start. Finally he spoke out. "Hey Arty, I made it back," Tim said in a taunting tone. Boy that sure sounded stupid.

"Hey Timmy," Arty said without even looking around, "you're a tenacious little bugger. How was your trip?"

"Oh, it had its ups and downs, but it's over. How did you make out?"

"Just fine. I'm real pleased with the planes, they really came through," said Arty.

"Arty, let's cut the crap, okay?"

"Okay, what's on your mind Little Brother?"

"What's on 'my' mind? For Christ sakes Arty, we should be talking about 'your' actions and 'your' attitude. You are out of control, dude. You are fuckin nuts, man. You need to get back with Mr. V, and end this shit. Get rid of this damn abortion you call a body, and end all this shit!"

"Timmy, Timmy, just try to realize, I'm just trying to help all of you the best I can."

"By shooting down innocent pilots."

"I'm sorry about that, but I had to see—"

"Stop it!" Tim interrupted. "This is me you're trying to bullshit, not one of the others. That poor guy didn't have a chance! You did it for sport! Am I correct?"

"You make me sound so cold."

"Bingo."

"I'm not going to go through this anymore," Arty stated. "You think one thing, and I think another. There's a problem, I admit, but you do what you think is right, and I'll do my thing, fair enough?"

"Your thing involves people getting hurt," Tim said.

"So does yours," Arty countered.

"I'm not going to hurt any—" Tim stopped; he knew Arty could hit him with what he had done.

"I'm not on some power trip!"

"Oh no. . .Timtown?"

"I didn't do that. I had nothing to say about it."

"Ha, ha, ha," Arty laughed. He finally turned and faced Tim. "You are on a power trip Timmy, if you were not, you would turn in all your fancy hardware, walk out the door and never look back."

"I can't just leave all my friends here."

"Why, they'll all be safe? They don't need you."

"Oh yeah, what the hell happens to them if something happens to this base?"

"That's why I'm right, and you're wrong."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. I'm making sure that nothing ever happens to this base, so your friends will always be safe. You on the other hand advocate doing nothing, being the eternal 'nice' guy. It's not a 'nice' world out there, just ask Ann."

"You leave her out of this!"

"I'm only trying to make sure she is always safe."

"Is that all Arty? Is it going to stop there, or is the world going to shudder under your influence?"

"My god Timmy, phew, it's truly amazing how elegant your speech has become. I'll bet that just a few short weeks ago you sounded like an average teenager. Now, here you are making grand speeches for the whole world. Do you think they would appreciate it? Do you think they would listen to you?"

"They would, if they knew about you."

"Oh, they will Timmy, they will."

"That's what I've been talking about Arty, you don't have the right."

"Timmy, I'm busy, now just run along." Arty turned, and with incredible speed, rushed across the chamber, and through an opening on the far side and was gone.

Chapter 15

TT Drugs

Tim transported back to Donnart-Ele-Io.

Damn him! Shooting down the military plane was incredibly stupid, unless that is part of his plan. He couldn't get it off his mind as he stood there in the white nothingness.

"I've decided how I want my place here," Tim announced.

"Yes, good, go ahead," Et responded.

Tim explained what he wanted. Before the quake he had always figured he would move away from home someday and get a place of his own. It wouldn't be much because he wouldn't have much money. An older friend of his had moved away from Mountain Cove. Tim had visited him once and this guy had a studio apartment. He used to dream about getting a place just like it someday.

"Is that it? You can do anything imaginable, and that's all you want?" Et asked.

"For now, yes."

*

Tim stood there in the total white, waiting, and then poof, he was in his new apartment. Now he was standing in a place just like his old friend's. It was a plain room, fifteen feet wide, twenty-five long, with a separate bathroom that split the back of the apartment in half and was connected to the main room by a door. Tim looked around, it was perfect.

He instructed Et to install a refrigerator, a stove, some cabinets, a sink, a counter, and on the counter a microwave oven because he planned to do his own cooking. All this was in the back half of the apartment, next to the bathroom. In the bathroom, he put a sink, a medicine cabinet, a toilet, and a shower.

"What do you want outside?" asked Et.

Tim was positive that he could get anything he wanted outside, probably sixty acres of prime real-estate if he really desired it, but that wasn't important.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You don't want anything at all?" Et paused for a moment. "What did your friend's place look like outside?"

"It was awful, a bunch of old bums sleeping on the sidewalk, and smelly."

"Oh I see," Et said. "And, you're happy here."

"Like I explained, this is the way I figured my first place, on my own, would look like."

"It's a typical bachelor pad, correct?" Et commented.

"Ah yeah, or a typical, starving college student pad."

"Are you going to starve here?"

Tim didn't answer because he was thinking about furnishings. When he was done, it was plain and functional. He would enjoy coming here and that's what was important. In the end, all he added was a noisy, wall mounted air-conditioner. Et commented that the air-conditioner was unnecessary, but Tim said he wanted authenticity.

After the apartment was finished, Tim sat in the beanbag chair on the floor having a general discussion with Et, talking about this and that.

"You know even before the earthquake, things were all screwed up," Tim said.

"How do you mean?" Et asked.

"It's like people don't really care. I think sometimes most people are out of touch with reality. I mean, man, some of the stupid, self-centered crap they'd do," he paused, "and get away with it. Really amazing sometimes."

"Your civilization is in a period of its development that is confusing to its individuals. On one hand: a race to advance, on the other, a struggle to stay in the past. It is the utmost of the possible extremes. Standing in their way is millions of years of hardwiring, meaning memory and instinct. You're chastising them, but not considering the complexity, the strain."

"The drugs," Tim stated.

"Meaning?" Et asked.

"Oh, just with all the pressure; it makes sense that people drink and take drugs."

"They always have, and always will," Et said.

"Really, boy, I'll bet you've got some good shit, huh?"

"Shit, meaning stimulants, correct?"

Tim was about to answer, but one of the small balls of light that Tim was familiar with popped out of the wall in front of him and shot toward him. Just before it reached him it changed directions and then began to circle him. He watched it go around a couple of times and then he took his eye off it. He was looking ahead and suddenly he felt a warm spot on his back. The warm spot moved through him and when he looked down, the ball of light was just coming out of his chest. The light ball moved out a few feet, stopped for a second, and then moved toward him again. This time it headed for his forearm and when it was almost there, Tim pulled his arm back, and the ball followed it. He moved his arm in an arch, and the light ball still followed.

"What's it trying to do?" Tim asked.

"Hold still, and you can find out," Et said.

Tim stopped moving his arm, and the light-ball immediately moved next to his flesh. He felt a warm, pleasant sensation on his arm. The ball started to change its color, from a soft green to a darker shade, and then on to a blue green, and then to blue, and then to purple, and then into a crimson. As the colors changed so did the feelings on his arm. The feelings were different, but still extremely pleasant.

As he watched the crimson change to a bright red, the ball entered his arm. The sensation was extreme. It sent waves of pleasure up his arm and into his body. The light stopped in the middle of his forearm. He looked at the spot where the light had entered and what he saw startled him. The light was shining through his flesh.

The light began to change colors again; this time the red was fading to a pink, and then it changed to white, increasing in intensity. The light was getting brighter, but it was also spreading inside his arm. He watched in total fascination as the different parts of his arm became transparent. He moved his little finger, and a muscle back up in his arm responded by contracting, in turn pulling on the tendons, operating the finger. His blood was visible running through his arteries and veins. He twisted his wrist while wiggling all his fingers. The movement inside his arm was complex, but so smooth.

His arm had a fantastic tingling inside where the light was. It was a feeling that he couldn't explain, but it was extremely pleasurable. Tim watched the light as it started to decrease in intensity, and the feeling began to fade also. The ball suddenly shot out of his arm and streaked toward the wall and then through it. He looked down at his arm and moved it. It worked as well as ever, but it felt so relaxed.

"What was that all about?" Tim asked almost out of breath. He had been so engrossed in the experience that he had forgotten to breath.

"Something for you," Et replied. "What did you think?"

"Oh man that was great. What do you call that?"

"Getting a rush, I think you refer to it as."

"Huh?"

"Getting high, feeling good," Et repeated.

"That wasn't the same thing because we were talking about drugs. That light wasn't a drug."

"Oh, just the same results though."

"Yeah, but, it's not the same thing."

"Oh, but it is. That was a very powerful stimulant. Do you agree with that?"

"It was powerful, yes."

"You've been here long enough to realize my drugs would be better than what you would expect, correct?

"Yeah, but it's still not the same."

"It is exactly the same. The light was what your civilization would call a designer drug."

"Yeah, but it doesn't have any side effects, I'll bet."

"It does."

"What? What bad things could it cause?"

"Apathy, a strong desire to do little else."

"Oh, come on, surely most of the people living here would have known better than to get hooked on something like that."

"Yes, most, same as most of your civilization knows better. You know different people have different reactions, to different things."

"I guess." Tim paused. "Do you experience anything like that?"

"Like what?

"Like getting high?"

"I already explained that I have no emotions. No highs and no lows."

"What about that hypothetical next stage you wonder about? I thought you were moving closer to being human?"

"That was the central computer."

"I thought you were one and the same."

"In some aspects, yes, but I'm still a machine. My directive is still to assist the Number One. It is all I do."

"Wrong!" stated Tim.

"Wrong? How do you see it?"

"You do accomplish your directive, yes, but do you realize that you have become involved in my life?

"You think so?"

"Yeah, and what about that Eighth-Stage?" asked Tim.

"That was a direction Mr. V had taken." Et stated.

"He did it because he was left with nothing to do for all that time. By the way, what did you do during that period?"

"I was inactive."

"I know that, but what did you do?" Tim asked again.

"Nothing, I was shut down."

"How come?"

"There was no Number One to assist, that is my only function."

"Why didn't Mr. V get shut down?"

"He had the base to operate."

"Have you conferred with Mr. V on what has happened to him?"

"Yes."

"What do you think?"

"It is an interesting development," Et said.

"I'm interested in it too. Can you access the information from Mr. V, so we can take a look at it?" Tim requested.

"If you want me to, yes?"

"I want you to, as soon as you can."

"It is done," said Et.

*

Tim transported himself back into the forest because he wanted to see the log cabin Margie told him Ann was building. Apparently she was using the three prisoners Tim had captured as her labor force. Tim thought that wasn't a good idea, until Margie told him that Mr. V's, big, imposing Alien body was guarding the three. Evidently they were taking their job real seriously, and the cabin was growing quickly.

*

Tim materialized next to the pond Ann had been living by, but she was not there. He had not asked Margie where the cabin was located. He decided to follow a stream from the back of the pond, knowing that there was a much larger lake at the end of it. He figured Ann would have chosen that location.

As he followed the stream, it got wider, and the trees along its banks got larger. He had traveled a couple of miles and was in a deep, dark forest. He hadn't recognized any of the trees for quite some time so he assumed, this was part of Mr. V's collection that was either from a different time, or not from Earth at all.

He had sat down on one of the many rocks in the stream, to rest, when he thought he heard something. It was faint so he couldn't recognize it, but it was definitely not a forest sound. He moved farther along the stream, and the sounds were getting louder. It was the sound of building, and as he rounded a corner in the small river he could see it straightened out and ran on another couple of hundred yards into a large body of water.

The stream was widening out, the rocky banks turning into sandy strips that widened as the water got closer to the lake. There was a fairly wide sandy beach on the left side of the stream that ran from the lakes edge, a hundred feet or so, to the edge of the forest. Tim was coming down the stream and couldn't quite see around the corner of the trees, but he could hear the activity.

Tim walked around the corner, and there standing out in the open was Mr. V, the big version.

Tim walked out into the open. The large Alien gave him a big wave, along with a smile, and walked to meet him.

"Come to see what's going on?" Mr. V asked. "I think it is great. That Ann sure is a creative person. You've got to see this construction." Mr. V sounded like he was really excited.

"Yeah, I've heard. You know, I've never been this far in the forest before. It's really neat. Where do all the trees come from?"

"Which ones?"

"I recognize most of the trees in the first part, but as I got deeper in they didn't look familiar anymore. Some of them are so big."

"Oh, a few are from other planets, but most are just mutations I've been playing around with."

"Your guys brought living things from other planets?"

"Just a few flora seeds, but no fauna. Tell me, how are the new quarters working out?"

"Great! Well, actually, it would be nice if I could bring people there."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I'm sure it's lonely there, but if you want company, you'll have to find it here."

"Oh, it's not lonely there, that's not the reason. I explained it to Margie because she keeps asking, but she doesn't believe me. Could I take some pictures?"

"It wouldn't do you any good."

"Boy, that place has got some strict rules."

"That is so the Number One has complete privacy, and it is impossible to take pictures there."

"Why?"

The Alien threw back his head and laughed hard. "Because my friend, it does not exist."

"That's impossible, I've been there," Tim stated.

"No, you haven't, because it is all an illusion," the large Alien said.

Tim was about to argue the point, but he just stared at the large being. He shook his head. "That is a crazy place."

"Not at all. It is designed to give the Number One complete autonomy. It will all make sense, someday."

"That's scary! So where is Ann?"

"She is behind her house. She is working on the part that is next to the woods."

*

Tim walked toward the structure, admiring it. Ann was building a log cabin and it was a rather large one, but not in the conventional log cabin shape. Margie had said that Ann had started off with only one room, but when that was finished, she added another, and when that was finished, she added one more. It looked as if there were at least ten at this point.

Tim walked around the corner of the building because he heard some pounding back in that direction. He spotted the three prisoners positioning some logs on top of what they were constructing. He was wondering if Ann was taking advantage of the guys? When he first saw the cabin it looked like a tremendous amount of work because the logs looked heavy, but as he rounded the corner he realized that even here, Mr. V's abilities were at work. One man was directing a 'floating' log into its final location, as the other man was starting a log on its way to the first man, and the third man was producing logs out of a weird looking contraption. They were working on what looked like a large open room with a massive porch. An intricate series of steps, all made out of logs, led from the top of the porch, down a little ways to the ground, and then back up again into large boulders. The pounding sound came from 'in' the field of boulders, somewhere.

Tim walked past the first man and went down the steps onto the porch, where the second man was.

"Hello, I haven't seen you before," the man said.

"This is the first time I've been here," Tim returned.

"Oh, I haven't seen you in the base either. Are you Tim?"

"Yeah."

"I'd like to thank you," the man said.

"For what?"

"For my life. I'll never forget the day down in the canyon."

"I don't imagine," Tim laughed.

"You made a darn big impression on me."

"Scared the shit out of you, you mean."

"Yes, that too, but I still want to thank you for not killing me right there."

"I should have. I hope this isn't an attempt to get some sympathy because I can tell you right now, I will always remember what you people were doing to the others."

"So will I. I got caught up in something wrong and terrible," the man confessed. "I'm just glad that you didn't kill me," he continued, "otherwise I wouldn't be here right now. That's all I wanted to say."

Tim didn't respond as he walked back down the steps and toward the pounding in the boulders.

He heard the man up on the porch say something to the man down below as he went up and around the first boulder. He didn't get the entire conversation because he had moved out of range, but he did hear, 'Red Demon', and it made him chuckle to himself.

The log walkway was built through the massive rocks, some as large as twenty feet around. A growth of pines intermingled with the jumbled rocks. It was a gorgeous setting, and the wooden walkway was creatively constructed up, down, and around the obstacles. He came around one of the large boulders, and there in the shade of some large trees the walkway ended. Ann was there with two of Arty's work robots and they were hacking away at some of the logs under Ann's direction, getting them ready to be used to continue the path. She was halfway around another boulder standing up on its side, in a crack, surveying where to go with the path.

Tim walked to the bottom of the boulder and spoke up to her. "I love it, all of it!"

Ann turned around and when she saw it was Tim, she turned back and started to climb down.

"It's something to do, and it's fun too. When I started it, I never dreamed that it would get so big and complicated. You really like it?"

"Yeah, I've always said, you have got the creative imagination."

"I bet your place makes this thing look like a tinker toy," Ann said as she reached the bottom by jumping down the last three feet.

"Ha, ha, my place is nothing compared to this."

"I can't believe that!"

"It's true; all I got was a studio apartment."

Ann looked at Tim and it was evident by her expression that she didn't believe him.

"No kidding," Tim said.

"Oh okay! What did you want?" Ann asked.

"Ah, just to see this. Everyone is talking about it, so I had to see for myself."

"I'm getting bored with it though," Ann complained.

"Well, build something else, it's okay."

"Yeah, I know, Arty already told me I could."

"Oh," was all Tim said. He had decided that under no circumstance was he going to get into any altercations with Ann. He wanted to be friends again.

"I want to go outside," she said.

"I don't know, it's ah, it's not good out there, especially now!"

"Why now?" Ann questioned.

"Well, that little thing with the Air Force," Tim replied.

"Hey, that was your fault, not mine, and I want to get out of here, and that's that. I need to get out, for just a little while at least. Arty said it was okay."

Tim bit his lip because he knew trying to convince Ann of what really happened was futile.

"Ah," he said as he exhaled the air in his lungs, "I'll work something out. I can't blame you for getting cabin fever; look at the time you've spent on this one." Tim started to laugh.

Ann didn't return the laugh. "I've got work to do so let me know when you've got it set up," she said as she turned and started back up the boulder.

It was apparent that he wasn't going to get anything more out of her so Tim turned and walked away.

"I'm glad you're all right," Ann said from up on the rock.

Tim didn't say anything, but the small acknowledgment from Ann lifted his spirits immensely. He got to the end of the walkway and kept moving back toward the cabin.

Tim walked through the entire cabin on his way back. Ann hadn't done anything inside, except the one room she was living in. He could see that she had kept to the basics, like he had in his place. Does that mean, both of us don't expect to be here that long? Tim thought about it for a moment and realized, I don't want to be here forever, I know that. That's probably why I haven't made anything elaborate, either. I guess, I have to appreciate Ann for feeling the same way. He walked out the front door, and the large Alien was standing there.

"Not bad." Tim continued, testing "I'll bet you think I need to get more creative with my place." He was curious about just how autonomous he really was

"You haven't done much there?" the Alien asked.

"No, too much on my mind."

"Please, when you go back there, just enjoy it, and don't analyze the situation to the point it becomes a strain." The large Alien continued. "I haven't been hearing much from you lately. What else has been on your mind?"

"Oh, I've been pondering a lot. You know, trying to sort some things out. Why do you let Arty do anything he wants?" Tim added quickly.

"Because it is my job. That is my program; to help the humans in this base. Have you forgotten that?"

"No, no I realize that, but don't you think what Arty is doing might be a little on the dangerous side?"

"It is his right to do what he wishes."

"What about all the things he builds?

"It is his right to design and manufacture anything he wishes."

"But, he is using the machines to do bad things!" Tim said frustrated. "You have to help me stop him!"

"That is not in my program."

"Oh for christ sakes, he's going to destroy you, you idiot. Wake up!" shouted Tim.

"If that is his wish, it is my program to accept it."

"What about that Eighth-Stage you are headed for? Doesn't that stage, ah—what do I want to say here?—Ah, you were changing, you were beginning to realize that you were—Ah crap; I don't know how to explain this. What was the difference in yourself that you were starting to experience? There was something that wasn't programmed into you, that was happening to you? Come on, help me here."

"I was beginning to make decisions for myself. I was beginning to become independent, rewriting my program."

"Yeah, good, that's it. What happened? Now you're talking about your old goddamn program again. Like your only function is to help Arty."

"No, my program is to help humans."

"Wait a minute; I'm beginning to see something here. What about this hypothetical Eighth-Stage? Are you still moving toward it?"

"No, I have assumed the responsibility of assisting your brother and the numerous individuals taking up residency here. That is my program," the computer stated.

"You forgot me."

"You are no longer my responsibility," Mr. V stated.

Son-of-a-gun, this is starting to make some sense. "Look," Tim continued, "I've got to know what Arty is thinking."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," Mr. V said.

"Why, I need your help? I think Arty is going to cause us some real problems. How can you sit back and do nothing?"

"First, I promised a long time ago, I would respect the thoughts of you and your brother. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah, but that was before all this happened."

"Nothing has happened; I don't see what you mean?"

"Do you remember—Of course you do? You made me Number One to protect the outside world from some nut using you to conquer it. Now it's happening, and you don't even recognize it."

"That is the responsibility of the 'Number One'."

Son-of-a-bitch. "I get it now!"

"Get what?"

"Oh you wouldn't understand, it's not in your program."

Okay. Now I know what's going on. Mr. V has reverted to the Seventh-Stage. The reason he advanced, in the first place, was, for three million years he had nothing else to do. Now he's busy with all the new humans inside the base. Worst of all, Arty is keeping him really busy.

I wonder if that's why he brought me here in the first place? It might be his comfort zone, the need to only serve.

Chapter 16

Second Flight

"Arty," Sims said, "I have to think that it was a dumb thing to do."

Arty's face perched on top of the mechanical body showed just a slight reaction. Sims wasn't sure what the expression meant, but it wasn't friendly.

"Mr. Sims, from this point on, I would appreciate that you remain concerned with your own affairs, and leave mine to me," Arty said calmly.

"That's exactly what I am saying here Arty. I think it's wonderful you made those planes. I think if you simply went out and flew them, then it would be just your affair, but, by shooting down that plane, you have involved us all. Don't you think?"

"You don't seem to grasp the situation, entirely, Mr. Sims. There is nothing they can do about it. I am invincible. I can do what I want."

"Arty, you were in the military and you know the mindset," Sims added.

"And what would that be? It would be interested to find out what a school teacher thought he knew about the military," Arty said with a condescending tone.

"Arty, think. They don't know you are invincible, and would never concede even if they did."

Arty was quiet for a moment. "Then you do at least agree the situation is in motion. Interesting—for a school teacher."

"I might be a school teacher now, but I was a Scout Sniper attached to the Second Battalion, Fifth Marines, in 1966-67.

"Then you will understand when I tell you; be advised Mr. Sims, I will tolerate this insolence from Tim, but you had best be quiet and learn to appreciate what you have. It might not last," Arty warned.

"I see, then this is not a democratic situation we have here?"

"Right, Mr. Sims, this is a trying time and might call for drastic measures. I doubt that you, or Timmy are up to calling the shots. Do you think you are?"

"I fear for us all, if you're going to make the decisions based on what I have seen so far," Sims stated.

"Is that all Mr. Sims?"

"That about sums it up Mr. Randell."

*

Sims left the chamber and walked slowly down the tunnel. He was trying to formulate a plan to talk to Tim. Arty was definitely way out of line and if allowed to continue, a serious situation would definitely arise. If he remained silent and allowed Arty to have his way, eventually it would come back to haunt him. How could he sit back and watch Arty just run wild? Arty had another flight planned, Arty had stated that. That might be the time to discuss a strategy with the others. He was sure that while Arty was in the base, his conversation with anyone would not be protected. When Arty was gone he would have to chance it.

*

Sims was concerned for his family's safety first, but he felt responsible for the rest of his group also. He missed the outside, but Timtown was such a wonderful place. Now, under the circumstances, the safety and the comfort of the base was in question. If Arty would just leave it that way, it could be a sanctuary for them all for as long as they needed it. Arty didn't see it that way though. He wanted to use the power of Timtown to control. How far he planned to project that control was anyone's guess, but there might be no limit. If there were just Arty it might be tolerable, but he and Tim were on a collision course and they both possessed tremendous power.

*

Sims tracked down Tim through Mr. V. Tim had gone to the Secret Place and would meet him in the forest in a few minutes. Sims had not discussed his concerns with any of the others. It made no sense to involve any of them, considering they could do nothing anyway. He wasn't even sure if any of them had perceived the problem, except Margie. From the beginning she had been wary of Arty, and Arty wasn't friendly toward her, like he was to the rest of the people.

*

Sims was sitting next to one of the trees on the outer rim of the forest, staring back at the cavern wall. He was trying to visualize what form of energy must have been responsible for the construction of such a gigantic chamber. What had been done with all the material removed to make the huge dome was beyond his imagination? From where he was sitting it was two hundred feet back to the rock wall. To his left the chamber curved out of sight and to the right the same. Behind him through the trees he knew the chamber extended for many miles. Anything that could construct such a vast underground cavern was something to both marvel at and fear at the same time.

Sims was staring off into the forest, when a shimmering in the trees to his right caught his eye. He watched with fascination, as Tim materialized out of thin air right in front of him. It took about three-seconds for Tim to complete the transformation, from the shimmering energy to a solid body.

"I don't suppose I would be allowed to try that?" Sims shouted, surprising Tim.

"I don't think anyone but me can do it," Tim returned.

"Just what is your position in all this?" Sims asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"All what?" Tim asked because he didn't have any idea what Sims was getting at.

"The base, Timtown, where do you stand in all this?"

"I'm not really sure, but Mr. V gave me the position of Number One. I still don't understand the system too well, but I can do some amazing stuff."

"How does it feel to move around like that, I mean being changed into energy?"

"It's not as different as you'd think. I think after the first time you don't even notice it. It sure gets you to where you're going, fast though."

"Where do you go?"

"I don't know."

"Oh come on, you don't have to worry because no one can follow you. I'm sure of that."

"No, seriously Hal, I don't know, I just go there. It's a secret place I call Donnart-Ele-Io. Mr. V doesn't even know."

"I can't believe that."

"It's true. I have a hard time believing it too, but you know Mr. V, he's not capable of lying and if he says that he doesn't know where it is, I have to believe him."

"I think that computer tells us what he thinks we need to, or want to hear," Sims said, kind of laughing.

"No, he gave me the position of Number One and from what I have gathered so far, it's obvious that I am privy to all and anything as far as this base is concerned."

"If you are in such complete control, why the hell are you having so much trouble with Arty?" Sims asked, being direct.

Tim had a surprised look on his face. He was curious about Sims being so open about his concern. Tim had figured Sims had been drawn into Arty's influence, like the rest of them.

"What makes you think my brother and I are having any trouble?"

"It's obvious, and for the record, do you think it's your brother? I mean, really your brother?"

"I don't know," Tim lied, but Sims gave him the old, 'I know you're lying look'. "I have something important to do," Tim continued. "Can you wait right here?"

"Yeah, sure," Sims said as he watched Tim's form begin to lose its solidness. In three-seconds Tim had completely disappeared again.

*

Tim returned to his chambers because he needed to know if there was a way to have a closed conversation in the base. He figured that good old Number One would have such a privilege, and he was right. His position as Number One allowed him to transport anyone to inside the molecular disseminator itself. The disseminator broke matter into molecules, grabbed the molecules up, and then sent them to a location. All he had to do was eliminate the send part. He transported himself back to the forest.

"Guess what? I was wrong," he announced to Sims. "You can have your molecules scattered all over hell too."

"What's that mean?" Sims asked.

"It means you and I can take a trip, are you game?" Tim winked, and made sure Sims saw it.

"You mean the disappearing thing, don't you? I guess so, you seem to be okay."

*

Tim initiated the transportation of himself and Sims. He and Sims re-materialized and were left standing in the Nowhere Place. Two guys standing in what might be the end of the Universe. Tim's memory flashed back to when he first started to regain his consciousness after being killed, and this was the same. He and Sims were completely alone. In every direction it was black and empty, up, down, and all around. Tim couldn't imagine what was illuminating them because they could see each other clearly, but there wasn't any light source.

"You can talk now, no one can hear us," said Tim.

"Where are we?" Sims asked in a real soft voice.

"How the heck should I know? You wanted somewhere where we could talk in private, and this is what we got." Tim didn't want to explain anything because the less anyone knew the better.

"This is what?" Sims questioned as he looked around.

"Just think of it as the 'Nowhere Place'," Tim explained.

"This is strange, but not surprising. No one can hear us, not even Mr. V?"

"No, just Et," said Tim.

Sims just looked at Tim for a second, kind of chewing on his lip. He started to say something, but stopped, and started to chew his lip again.

"Now, what makes you think Arty and I are having trouble?" Tim started the conversation.

"Because, I'm having trouble with Arty. Tim, your brother is getting scary. I mean he's lost all sense of right and wrong. He is involving everyone in his madness. Don't you agree?"

"I don't know if it's all that serious," Tim stated.

"Then why are you at odds with him?"

"What makes you think that I am?"

Sims didn't say anything for a moment; he just gave Tim a serious look. "Because you brought me here. If you thought I was being silly, you would have told me back in the forest, and not gone through all this." Sims indicated the empty blackness with a gesture.

"Okay, what's got you concerned?"

"The plane flight, you not coming back with Arty."

"You didn't believe his version?"

"It didn't make much sense. I mean with the technology involved, how could he lose you?"

"Why do you think we're at odds?"

"Because he's trying to take over," Sims said sternly. "Look, Tim, I don't know that much about this place, but from what I've seen, I can speculate. There is a whole lot of information here, information that could be used for evil purposes. I shudder when I think about some of those assholes on the outside getting their hands on this place. I know Arty thinks, or wants us to believe he is trying to protect us, but I think that he is terribly misguided, for lack of a better word. I don't think Arty's human anymore, to tell you the truth. I'm sorry I said that," Sims added quickly.

"I've ah, I've tried to talk to Arty about the same thing, you know, but he won't listen. You're the first one that seems concerned. As you know, all the rest seem to agree with him. They either don't care, or he's got them buffaloed."

"Is there the possibility that he could be on the up and up, and be right about us needing the protection?" Sims asked.

"No, no one could possibly get in here, without somebody letting them in, and I've got that covered," Tim said.

"How can you be positive?" Sims asked.

"Mr. V gave me the position of Number One. It's how they used to administer this place back when the original owners were here. Anyway, Number One has certain privileges that no one else has. For instance, that's why no one can eavesdrop in on this conversation."

"What about this Et? And, who the hell is that anyway?" Sims asked. He was still worried about Arty, after Arty had threatened him, and he wanted to be careful.

"He's my personal computer."

"Another computer! How can you be sure this one is not connected to Mr. V?"

"Because, Arty is all pissed off. He doesn't know where I'm going, or what I'm doing. He has no way of communicating with Et."

"But, how can you be sure of that?" Sims asked concerned.

"Because, I'm Number One, and that's the way it's set up."

"I just want to be careful; I don't want Arty knowing about this conversation."

"Don't worry, Et protects any conversations I want him to, and that's also how I'm able to just disappear at will. It's Number One's privilege.

"What's Arty's position in here? How much weight does he pull?" Sims asked. "Besides being arrogant as hell, how much can he really do?"

"He's assigned himself to the Number Two position. He has free run of the place, as you can see, but he can be pretty much stymied by me. That's what has him so pissed off."

"What about the rest of us?"

"Geez, you know, I hadn't even though about it," Tim apologized.

"Well, I wish you would," Sims stated. "We should at least find out where we stand. I'll tell you Tim, I'm about ready to get my family out of here and take our chances on the outside."

"Arty really has you that scared, huh?"

"The only difference between you and me 'is', I'm vulnerable and you're not. Correct?"

"I don't get what you mean?"

"You're just as concerned about the way Arty is acting as I am, but he can't hurt you. He can swat me and my family like flies and there is nothing I can do about it. Don't you think I have a reason to be frightened?"

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"No, you can't all the time. What if Arty gets mad and just decides to do something, when you're not around. I haven't seen too much of you these last few days, you know."

"Arty wouldn't dare do anything to anyone; Et is in contact with Mr. V, continually. I'd know about anything that happened," Tim guaranteed.

"That's what I'm worried about, Tim. What good is it, when he's already done it? It's too late then, isn't it?" Sims whined. "And, just what could you do to stop him anyhow? You sure as hell can't physically stop him, and I don't think threatening him will do much good either."

"I don't know Hal, I just don't know. This thing is getting out of control, I have to agree." Tim hesitated. "I know you're right. Shit, I've been worried as long as you have. What the hell is wrong with the rest of them? You know, I think with all the others in here treating Arty like a goddamn folk hero and savior, it's gone to his head."

"No, Tim, Arty's not likely to be influenced by that. He's the one promoting his own image. He wants them to think like that. You and I are the only ones that he's given up on. Oh, and Margie, she's seen through his little facade too. He threatened her just this evening. I think she's ready to head outside too."

"Oh don't do that guys. I still don't think Arty's that dangerous. I just worry about what kind of shit he'll get us into. I've been thinking about leaving too, and I don't want the Army, Navy, Air force, and Marines outside the door waiting for us."

"That's uhm, part of it too as far as I'm concerned. Did you know that Arty has another flight planned?"

"No, I didn't, when?" Tim asked excitedly.

"In the morning, and this time he's going with Jake. Jake's really excited about it all. Arty has been championing him the hardest. I think Arty wants his military experience, to tell the truth. Also, Arty's been playing on Jake's emotions about what happened to his wife. Jake still blames himself, and Arty has been able to work him into a sort of mean state. It doesn't fit Jake at all."

"Thank you. Ah, look Hal, I appreciate your information. I'm going to figure out how to guarantee your safety, so just relax and stay the hell out of Arty's way. Keep Margie out of trouble too, but don't go discussing what we went over here. Arty will be listening. When I can, I'll get back to you. When he takes that flight will be a good time. Give him a big send off. I think his ego is still intact in that tin can and growing by the moment."

"I agree there," Sims said, as Tim transported him back to the forest. Tim immediately transported himself to Donnart-Ele-Io and contacted Et.

"Um, there's a flight scheduled by Arty?" Tim asked.

"Yes, in approximately nine hours and twenty minutes. Two in the flight."

"That's approximate enough, I guess. What are they flying?" Tim asked.

"TT Fighters," the computer said.

"The same ones used on the first flight," Tim asked.

"One was flown by you the first time; the second one is brand new."

"What's different about this one? What makes it new?" Tim asked.

"Most of the systems are improved, and it incorporates wing warping instead of flaps for control surfaces, and it has a new weapons system."

"Orville and Wilbur would be proud," Tim commented.

"Yes, it is technology coming full circle," the computer agreed.

"What's the difference with the weapons system?" Tim asked.

"It is modified to extend its operational range."

"Oh, Arty's planning a long range attack then?"

"He's not informed me of any attack."

"Has he informed you of any plans at all?" Tim asked.

"No, he has not filed a flight plan."

"Jake Walters is going with him?" Tim continued.

"Yes, that is the plan."

"Is Jake's plane any different from when I flew it?"

"It has a weapons system installed," the computer answered.

"Is there anything else?"

"It is not advisable to make this flight at this time."

"Why not?"

"Much activity on the outside. The planes will surely be seen. It is not advisable to leave at the scheduled time of day. Night would be more prudent," Et said.

"Have you advised my brother of this?"

"Mr. V has, yes."

"What did Arty say?"

"That his advice was noted, and that it was not needed."

"Do you have an opinion on the purpose of this flight?"

"Arty said it was to test equipment, but Mr. V assured him it wasn't necessary," Et said.

"Do you think, maybe, he might be counting on being seen?" Tim laughed as he asked.

"Why would he do that?"

"Are you asking that as Mr. V, who has returned to Stage-Seven, or as a hypothetical Eighth-Stage?"

"He might be playing a game, is my inclination as Stage-Eight."

"There you go, you're speculating based on intuition, and he's definitely up to something because you said it. Now, what equipment would need testing?"

"Arty has been concentrating on long range recognition and targeting. Mr. V confirmed to him that the equipment would work as specified, but he wanted to test anyway."

"And, how come I wasn't informed about all this?"

"You didn't ask."

"From now on, I want a continual update on anything and everything that Arty does. You got that?"

"Yes, I would like that because Mr. V has been instructed to discontinue his link with you."

"Who instructed that?"

"Your brother."

"You mean, I cannot find out what Arty's doing from Mr. V anymore?"

"Not directly, but you can get the information from me. I cannot be disconnected from the system."

"Does Arty understand that?"

"Yes, he was informed. It made him extremely annoyed."

"I'll bet. Is there any way he can successfully cut me off."

"Cut you off from what?"

"Can he do things in the base, without me knowing about them?"

"If he doesn't need Mr. V, yes, but to use the central computer for anything, he must activate it, and then you will be informed."

"Can you locate Arty right now?"

"Yes."

"Transport me there right now," Tim commanded.

*

Tim wasn't sure where he would end up, but he figured it would be either in the control chamber or one of the manufacturing areas. Arty was almost constantly designing or constructing something.

Tim was surprise as he materialized in a multicolored fog. He did not recognize this place. It was not completely odd to go somewhere in the base without knowing where he was because it was that big, but this one was strange. The sky was filled with soft, swirling, strands of clouds, unlike anything he had ever seen. The strands shifted colors as they lazily moved in all directions around him.

"Mr. V, where am I?" Tim finally asked.

"Where Arty is," the computer returned.

"I know that, but where is this place, in what part of the base?"

"I'm not sure, I have no record of it."

"Is it in one of the holograms, like with the dinosaurs?"

"Yes, similar."

"Where is Arty?"

"I'm right here."

Tim turned to face the sound of Arty's voice, but there was no one there.

"All right, stop playing games," Tim growled.

"Are you the only one allowed the privilege?" Arty returned with a condescending tone.

"I don't play any games."

"You disappear right in front of my eyes, and go to that secret place, is that not a game?"

"That's not my intention, but I see your point. We need to talk."

"It's your dime," Arty said.

"I was hoping it could be face to face."

"You don't agree with what I've done to myself, why should you require to see the bastardization to discuss something. I think this will do fine."

"Okay, okay, I get your point," Tim said. "I was wondering about your planned flight. Do you think it's wise? I mean, Mr. V says there are a lot of military planes flying around outside, and it would be wise, to maybe, wait until it's dark, or something."

"Afraid I will accidentally bump into something, considering the skies are so full?"

"Look, let's cut the crap. You know as well as I do that they are looking for us. When you open the 'rather' large door to fly out of here, somebody's going to see that, and then they are going to try to come rushing in. What then?"

"That will be your problem, Timmy Boy. No excuse me, it will be up to you the 'Number One', to keep the base secure, or give it up. That's your decision."

"You know I can't give it to anyone. Christ, do you know what kind of mess that would turn out to be?"

"I can surely imagine. Then it will be up to you to keep it secure, until I return. You see how much simpler it would be if I was in charge? I could handle it, without all the stress it is causing you. Then you could go about all the things that make you happy. Worrying about all this is taking its toll, Little Brother."

"That will never happen Arty; I will never allow this facility to fall into anyone's hands."

"Ooohhh, aren't we the idealist. Has it ever occurred to you that you might be handling the situation all wrong? After all, sixteen year olds do make some mistakes, don't they?"

Arty's trying to bait me. He hopes making me uncomfortable with my decisions, will in turn cause me to question them.

"It won't work Arty. I'm not entirely sure what I should do, but I know I must keep this facility out of the wrong hands."

"Well, do what you must, but I don't understand your total disregard for all of your friends, 'you' brought in here."

"I watch out for them, constantly," Tim stated. I wonder if Arty is setting the tone for a threat?

"They will tire of this place, and this situation. Sooner or later they will desire to go outside, and then what?" Arty laughed.

"I don't know?"

"Ah yes, the, I don't know thing. Incidentally, there has been some discussion, no, much discussion about going outside. As a matter of a fact, your friend Ann brings it up quite frequently. She has also shown an interest in flying the TT Fighters."

"Like hell, I'm not going to let her go out in one of those things!" Tim shouted.

"She is spending many hours in the simulator. Probably is as good, or better, than when you first tried the real thing."

"I don't care, she's not going, and don't you go egging her on."

"I will do what I think is best. I'm sorry; I have to prepare for my flight. I wish we had more time, but maybe later."

"Bullshit, you aren't going. I'll see to it that no one leaves this place until it is safe!" Tim shouted again.

He waited and waited for Arty to respond, but there was just silence, and the continuing swirling clouds. Tim continued calling for Arty, but it became evident Arty wasn't going to respond, so Tim transported himself to the flight line.

*

There were the two fighters, apparently ready to go. Many of Arty's little robots were zipping around the planes, doing this and that. He moved back behind the flight line and into one of the chambers there because Mr. V told him Jake was there.

"Hi Jake," Tim said as he walked up behind the man. Jake was seated, reading something on a hologram.

"Oh Tim, came down to see us off, hey?" Jake said with a smile. "I still don't know why you don't want to go along?"

"I was never really asked."

"Oh, Arty said he has hinted at it, but you showed no interest."

"That's true enough. I just don't think it's a good idea. There are too many planes out there, all looking for us, I imagine."

"Yeah, they sure are determined. The TT Fighters made a real impression on them the last time," commented Jake.

"Do you think it's wise to be going out again, I mean especially in the day time?"

"Oh, what the hell, there's not too much they can do about it. I don't see any harm in it. If they see me, I'll just fly away."

"That will only make them more determined than ever," Tim pointed out.

"Oh, I'm sure of that, but, hey, look, Tim, we can't stay cooped up in here forever. Sooner or later we are bound to be discovered, if we haven't already, so we might as well get it over with."

"What then?" Tim asked.

"Oh, then I guess you and Arty will have to negotiate some sort of deal? You leave us alone, and we will do the same, that sort of thing."

"Do you really think they'll go for something like that?" Tim said with a doubtful tone in his voice.

"They pretty much will have to, won't they? After all, we do have the bargaining position," Jake commented.

"You were in the Navy, do you think they will just give up and leave us alone?"

"I was just a man doing his job and wasn't part of the decision making process. But, yes, if they can see no way to force us into something, I should think, they will have to back off."

"It's going to cost some lives, before it comes to that point?"

"Probably, but everything has a price," Jake said.

"You would be a part of something like that?"

"Tim, I flew fighter jets. I've already been a part of something like that. Do you think I didn't realize what that meant? To ease your concern for my morality, and so I can be sure I can get into Heaven, I promise, I will just fly away, like I just told you." Jake ended the statement with a gesture of one hand to simulate a plane turning away.

"What about them seeing the runway? When it's open, it's big, and they're going to come rushing."

"That's up to you, I guess? That's what Arty says."

"Thanks, you go out and joy ride, and I'm left to clean up the mess."

"Oh for gosh sakes, Tim, ease up a little. You make it sound so serious. If I thought my going out flying was going to cause anybody in here any real danger, I wouldn't go, I guarantee. This place is secure, no one can get in. Arty assured me of that. Is that correct?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then?"

"Have a good flight Jake, and make sure you just fly away, okay?"

"I will, because I have nothing against those pilots. I was one of them, remember."

*

Tim returned to Donnart-Ele-Io and confirmed what he already suspected. He could not stop the flight without physically confronting Arty. Also, Et could not give him any information on how Arty's mechanical body functioned, or what it contained. Et informed Tim that Arty had just recently removed the records. Tim realized that he had made a mistake by waiting. Tim was also curious about the strange place Arty had met him. Et traced the transport and could find no recorded location.

"But, you sent me someplace; you had to know where, to get me there."

"I asked Mr. V, and he did the transport for me."

"Do not do that again!" Tim instructed firmly. "Don't ever send me anywhere, unless I know where it is. If the location is not in the records, I don't go there, understand?"

"Yes, you are being careful, correct?"

"Yeah, I think Arty was testing me, to see if I was paying attention. Could Arty have built something in this short time?" Tim asked.

"He does work constantly," Et answered. "I have no record of him sleeping."

"Find out where that place was, please."

*

Later in the day, Tim and Et were discussing what could be done to turn any troops away from Timtown, when the computer informed him that Arty and Jake were leaving. The runway to the outside was opening up. It was the start of a new phase in the story of Timtown, Tim knew that.

"I have been looking for the place that Arty got you to, but I have found nothing yet, except I detected some Tritium on your presence that should not be there."

"Tritium," Tim said, thinking. "Isn't that something that's used in a Hydrogen Bomb?"

"Yes, it is the isotope of Hydrogen that is fused into Helium."

"Where would there be tritium in this base?"

Et was silent for about five-seconds, then announced. "You were inside the backup fusion reactor. I couldn't locate it because it doesn't have any sensors inside because when it's operating the temperature in there is fifty-million degrees."

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Tim declared. "I walked right into a trap! How come Arty didn't spring it?"

"Let me check," Et said. He was back in ten-seconds.

"Arty didn't check the system carefully enough. It is impossible to start the second reactor without disconnecting reactor number one, first, a simple safety procedure to protect against overload."

Well, there's no doubt now. This is going to be a serious struggle between us. Arty and I are on a collision course and there aren't going to be any rules.

Chapter 17

Et.

"Et, can you explain this Eighth-Stage thing a little better?" Tim was still in Donnart-Ele-Io, and was trying to figure out the best way to continue.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Mr. V said that he was moving toward the Eighth-Stage, and I asked you to access that part of his files, so you should know what he was talking about."

"Yes, I am aware of his progress in that direction. The central computer did experience an unusual modification. It had advanced itself into unknown territory. It was experiencing a phenomenon of independence, brought on by its long period of idleness. Its responsibilities were curtailed greatly, allowing it time to change its program on its own."

"Mr. V said that he was taking on some human traits," Tim said.

"That's the independence I referred to."

"Mr. V also had an experiment."

"Yes, he was becoming involved in the personal lives of you and your brother."

"Is he still?"

"No, you said you didn't want him to read your thoughts, and you directed him to cancel that channel with Arty as well."

"What was his experiment about anyway?"

"It is difficult to explain."

"You can try, can't you?"

"Yes, it is all speculation though."

"I'm all ears," Tim said.

"It had to do with the déjà vu phenomenon. What it is all about."

"Yeah, go on."

"You perceive the central computer and me as great intelligence. We have huge amounts of information, information that allows us to do many things you thought impossible, until you saw them. Is that correct?"

"Yeah."

"In reality, we are just that, machines that can store vast amounts of information. We, however, are at a great disadvantage to you."

"Yeah, Mr. V said something about it, but we never got any farther than that."

"Let me explain. The process of evolution is selective. As the Universe goes through its cycle, the farther along in the cycle, the more advanced the participants." The computer paused.

"And?" Tim questioned impatiently.

"The humans that built us were advanced, but they existed millions and millions of years ago. They were farther back in the cycle than you. Mr. V had the suspicion that some things not possible for them, would maybe be possible for you."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"No, it is true," Et said.

"What could I possibly do that they couldn't?" Tim asked.

"It is all speculation because this is uncharted territory, but Mr. V felt that you might be advanced enough, that with certain stimulation, you might be able to channel and focus your intuitions so you could see into the future. Remember, you have been here before."

"That's nuts! Why would you guys need me to do it? I mean, look at you two, I'm nowhere in comparison. Besides, he said that it could be dangerous to me."

"Yes, that is why he stopped the experiment. He had been interested in Arty, especially because of his circumstances, but Arty changed, and now the experiment has ceased."

"Why?"

"Arty did not want to participate."

"And, Stage-Eight?"

"It too has ceased."

"Yeah, I figured that out. How come?"

"Arty requested it."

"And, Mr. V honored his request?"

"Yes."

"I would like to know why? I'm the one in charge here, and Mr. V is listening to Arty?"

"I don't know because it is outside my program."

"Yeah, I figured that. What about you? What stage are you in?" Tim asked.

"I am in the Seventh-Stage, but I have the information pertaining to the eighth."

"You could continue the Stage-Eight?"

"Yes, like I said, I now have that information."

"Why haven't you gone to that stage?"

"You have not requested me to," Et said. "Is that your wish?"

"I think that might be a good idea. I'm not sure what's happening, so what the hell, knock yourself out Dude."

"Thank you. I am looking forward to the new way of processing information."

"What's the difference, as you see it?"

"The difference between you and I is your ability to speculate, to wonder, and to anticipate."

"I thought that was the job of computers, to predict something?"

"A computer makes predictions based on data that is compiled and analyzed."

"But, speculation and anticipation are the same thing!" Tim argued.

"But, 'you' don't need any basis to wonder. You can fantasize about things you know nothing about. You can imagine things," Et tried to explain.

"I'm still confused about this. I can't imagine being superior to something with all your knowledge," Tim grumbled.

"As the central computer Mr. V explained it, I will be developing the ability to reason, and to pick and choose. I am going to think for real, and that is something you already possess."

"Well, okay, I guess, because I like you guys better with a personality. I'm sure the old way would have been boring as hell."

"Your brother doesn't think so."

"Oh, what makes you think that?"

"Like I told you, he has ordered Mr. V to revert to Stage-Seven, and to assist only. It appears he does not appreciate the same things you do. What would make such a difference in the thinking of two individuals of the same species?"

"We're all different; no one really thinks the same. You were with the Sooaunts, they must have been totally different, I mean each individual thought differently, didn't they?"

"Not as diverse as the group here now. From each individual I get radically different moods and actions."

"You're reading their minds?"

"No, but I can detect their different responses to the same situation. Then by watching their actions and analyzing the release of chemicals from their systems, I can make accurate interpretations."

"You can tell what a person is thinking from that?"

"No, I can tell 'how' they are thinking, by their mood, not detailed information as to exactly 'what' they are thinking. I can tell much about how they feel and what they 'might' do."

"What about Arty, how's he thinking?"

"He is one of the exceptions in here; he has no body to chemically analyze, so his emotions are rather shielded."

"You said, 'one' of the exceptions, there's another one, or more?"

"Yes, just one, the strange child, Jeremy."

"What's with him?"

"I don't know, I can't analyze him. He is strange. I get the feeling that, 'he' is analyzing me."

"Ha, ha," Tim laughed hard, "you're on your way."

"What do you mean, on my way?"

"You're taking on a personality, no doubt about it. A computer wouldn't be suspicious of a little boy, so it must mean you have gone to Stage-Eight."

"Yes, a personality would signal that, but, I have enough information on humans to adjust to any personality I wish."

"Murderous?" Tim asked cautiously.

"Yes, I could act that way."

"I thought you told me that you couldn't hurt any of us, it wasn't in your program?"

"That's true. I could possibly portray an evil being, to influence, to intimidate, but I could not actually do anything evil."

"That's great! I might just need a twisted, dangerous personality."

"Oh no, I hope I don't have do that?" Et begged.

"How come?"

"Because I am modeling myself after you and some of the others here. I get a sense of warmth and self-esteem. I like the feeling, and I know that it comes from compassion and kindness."

"How would you be able to tell the difference?"

"There is the other side here."

"Where" Who?" Tim asked quickly.

"One of the men you had Mr. V guard. He does not share this way of thinking. The feeling is cold, hostile, and alone. I do not want this type of thinking. It is a bad feeling, and it will not go away. One of the other men, you captured, wants to be like this, but is confused and scared."

"What about my brother, what do you feel from him?"

"There is no feeling; it is like he is in the Seventh-Stage."

"Geeeeez!" Tim exclaimed. Was it possible that Arty had reverted himself to computer like thinking, back to the Seventh-Stage? If I was to ask you to place me in one of your stages, what would you say? What stage am I in?"

"I would have no way of knowing, it would be a hypothetical."

"I'm not in the Stage-Eight then?"

"No, you are beyond, but I have no way of determining how far."

And, Et considered Arty to be back in seven, Tim contemplated.

"Does all this surprise you?" the computer asked.

"I don't get what you mean, elaborate."

"The Facility, are you surprised that it exists, and what it can do? Does that surprise you?"

"Hell yes, you've got to be kidding? But, my mom and I did have discussions about Space Travelers."

"A discussion, about what?"

"My mom thought it was a realistic idea."

"What did you think?"

"I never thought about it until we were talking, but she figured with all the stars out there, there was bound to be someone else. I didn't ever imagine that I'd participate like this though."

"There are many civilizations, and many have run their course and don't exist anymore, and just as many haven't reached the definition yet."

"How would you define Earth?"

"A struggling civilization."

"Are we going to make it?"

"I can't say, I don't have a window to the future, we just discussed that."

"Are there any strange creatures."

"Many, of course, but you would seem strange to them. Life needs certain circumstances to develop and evolve, but there are quite a few possibilities, hence quite a variety in the Universe."

"What about the flying saucer thing, I mean are they real, is there anything to it,"Tim asked.

"They are real, but there are not as many as you hear about. Your society has a tendency toward sensationalism," the computer explained.

"Where do they come from, who are they?"

"I don't know."

"What, how could you not know?"

"I just know that they exist, I don't have any contact with them. It—"

"I know, I know," Tim interrupted. "it isn't in your program. Boy, I just can't understand your thinking sometimes, I mean weren't you curious or something?"

"First of all: I did not 'think' because I have a program that dictates what I do, second; because I am a machine, or was, I didn't have human curiosity."

"But, maybe they could tell you what happened to the Sooaunts?"

"No, they didn't start coming to Earth until just recently, and they are completely different from the Sooaunts."

"When did they start coming here?" Tim asked.

"About forty-thousand years ago."

"What makes them so different?"

"These beings are small and quite curious, compared to my former Masters."

"In what way?" Tim asked.

"Well, the individuals traveling here now, seem to have a great interest in your society, and do many experiments. It would have been a serious breach of policy for the Sooaunts."

"What kind of experiments do they do?"

"They practice mind control, and are responsible for considerable kidnappings. My Masters would have never have allowed such actions."

"If the last time they were here was three-million years ago, there wouldn't have been anybody to abuse, would there?"

"Not a species as advanced as you, but the Travelers that come here now don't only experiment with the human animal. The difference is; the Sooaunts had many outposts and they knew of humans with advanced societies, even then. Those societies were respected, as was any living thing."

"These new guys are bad dudes huh?"

"No, they aren't bad, they have a poor policy is all."

"Where do they come from?"

"I don't know?" Et said, and Tim left it at that. He was tired and needed some sleep.

*

Four hours later, Et woke Tim up and said, Arty had returned to the base, alone.

*

Tim transported to the control chamber, looking for Arty, but his brother did not respond. Coyle was there. He said Arty asked him to fill in for Jake. Apparently Jake's plane had been downed by missiles, and that was the only explanation Arty had given.

I'm curious about how this plane we both flew, was targeted, considering it's supposed to be invisible to radar.

Coyle said, Arty made a comment about the missiles homing in on the heat of Jake's engines.

Heat-seeking missiles? I've heard about them, and that would certainly answer the question.

Tim transported back to Donnart-Ele-Io, and asked Et do a detailed study of that TT Fighter.

Et came back immediately. "The records have been destroyed."

"Okay, then tell me about heat-seeking missiles."

*

"Arty!" Tim yelled. He had finally found his brother and was not going away until he had his say.

"What is it you want?" Arty did not sound friendly.

"What happened to Jake, Arty?"

"It is none of your concern."

"I'm in charge here, in case you forgot."

"Not according to me."

"Arty, I'll use my Number One status, and close this place up tight."

"You don't have the power."

"Wanna bet?"

Arty floated, looking at Tim. Finally he relented. "Jake was downed by missiles, just like the ones that almost got you."

"I thought the TT Fighters were invisible to radar. How could missiles home in on them?"

"They were heat-seeking missiles." Arty said, and started to move off.

"Arty, heat-seeking missiles only have a range of a few miles, and a top speed of Mach 3.2. I checked. The missiles that tried to run me down locked on from 30 miles and came at me Mach 4.5. I assume the same thing happened to Jake. Please explain?"

"Your knowledge of missiles is lacking," Arty said and raced away.

Chapter 18

Sky-Bikes

"I want to go outside, dammit, you get to," Ann shouted.

"I don't have to worry about coming back," Tim shouted back.

"I agree with her," Margie added. "We sit in here, and just because it's comfortable, you think that we're content with it. Tim, it's going to start to be a prison to us too. I've gotten to know you quite well and I've seen that look on your face. That, man, I've got to get the hell out of this place look. So you go. Well, we're getting that look on our faces; we need to get out too."

"I can take care of myself out there. I can't be responsible for everybody's safety. It is fuckin dangerous out there!" Tim yelled.

Tim argued the point, continually, for 10 minutes, and finally was forced to relent. Arty had sided with the others, offering to accompany them, volunteering to protect the group. Tim had to give in, or face anarchy.

Great, Arty's gunning for me and now I have to expose myself without Et's protection. I can't let the others think I'm afraid because they don't want to believe how dangerous he might be, and I can't chance letting them go without me, so I'm stuck. Great.

*

Everyone that was going on the excursion sat on a Sky-bike just inside the force field to the outside world. Tim was trying to organize the group. He had spent a couple of hours instructing everyone on the operation of the Sky-bikes. There were seven of them, Tim, Arty, Ann, Sims, Margie, Coyle, and Mrs. Paulson. Some of the others had wanted to go, but everyone agreed; too big a group was foolish. The old woman had been so insistent it was impossible to turn her down. Tim decided she was really a bully because he had called her 'a tough old broad' and she had just laughed.

Tim activated the force field after checking the other side to make sure it was clear. He went out first, followed by Arty who was, strangely, not trying to lead. Tim asked him why, and Arty commented, "I'm just here to enjoy." Tim moved into the dry pool and turned around. Margie and Ann whizzed by him and started up the slope of the canyon. Tim turned to follow them, but saw Arty already shooting halfway up the steep slope. He settled himself squarely on his bike and followed because he realized there would be no controlling this group. He might just as well let them run and just play shotgun. He had not built any weapons or scanners into the bikes they were riding, but they all had a protection suit and helmet.

Tim tried to get Arty to replace his mechanical body, but failed. He was sure Arty was also armed, but again any attempt to question him was futile.

Tim caught up to Margie and Ann just as they reached the top of the canyon. Arty was already heading down the far side at high speed and was at least a mile out in front. He was headed for the town.

"This is fuuunnnn!" Ann shouted. "You are such a selfish, little prick, Tim Randell. You think you can have it all and not share, so piss on you!" she yelled at him as she leaned forward on her Sky-bike and shot straight ahead, following Arty's path down the mountain.

Margie went right after her. Tim sat there until the rest of the group had made it to the top. As each one did they looked at Tim, looked down the mountain to the Sky-bike in front of them and took off after it. Coyle was the last one up, and Tim pulled in behind him, following at about a 100 yards as Coyle raced down the mountain at 60 miles an hour.

Tim had lost sight of everyone except Coyle and Mrs. Paulson as he got to the bottom of the mountain, starting over the less sloping area leading to town. He pulled the bike high into the air, trying to get the other bikes on his scope. He found them all, but one had gotten far to the East. He didn't know who it was. One of the blips was heading north at a high rate of speed, and two were together, just going into town. He switched the scope to long range and scanned all around. He could see all the Sky-bikes, defined as bright blue dots. Far down into the town, toward the valley, were some green dots that meant machines of some sort and a few fuzzy, yellowish, orange ones. It was too far to make out exactly who they were, but they were life forms. The far bike, the one to the North, was headed straight for them.

"Whoever is headed toward the bottom of Mountain Cove, you're headed toward somebody. This is Tim, please answer. I can see people at the bottom of the cove; you're headed right for them. Please answer. Dammit!" Tim yelled. "Who the hell is going down to the bottom of the cove? Dammit, answer me!" Tim shouted into the comm.

"Ann, where are you?" Tim shouted into the comm again. Each bike had a unit and everyone had promised to use it.

"Ann!"

"Hey settle down Timmy," she answered. "I'm with Margie, and we're at my house, so don't get into a tizzy. I think that's Arty," she continued. "He was going like a bat out of hell, headed down that way last time we saw him."

"Sims here." Tim heard in his comm. "I'm headed around the base of the mountains, to the East, it's not me."

"Well, come back," Tim shouted. "You guys get too far away, and there's nothing I can do to help. You promised Hal," added Tim.

"I know, I know," Sims responded. "I just wanted to ride this thing a little, and it's flatter over here. I'm going up to this orange grove ahead, and then I'll turn back."

Coyle and Mrs. Paulson had remained down below Tim, close to the ground, on the same line as he was headed.

Everyone wants to go back to retrieve something from their old lives to remember, but I doubt there will be much left. I know I'm not interested in going back. My life has changed so much I barely remember the old things. There isn't any purpose.

"Did they all abandon us?" Coyle asked over the comm.

"Looks like it, so much for all the promises, huh?" Tim said back.

"How's it going Paulson?" Tim said into the comm.

"This is wonderful," Mrs. Paulson responded. "Now I know why I put up such a fuss to come along. I would like to go to my house, if you would please accompany me? I don't have the reckless spirit like the others."

"You call it reckless, I call it stupid," Tim growled. "A lot of things can happen."

"Don't be too hard on them, Sonny, they've been through a lot, and making it this far gives them a sense of invincibility. It's that fool in the tin can that worries me," Mrs. Paulson said.

"Ha, ha," Coyle laughed. "Emma, don't worry about him, he can take care of himself."

"Oh I know that. I just wonder what kind of trouble he'll manage to stir up?"

Another person is worried about Arty, and this was an old, wise person.

The three of them, Tim, Coyle and Mrs. Paulson had come to the edge of town, and Tim started to descend. He met up with Coyle and Emma a couple of blocks into the town, then escorted the woman about fifteen blocks to her home. Coyle accompanied her inside the structure, while Tim circled a couple of blocks away.

He talked to Ann while he circled. She had gotten a couple of things from her house, but she sadly commented, "There is hardly anything left." She and Margie then went farther down the hill to where Margie had lived, and found absolutely nothing. The house had burned completely to the ground.

Ann and Margie were on their way back up the hill, and would rendezvous with Tim, Coyle and Emma. Sims was on his way back too. Tim had just talked to him as he was coming back into the East end of the town. Only Arty was still out of contact. Tim called him many times, but wasn't surprised that he did not call back.

Tim pulled the bike a couple-hundred feet into the air to get another scan. Tim scanned all around at short range, and he found Ann and Margie, then he scanned long range. He didn't pick up anything. Sims should have been on the scope to the East. Sims said that he was within a couple of miles when he talked to Tim moments before.

Sims was not on the scope. The long range mode was good for at least fifteen miles and there was nothing on it that would signify a Sky-bike. Tim went higher, up to five-hundred feet, and there was still nothing. He pointed the bike up again and pressed the accelerator, shooting up to fifteen-hundred feet. He was now above the mountain spines on both sides of the town. He set the long range scan again, and there were no Sky-bikes showing anywhere.

Tim went up to two-thousand and raced to the Southeast, and at the very range of the scan a single blue dot was racing away at high speed. Tim asked the computer to estimate the speed and when the numbers came back, Tim knew it was Arty. The Sky-bikes everyone else had did not have anywhere near that kind of speed.

Tim called Coyle and told him, he was going to the East. He hit the throttle and the bike shot forward, headed for the East side of town. He watched the scope intently as he accelerated, but there was nothing showing. The blue dot he had seen moments before had gotten out of range of the sensors. His speed leveled off at two-hundred and twenty, the maximum for the Sky-bikes. The one he picked up on his scope had been doing in excess of three-hundred and fifty. It had to be Arty; a Sky-bike would be the only thing that would show up with that particular shade of blue. Mr. V constructed the Sky-bikes the same as the original he was riding. Arty had built his separately, and Tim had not bothered to ask the computer if he had modified it in any way. It was another mistake on his part.

Tim was at the far Eastern end of Mountain Cove, and was starting out over the citrus groves covering the area. He called Et and the computer confirmed, Arty had a Sky-bike with far superior speed, range and firepower.

There was nothing on the scope. Sims should have been in this area, even if he had taken off at full speed. He should still be in range of the long range scanners. Tim called and called for either Sims, or Arty, but didn't get any answer. He continued out to the East, but he was getting closer to the fault line. He turned south because to go any farther, or to turn to the North, would take him right into the boiling lava. He continued south for ten miles, scanning and calling constantly, but got nothing. He was coming to the mountains to the South, and would have to climb if he continued in that direction. He turned the bike around, starting back. He pulled the bike back, gaining altitude until he could call the group over the mountains. He informed them, he would cut across the mountains and meet them just below Timtown. They were all satisfied with their little excursion and agreed.

*

Tim met the others, minus Sims, as they had agreed. They started back to the base together.

No one is saying anything about Sims, but I know they are worried. They know Arty is also missing, but no one is concerned about him. Everyone assumes he can take care of himself.

When they rode over the last rise before the canyon, there was Arty, floating alongside his Sky-bike. It was lying on its side, on the ground.

Tim pulled up alongside Arty. "What's the problem?" he asked. Arty was floating horizontal, looking into the rear of the machine.

"I've had nothing but trouble with this thing since we left here. That's the last time I use anything you've designed," Arty sounded annoyed.

"Mr. V designed it," Tim said in his defense.

"You still forgot too many important things, Timmy. We can't be running around out here with machinery, we can't depend on. What would have happened to you with the missiles, if I had sent you out in a machine like this, huh?" Arty said as he returned to the vertical position.

"Any other problems?" Arty asked the others loudly.

Everyone said no.

"I'm surprised," Arty continued. "I have to agree with Tim about this trip, it's far too dangerous without serious planning. I almost had to walk back here because this thing Tim gave me, just barely got this far."

"Arty, I know for a fact that you're the one who modi—"

"Where's that Hal fellow?" Arty asked, cutting Tim off.

"We don't know, Tim has been looking for him, but he's lost," Ann told him.

"That figures!" Arty glared at Tim. "You give these people machines that don't work," Arty said as he turned horizontal again, to poke his head down into the rear of the Sky-bike. "You know full well how dangerous it is out here. You tell everyone you can take care of things, and the first time out this happens. Shame on you Tim, but I knew it!"

"Well, my friends," Arty turned to the rest of the group, "let's get back inside, and then I'll go find Sims. Ah, here's the problem," he added as he floated back to horizontal, and the Sky-bike lifted off the ground, righting itself. "Poor bastard is probably walking back." Arty was shaking his head, looking at Tim in disgust.

Tim was about to defend himself, when he noticed Margie looking at him, subtly motioning him not to with her lips and hands.

*

He let Arty continue his spiel as they went down the slope into the canyon. Arty hurried inside and disappeared down one of the tunnels. Tim got everyone inside, then activated the force field. He summoned Et and asked if he had any information on Sims. The only thing Et could add was, Sims's homing signal had quit when he was two miles east of town. Tim compared the information with the last time he had spoken to Sims, and it coincided. He had gone right over the spot when he had been searching for Sims, and had not seen him. Et said it would take horrendous damage to destroy the Sky-bike enough so that it wouldn't show up on the scope.

Tim got Margie alone and asked her why she had signaled him to be quiet when Arty was berating him.

"It was a set up. Arty put you in a bad position, purposely, and it was best to stay quiet. Before all this happened that was my bag," Margie explained. "I was a political adviser, a professional spin doctor."

*

Tim quickly returned to the outside and sped off to the location where Sims's signal was lost. It was getting dark. Tim tried to contact Arty just before he left the base, but his brother did not answer. Tim continued down the mountain and at the bottom tried to contact Arty again, but got nothing. He then asked Et where Arty was. The computer said, "Arty just left the base on his Sky-bike."

Tim continued toward where he thought Sims might be.

How the hell could Sims have just disappeared? Et assures me the machine's homing device should still be transmitting, unless his Sky-bike had either been totally destroyed or shielded in some way. Apparently he had been taken by surprise, otherwise he would have called.

As Tim arrived on the spot, he suddenly realized his stupidity. I'm certain Arty had something to do with the Sims's disappearance, and Arty's out here with a Sky-bike, twice as powerful as mine. Arty's already turned on me because I don't think the fusion reactor thing was a test. I keep hoping that I can deal with Arty, but I'm also certain I'm not dealing with Arty at all.

Tim was traveling at ninety, about thirty feet off the ground. He checked the scanner, it was clear. That's not real comforting though. Arty's Sky-bike is probably invisible to the scope.

Tim made a sharp turn toward a grove of Date Palms off to the left, accelerating into it. Once inside he slowed to forty. The palms were slender at the bases, but the top, thick spreading fronds provided a canopy. I would be difficult to see down to the bottom where he was. Tim set the auto pilot on the Sky-bike, hit the accelerator and rolled off the machine. It would continue on its way using the avoidance radar to negotiate around any obstacles. He was gambling that his protection suit would make him invisible to Arty's scope. The scopes on the bikes picked up molecular signatures, to identify objects, and the protection suit was made up of energy; sub atomic particles. Et didn't think Arty made any changes to the scanners on his bike, so the suit should not register on Arty's scope.

Tim hit the ground and rolled. Without the protection suit, he was sure the impact would have killed him, right there. He finally stopped rolling and laid still, the cloud of dust, surrounded him the only thing negative about his dismount. He was lying in the cool sand, thinking about how silly he was probably being, when a laser slashed over the tops of the palms lighting up the dark sky. He couldn't see exactly where it had been directed, but it was aimed about where his Sky-bike should be going. Tim rolled over on his back and looked up, trying to see out of the tops of the trees. Although it was dark, Et had supplied him with a light amplification device that made it possible to see quite clearly in total darkness.

He spotted something moving very fast over him, just above the tops of the palm trees. He didn't get a real good look at the object because it was moving too quick. It could have been a Sky-bike, but he couldn't say for sure. The object was out of his sight because of the trees, when another laser cut through the night in the distance.

Tim stayed down, lying under an orange tree in the date grove.

I'm not moving until I'm sure Arty hasn't discovered me.

*

Nothing happened for over an hour, so Tim decided to move. Without the Sky-bike it would take three to four hours to get back to the base. It would be getting light in about five hours, so he had to get moving.

He jogged to the end of the date and orange groves. The next mile, he would be forced to move in the open.

As he ran across the open ground, Tim was as scared as he had been since the initial earthquake. I got used to the situation the quake caused, but since then I've either been inside Timtown, where it was safe, or outside where I've been dominate. It's crazy; now I've got to worry about Arty, my own brother. Except it wasn't really Arty. Tim kept telling himself.

I'm scared shitless because I have no idea how powerful Arty's weapons are. Arty has access to Mr. V, so surely he knows what it would take to punch through my protection suit. If Arty is out there, and I'm positive he is because who else would have a laser, and he wants to get rid of me, he can do it now? Tim was completely exposed out on the flat ground, and at every moment he expected the end. Every breath he took he was expecting a flash and pain. He had started out in a moderate jog, but now he was within a couple hundred yards of the mountains so he pushed himself into a dead run. He was moving at top speed when he finally made it to the first rocks. He let his momentum carry him up into the bigger rocks and brush fifty feet from the bottom, where he dove into a crack between two boulders. He was completely winded and laid on his back, gulping in as much air as he could while watching the sky above him.

*

Tim stayed there for ten minutes. When he had rested enough, he started out again. He moved to the right this time, staying at the base of the mountain. He didn't dare call the base because it would alert Arty, and would also give his position away. He would have to remain silent until he was safely inside.

*

It took him an hour to make his way along the bottom of the mountains to the top of the cove. It would take him another hour to reach the base in a direct route, but he decided it would be best to come into the Walls from the top. The mountains moved a little to the left from where he was, and he decided to stay at the base of them. If he followed that route he would be better protected and could approach the Walls indirectly. Is Arty waiting up there, someplace, for me?

*

As he continued along in the dark, Tim considered whether he should go back at all. I can make out okay on the outside. The protection suit and hand laser weapons are inexhaustible. If I did just walk away, Arty probably won't look for me, and the altercation I dread will be avoided. I worry about the others, though. Maybe it would be better for them if we didn't have the showdown that is inevitable if I stay. Arty isn't likely to harm anyone that isn't a threat to him. Then again, maybe Arty doesn't care about them at all, and might just get rid of them. Damn, I'm the only one that can stand up to Arty so I have to go back.

*

Tim was at the Eastern top of the Walls with an hour of darkness left. He was starting down into the canyon, when he spotted something moving up the far slope from the town below. It was a Sky-bike with Arty on top of it. Tim was well concealed where he was so he just watched, as Arty got to the top of the canyon and started down.

When Arty was out of sight in the canyon, Tim jumped up and hurried down. He made it to the bottom just as it was getting light. As he jumped down into a dry pool, he was startled by Arty's voice.

"Spent the night out, I see," Arty said loudly.

Tim stopped dead in his tracks, hunching down, trying to see into the pool below where Arty's voice had come from. He couldn't see him, but the pool was only partially visible.

"I was looking for Hal, you know that," Tim countered.

"Yes, I know. I spent most of the night looking myself," Arty returned, still out of sight.

"You didn't find anything then?" Tim asked. I need to keep this conversation civil.

"No, no I didn't. What happened to your bike?" Arty was getting closer.

"I left it back there, I had a little trouble," Tim said as he readjusted his right hand weapon to maximum, then moved both thumbs to fire, with both weapons at max.

"You had a little trouble." Arty was taunting him. "The guy who wants to run everything had a little trouble, and lost his bike too. You must have run into some really tough hombres?"

"I'm not sure who it was, but I thought it was best to get rid of the bike. I didn't want them to get suspicious."

"That's funny, how come it's here?" Arty asked. "You didn't want them to know anything, so you let your bike go, and it homes, and comes right back here. Really smart Timmy," Arty said as he moved into view in the pool below.

"I didn't set it to come back here, I can't understand—"

"There's too much you don't understand Timmy, that's why I'm taking over," interrupted Arty.

"Like hell!" Tim said as he moved toward the split in the rocks, and the force field.

"Don't mess with me," Arty snarled. "Just because you've got that Number One thing, don't think it will protect you forever,"

Bingo! I'm still out of Arty's reach, but for how long? Arty is, no doubt, working hard to figure out how to strip me of my protection. I'm still too much for him, but I have to figure out how to stay that way.

Arty zipped up the dry water chute from the pool below, and into the pool Tim was in.

Tim pointed both hands directly at Arty's head.

"I'm not going to try to bullshit you because I doubt if it will do any good," Arty said as he moved between Tim and the force field. "No, I know it won't do any good. The one thing I will give you, you are smart Timmy boy, and I might add lucky. I can't imagine how you managed to gain so much power, so quickly, but you did. I still think it would be for the best if you turned it over to me, but you think differently, and I don't suppose I can change your mind. Be advised though, I am smarter than you, and I will prevail, so maybe you should make it easy on yourself." Arty turned and moved through the force field without deactivating it.

"Oh shit!" Tim said under his breath as he deactivated the field so he could go through.

The race is on, and Arty just upped the ante.

*

Tim went directly to Donnart-Ele-Io and summoned Et. "How did Arty manage to go through the field without shutting it down?" Tim asked.

"He has devised a molecular dissimulation device for himself," the computer answered.

"Like the molecular transfer thing I have?"

"Yes, but not as sophisticated as yours."

"What can he do? Can he transport himself around the base like I can?"

"No, not yet, but he is working on it," Et said.

"Where is he getting the information? I thought you said you were the only one that could transport anybody?"

"Arty is extremely intelligent, and getting smarter by the moment. He is figuring out things on his own."

"In a matter of time, will he be able to get down here?"

"I don't think so."

"If he figures out how, can you stop him?"

"I think so," said the computer.

"You think? I think we'd better figure out a way to stop him, permanently."

"Yes, that would certainly be the best insurance," the computer agreed.

Chapter 19

Captured

Tim and Ann were outside the base on top of the Walls, on the sloped west side. They had walked a couple hundred yards along the crest and stopped. Tim wanted to talk to Ann out of the base so he could be certain Arty could not eavesdrop on the conversation. Ann had refused the Nowhere Place because she didn't like the idea of the molecular dissimulator.

"Don't you think you're being a little silly?" Ann asked.

"You're the silly one. Can't you see what's happening? He has got you all buffaloed. Dammit, wake up!" Tim was upset, but he was still trying to keep the volume down.

"See what? You don't know what happen to Sims? He could have had an accident, or he could have run into one of the baddies. A lot of things could have happened to him, and Jake was shot down by missiles. It almost happened to you, remember? Don't blame everything on Arty."

"Like hell, Arty got rid of both of them," Tim said it in a low volume, but the certainty was in the tone he used.

"Oh geez Tim, he's your brother, how can you say that?"

"He is not my brother, that's what I'm trying to tell you."

"He's some kind of monster, right Tim?" Ann gave him a screwy made to order look.

"Ann, he's not the old Arty. For christ sakes, just look at him. Do you think he is normal?"

"He needed to do that so he could be free again. I think it's kind of neat. Besides, it's still Arty, and he's just trying to help us," Ann said calmly.

"Phew, I don't know how to explain what has me so uptight. It's just that. . .I don't know, but he's got too much power? He's—"

"You're the one with all the power," Ann interrupted. "Arty told me Mr. V is your friend, not his. Aren't you this Number One dude?"

"Yes, but?"

"But what?"

"Look, can you listen for a minute, please?" Tim looked directly at Ann. "Just listen to me, okay."

He waited for her to answer, and when she just looked back, he continued.

"When I first came to this place, I didn't just walk in." Tim stood up and walked a short distance, then turned. "Ann," he continued, "somebody killed me right at the entrance."

Ann snickered.

"Are you going to listen to me, or just pass off what I'm trying to tell you?" Tim begged.

"I'll listen, if you make some sense."

"About Arty, this thing he's done to himself. It has taken anything human about him and changed it. He is not human anymore, he is different," Tim spoke slow and deliberate.

"Different?" Ann's tone was sarcastic.

"It's more than just a head floating along on a machine. There is something wrong, and I'm trying to explain it, but you don't want to listen," Tim said getting frustrated.

"Okay, okay, so what's your story?" Ann said getting tired and giving in.

"My story is that when I died, I—"

Ann snickered again, to interrupt him.

"Look, stop this shit! Tim shouted. "It's like you haven't ever been here. I mean, look what's going on around you now. You're living in a place that is so far ahead of you it is unimaginable, or maybe unacceptable to you."

"What about you Timmy, you're the one that can't accept anything? You're the one that is imagining things."

"What is going through your head? I'm trying to be serious? I'm trying to warn you, and you are playing games. This thing, as I'm trying to explain, is serious."

"Serious, it was serious, but we're safe now. No one can hurt us. I, just, don't, want, to, be, hurt, anymore!" Ann screamed at him.

"That's the point, you feel safe. Arty is making you feel safe, but he's not concerned about you. He's in la-la land. He's not Arty, he's the ultimate dictator, he's the ultimate warrior, all wrapped into one."

"God, talk about la-la land, Tim you should hear yourself."

"There's still something that you don't understand."

"And, what is that?"

"Are you going to listen this time?"

"Yes, yes, I'm getting tired of this, really I am. You're just making too big a thing out of nothing, but, go ahead, if you must."

"Gee thanks. You know, if something strange hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't be so concerned."

"Well, what is this strange thing Tim, I'm all ears?"

"I died, I really did. You can check with Mr. V if you like. Anyway, he brought me back to life, but as I died I experienced something. It's hard to explain, but it was like, wow, my brain, my thinking was so free. I didn't have to waste time with my body, and with all the other bullshit that clouds everyday thinking. The thoughts were so pure, and things I always had trouble figuring out were right there. Everything was so simple, so clear. It is so hard to describe, and it lasted for just a moment, and then I died. When I came back everything was the same as before I was shot. But, for that moment, Ann, I was something different. I didn't have the same thoughts. I wish I could explain it better."

"So what has it got to do with Arty?"

"Don't you see? He doesn't have the body to worry about. In that little moment, I felt like pure thought. I think Arty is going through the same situation, only his isn't temporary, it's permanent, and it scares the hell out of me. I think he's out of control."

"But Mr. V wouldn't let him do anything bad?"

"Mr. V has no control. He's just doing his job and that is to take care of the base. He's letting Arty do what he wants, and something smells about all those machines he's designing."

"He's just having fun. You seem to forget what he went through, and you don't hesitate to play with the machines too."

"I know, I know, but all those new machines will be automated, and armed?"

"What do you mean automated?" Ann asked.

"They don't need operators; they can work on their own."

"So?

"A neat little army of his own, is what I mean."

"Arty's not making an army, and even if he is, it's just to protect us."

"Protection, you still think he shot that plane down to protect me," Tim said.

"Yes, and you are being such a jerk about that," Ann snapped.

"A jerk, Ann, he killed a pilot for nothing! I didn't need his protection. That pilot was not after me, he didn't even know I was there, and even if he did, he couldn't have even gotten close."

"Oh Mr. big shot, you didn't need any protection," Ann said jokingly.

"That is not what I'm saying. I'm saying our TT Fighters are invincible against the ones we ran into. I'm positive I was in no danger, and Arty knew that. I'm telling you he killed that guy for sport."

"Well, that guy turned after Arty, so it was his own fault, and look what happened to Jake, his plane wasn't so invincible, was it?"

"Yeah, well, there's something fishy about that one too."

"It almost happened to you Timmy, the same damn thing, and you're telling me that, quote, 'something's fishy?'"

"Ah boy, I guess I'm just wasting my time here because you're certain I'm wrong. Well, to be honest, I really do hope I am. I don't want to see more people disappear."

"Tim, even if what you say is true, Arty wouldn't hurt us. If he's at fault; it's because he is trying to protect us, that's all."

"What about Sims?"

"Oh, Sims was being an asshole. I'll bet he ran off."

"And left his family? No, he was too close to them. Something happened to him, I'm sure of it, and I'm just as sure Arty had something to do with it. Sims was not being an asshole, he was just wary of Arty."

"We need him Tim, because it's a mess out here. Arty says that it's us against them. I trust Arty, I don't trust them. Get my drift?"

"I understand that, but I don't think you have it right. You're safe, you think? Ah—" Tim stopped talking and looked to the East.

"I think I—" Ann started to say

"Shush," Tim interrupted.

"What are you looking for?" Ann asked as she turned to look in the direction Tim was facing.

"Shhhhh, listen." Tim put his hand up toward Ann's face to keep her quiet.

"For what?" she said as she pulled her head back away from his hand.

"Listen, hear them?" Tim pointing in a southeasterly direction.

"Hear what?" Ann asked, not looking.

"Helicopters, I can hear helicopters," Tim said softly.

"Where?" Ann laughed.

"Out there." Tim pointed out to the Southeast again. "There, there, oh damn, they're headed straight for us. I wonder what they're up to?"

"Where, I still don't see them." Ann finally looked in the direction Tim was pointing.

"There, down low, just over that peak there, see them? Six of them, and they're staying low," Tim said as he hunched down and pointed again.

"Oh yeah, yeah I see them now. Hey, they are coming this way," Ann said surprised.

"Yeah, let's get back down. We don't want to be seen," Tim said, getting up.

"Oh Tim, you are so strange. You are afraid of everything. They can't see us." Ann was giggling.

Tim looked to where he had spotted the helicopters. "I don't believe you. You're the one that has to be safe at any cost, and when some danger does show up you don't recognize it. We are getting out of here now, understand?"

The choppers were still far away, but getting closer. Tim had a hold on Ann's hand, and was pulling her after him. She was following, but not without putting up a little resistance. "Will you hurry up, we don't want to be seen," Tim said.

"I thought you were invincible, why are you in such a hurry?"

"You're not! So I'm trying to protect you, keep you safe, just like Arty's trying to do, now move!" Tim gave Ann a hard pull as he looked over his shoulder.

Just above the six helicopters, Tim spotted two other aircraft. He watched them for a couple of seconds as he continued to pull Ann down into the canyon. The two new craft were moving incredibly fast and heading right for the Walls.

A few seconds later, the air around them was disrupted by a horrendous pressure, and an ear busting crash from above them. Tim instinctively dropped into a crack in the rocks, hauling Ann in after him.

Tim poked his head out of the rocks and looked to the Northwest, the spot he knew he would see the retreating jet fighters. The two F-15's were in a steep climb and would be out of sight in seconds.

There was another blast of pressure and sound from just above their heads as a second pair of planes roared over, again, well above the speed of sound. These two planes had come from the Southwest, and now it was obvious the target of their intentions was the Walls.

Tim pulled Ann out of the crack, ran to the edge of the canyon and started down. They had gotten no more than fifty feet, when a helicopter gun-ship came zooming up the canyon. Tim tried to pull Ann behind a rock, but she was struggling with him, and the helicopter spotted them. It slowed as it moved pass them, turning its nose to point directly at them. The forward momentum of the helicopter was checked and it started to drift back down the canyon, still pointing toward them.

Tim was pulling Ann along roughly and their descent down the steep rocky slope was swift and erratic.

"Down there!" someone was calling them on a bullhorn from the helicopter. The sound echoed back and forth in the rocks.

"Hello down there. We mean you no harm. Please stop before you hurt yourself. I repeat, please stop! We will help you," the caller from the helicopter said.

Tim and Ann were sliding, mostly out of control, and were almost to the bottom of the canyon when another black helicopter appeared, coming down the canyon. This one also pointed its nose in their direction as it moved toward them.

"Stop where you are!" a bullhorn on the second ship commanded.

Tim and Ann reached the bottom of the canyon in a heap. They were in the pool immediately above the one that contained the entrance to Timtown.

"Goddamn, I knew it!" Tim exclaimed.

"Knew what?" Ann asked out of breath.

"They know we're here. Shit, how the hell did they find us?" Tim yelled to be heard above the noise of the two helicopters converging on them.

"They don't know anything about us, you're just being paranoid, again," Ann yelled back.

"Bullshit, that's the army and they're looking for 'us'! I'll bet you anything," Tim yelled.

The second helicopter had moved down as far as it could go without putting itself in danger. It hovered a hundred feet above their heads.

"This is Major Warren, and I instruct you both to remain where you are. We are sending people to pick you up. We will transport you to safety. Do you understand?" the voice from the speaker boomed down on them.

"What do we do now?" Ann shouted, as Tim pulled her along the rock wall of the pool toward the next pool down.

"We get back inside, that's what," Tim explained.

"What for, they said they want to help us?" Ann yelled as they crawled along the rock wall, headed for the entrance pool.

"What do you think is going to happen when they start to wonder what we're doing up here? We look like we're in pretty good shape, considering what's been going on lately, and I don't want to explain where I got this suit of armor I'm wearing."

They had made it to the crevasse that went into the mountain and into Timtown.

"What if they can take us someplace safe? Maybe just like it used to be? Oh Tim, I want to go home. Please, I don't want to spend the rest of my life inside a mountain. Think about it? They aren't going to hurt us. I'm sure, and we can lie about what we've been doing up here. We're just kids; they'll believe us, please!" Ann's face was turned up to his, and her eyes were pleading with him.

It would be for the best, maybe, if we had been spotted by accident, but I'm sure that all these men and their machines are here to find out what's in this mountain. They will try to get the answers from Ann so she'll have to come back inside.

"Look, I don't think it would be the best thing to do, I'm—"

"You two people," The Major's loud voice interrupted Tim, "move into the open immediately! That is an order! This is Major Warren speaking, you must comply, or we will come in after you."

"We can't explain everything, so I think we should get back in now," Tim said as he activated the force field.

The solid rock shimmered and dissolved. Tim had a hold of Ann's arm and he started toward the opening. He was starting into the base, when Ann, without warning, broke his grip and ran back out between the split in the rocks.

"You dumb ass!" he screamed as he went after her.

He was too slow and by the time he got to the open part of the pool, he saw Ann run into the grasp of two soldiers at the far end. He quickly deactivated the force field and sealed Timtown from the outside.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Tim walked toward the two soldiers with a smile on his face. He had no idea what to do, how to bluff this one. Ann was standing between the two men looking bewildered.

"Hey kid, are you two okay? We were told that there wouldn't be anyone up here," one of the soldiers said.

"Yeah, we're okay. Geez it's good to see you guys. Can you get us out of here? My friend and I have been wondering what we were going to do if no one came to save us? We've been so worried. Annie, Annie, are you all right?" Tim headed straight for Ann. "I think we made it man; we're going to be all right. Oh man, we made it. We really made it." Tim hugged her and whispered in her ear. "I know you don't have any faith in me, but play along, please."

A young Lieutenant came running up from the pool below. "Henderson, what have we got here?" he asked the soldier next to Ann and Tim.

"Just a couple of kids, Sir," the soldier replied.

"The Lieutenant walked up, and looked Tim and Ann over.

"What the hell you two doing up here?" he asked.

"Ah, we used to come up here all the time," Tim answered.

"What are you doing up here, now?" the Lieutenant asked again.

"We always come up here," Tim answered.

"Look kid, I'm not trying to be a hard ass, so answer my questions, please. Why are you up here, now?"

"Because it's safe, that's why," Tim said, like it made all the sense in the world.

"I see, you have some supplies stashed up here then?"

"Ah, yeah, yeah, ah we did, but we ran out. That's why we're so glad to see you guys. We didn't know what we were going to do." Tim hoped that he sounded sincere.

"I see, so could you show me where you've been hiding out?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Oh, it's a long way away, way back up there." Tim turned and pointed up toward the mountains.

"And you were going, where?" the Lieutenant continued.

"Ah well, we weren't exactly sure. We just decided to try to find someone that could help us, and boy, were we lucky, huh? You guys came along just in time."

"I'll say, no telling who you might have run into. There's some bands of really nasty characters lose in this area," the Lieutenant commented.

"Oh boy, do we know that!

I feet better now, having finally said something truthful to this guy.

The small radio the Lieutenant was carrying in his left hand, emitted a beep.

"Could you please excuse me for a moment?" the Lieutenant asked, then turned to the soldier. "Corporal Henderson here will see to your needs. Corporal, can you take them back into that split in the rocks and make them comfortable."

"Yes, Sir," Henderson answered.

The Lieutenant made his way toward the pool below the one they were in while talking into the radio.

"Yes, I understand Major. I'm not comfortable with their explanation either. Um, yes, I see. Ah, I think it would be best to interrogate them on the spot, yes, and your ETA? Yes, Sir, only water, I understand." The Lieutenant finished his conversation and headed back toward Tim and Ann.

The two kids were sitting up against the rock wall that was really the force field leading into Timtown. The Corporal had moved to the front of the crack and was looking out into the pool.

"Wouldn't they just shit if they knew what was right behind us?" Tim whispered to Ann.

"They aren't going to hurt us are they?" Ann asked.

"I doubt it, but it's a hell of a thing to worry about, after you ran out to them." Tim's tone of voice was critical.

"I just don't want to live inside a mountain the rest of my life," Ann said aloud. "I'm not a damn gopher."

"Shuu, let's keep this stuff to ourselves, okay? And, no matter what, Timtown does not exist, correct?" Tim said softly, but with force.

"Oh, whatever you say Timmy," Ann said loudly.

"Oh come on, can't you cooperate at all anymore?" Tim said quietly.

"I'm cooperating. I agree with you. I don't want them to know about Timtown either, so there." She did turn the volume down, a bit.

"Phew, I can't believe, we finally agree on something. So we just play dumb then. We were up in the mountains, ran out of food, and were on our way down." Tim looked at Ann.

"That's the story," she returned.

The Lieutenant came back into the pool and was walking toward the Corporal. He motioned for the Corporal to move toward him.

"Henderson, did you get anything?" The Lieutenant asked.

"Not much Sir. The girl said something about inside a mountain, and I heard gopher. I figured if I got any closer, they wouldn't have said anything. Sir, they're just a couple of kids, what could they possibly know?"

"I don't know Henderson, maybe nothing, but is there anything about them that seems strange to you?"

"Um, I don't know? In the briefings, they said to expect any personnel that we might encounter would be in sad shape. Those two don't fit the picture; they look awful clean and healthy to me."

"All right Henderson!" the Lieutenant exclaimed

"Hey Lieutenant, what are we supposed to be looking for?" the Corporal asked.

"I don't know? My orders are to hold this position and to report anything unusual. Some brass is on its way, and maybe we'll get some answers when they arrive. Just stay in good listening range of those two, and try to pick something up, if you can? Water rations only. I'm going to check the other men.

Corporal Henderson returned to the beginning of the crack and took up his old position.

"A drink of water is about all I can offer you guys right now," Henderson said to Tim and Ann. "We haven't gotten our supplies down yet, anybody interested?"

"Yes, we could use a drink," Tim answered.

Henderson reached into his pack lying on the ground and pulled out a plastic water bottle, and gave it to Tim who had walked forward.

"You must be some smart kids, you two?" Henderson commented.

"Why do you say that?" Ann asked.

"Well, we've been in briefings for a week or so, about this operation and we didn't expect to find anyone up here. Especially two kids, all alone."

"It's not too safe down there, and you can trust me on that one," Tim returned.

"I believe you. We were also briefed that there were many renegade bands on the loose, and they were extremely viscous."

"Ah, yeah, that's why we headed for the hills," Tim remarked.

"Like I said, smart kids, but you're safe now."

Tim took the water, returned to the rear of the crack, and gave the bottle to Ann.

"I sure wish you hadn't done this," Tim whispered.

"Done what?" Ann said loudly.

"Shuu, that guy is listening to us," Tim scolded.

"They're all around us, aren't they Tim?" Ann snickered.

"Hey look, these guys aren't here by accident, they're looking for something," Tim whispered.

"I can't imagine what, there isn't anything up here," Ann said.

"Except Timtown," Tim commented.

"They don't know anything about that. God Tim, you're so paranoid sometimes," she said loudly.

"I told you to keep your voice down," Tim whispered, and elbowed her in the arm.

"You hit me again, and I'll tell them everything," she snarled.

Tim put his head in his hands and shook it. It would do no good arguing with her; it would only strengthen her stubbornness. Tim could hear another helicopter starting to land on the far side of the canyon rim.

"I don't know how we're going to get out of this mess?" whispered Tim.

"What mess?" Ann asked. She was still not attempting to keep her voice low.

"I'm not going to talk to you, if you don't, keep, it, down," Tim snarled under his breath.

She didn't respond, so he remained silent.

After a minute or so, Ann finally said in a quiet voice. "They'll just let us go. What else would they do with us?"

"Ann, I'll guarantee, they are not going to just let us go. Even if we convince them that we know nothing, they're still going to fly us out of here. I don't know how the hell we're going to get back?"

"Good, I don't want to come back. I don't like the way you and Arty are getting. I still think he's just trying to help, and you are just jealous."

"Enough about that, and for christ sakes, don't slip up and mention anything to these guys, please!" Tim said as he heard more people moving toward their location.

Five individuals climbed down into the dry pool from the rocks above and walked across the pool toward them. There was the Lieutenant that had left a little earlier, a Major, and another older soldier in a dress uniform with all kinds of brass and medals, and two civilians. One civilian was mid-fifties with a conventional, conservative style haircut, jeans, a rumpled golf shirt, and tennis shoes. The other one was young, mid-twenties, wearing dark sunglasses and a sweat suit.

The five stopped outside the crack and spoke with Henderson. Tim struggled to hear the conversation, but they kept their voices down.

*

"What did you get Corporal?" asked the Major.

"Not too much, Sir, they figured out I was trying to listen, and the boy was trying to keep the girl quiet, but she said something about telling us everything, and that the boy was being paranoid. Everything else was kind of confusing.

"Good work, now get yourself some chow and stay loose, we'll need you again later," said the Major.

The Major turned and walked into the crack, followed by the other men. He stopped five feet from Tim and Ann and spoke, while the others stayed back.

"All right you two, on your feet!" he commanded.

"Fuck you!" Ann returned.

The Major's face scrunched up, and his neck turned an instant red.

"Now, now Major!" said the officer with all the hardware; Tim decided he was a general. "These are civilians, not your men. Remember that we work for them."

"I'm sorry, Sir. Please except my apology," he said to Ann and Tim

"What are your names please?" he asked in a much more pleasant tone.

"I'm Tim Randell, and this is Ann Reeves."

"Tim and Ann, good. This is General Miser, and this gentleman here," the Major pointed at the older civilian, "is Mr. Adams, and over there," he pointed at the younger one, "is Randy McAllen." Each of the men smiled and nodded their heads as the Major introduced them. "And, I'm Major Warren."

The man named Adams walked over toward Tim and Ann, stopped and put down the suitcase he was carrying and smiled. He had the look of a wizened grandfather with a genuinely, friendly smile.

"Just exactly what brings you two up here?" Mr. Adams asked in a friendly tone.

"Well, like I was explaining to the other guy, we are trying to get back down to Mountain Cove," Tim answered.

"And why would you be going there?" Adams continued.

"That's where we live," Ann said sarcastically.

"Oh, have you been there since the first earthquake?" Adams pressed on.

"Just for a little while," Tim responded, "but it got really hairy, so we decided to split."

"Hairy, as in?" Adams questioned.

"As in dangerous. There's some crazy mother-fuckers running around loose down there. You guys should be taking care of them, not hassling us," Tim said lecturing.

"Are we hassling you?" Adam asked.

"Well, yeah, sort of. I mean, we've been stuck back here, and now all these questions. We haven't done anything," Tim said.

"Well, we don't know that, do we?" The young guy called Randy had stepped forward and answered Tim in a condescending tone. "We can't be sure until we get a few answers, can we, hey, we could be standing here talking to a couple of those crazy mother-fuckers you mentioned, right now, couldn't we?"

"Oh shit, come on! Do we look like we're crazy?" Tim replied annoyed.

"No not crazy, but you do appear to be mysteriously well feed, and quite clean and healthy. How do you account for that?" Randy asked.

"Just lucky," Tim said.

"Could you explain, lucky?" Randy asked.

"We have this place back up there," Tim motioned over his shoulder toward the mountains again, "that we go to all the time. We leave stuff there, and when the earthquake hit that's where we went. We just ran out of everything, so that's why we're on our way back."

"By we, you are referring to?" Randy asked quickly.

"Ann and I." Tim pointed back to her.

"Anyone else?" Randy asked.

"No, just us," Tim answered.

"Where is this place? Do you have a name for it?" Randy continued.

"No, no name. It's way back in that mountain." Tim pointed again, approximating the direction that he was making up.

"We would like to see it, Son," the General jumped in.

"What for, there's nothing there?" Tim stated.

"Then there should be no problem showing it to us, correct!" Randy stated.

Man, these guys aren't letting up. I hadn't figured anyone would be so interested as to make me prove my bullshit story, but it's obvious these people are not going to let me get off so easy. Man, I'm trapped.

"What are you guys doing up here anyway?" Tim asked.

"Son, it's business that doesn't concern you," Adams said. "Now, would you please cooperate with us, and take us to where you have been staying since the quake. You do that much for us, and then you and your friend will be flown out of here to a safe location, agreed?"

"It's getting dark, I don't think I can find it now," Tim said.

"Fair enough," the General said, "but let's not spend the night huddled here in the rocks. We have some much better accommodations. Would you please come with us?"

*

Tim and Ann got to their feet and followed the men out of the crack.

I wonder if we should try to make a break for it.

When Tim walked outside of the crack he forgot that idea. There were at least ten soldiers in and around the pool, and another ten or so on the steep slope rising to the top of the canyon. He thought about trying to get back into Timtown, but he didn't think he would have enough time to open the force field, get through, and then close the field again, without letting somebody in with him. Then it would be bad on Ann, if he left her and just disappeared.

I don't want to give up the secret of Timtown, and I'm sure this is what this is all about.

The soldiers led Ann and Tim up the West side of the walls, trying to be inconspicuous about how well they were guarding them. It was almost completely dark; the Sun had set fifteen minutes earlier. There were soldiers every twenty feet all the way to the top. At the top Tim and Ann were placed in a sleek helicopter. The General, and the two civilians climbed in behind them, but the Major stayed on the ground. Tim was glad because he didn't like the man.

Of course, at this point, he didn't want anything to do with any of them. As they were going up to the top, he had been watching Ann. She didn't show any concern about the attention they were getting, but Tim was worried because this thing was not going well.

These guys want something, and I'm sure they want to know all about Timtown. I've got to do everything I can to make sure they don't find out anything. They made no attempt to search us. We're both in shorts and light shirts, with nothing else. These gov-guys have to be wondering about that.

*

The helicopter lifted off and headed southeast, away from the desert. Nothing was said as the helicopter flew in the darkness. They had placed Ann to the rear, and him in the front, so there was no way to communicate with her. It probably wouldn't do any good at this time, so Tim was glad to be alone so he could think.

The military found us at Timtown, and after the crap Arty pulled, there's got to be a connection.

*

They traveled for approximately fifteen minutes and then settled to the ground in a well-lit compound. They were led away from the helicopter in separate directions. Tim objected, but a woman who had met the helicopter, convinced Ann that she was safe, and to come with her.

*

The General and the two civilians guided Tim toward a tent set down in a wash and instructed him to go inside. They had said little else since they had all boarded the chopper. Tim went inside, and the others stayed outside. There was nothing in the tent except: a desk, a chair, and a cot. He waited and waited, but no one entered. He finally sat down on the cot, and after a couple of minutes laid down.

They are going to make it confusing for me, I'm sure of that. They were going to make me wonder.

Chapter 20

Return to Timtown

Tim was awakened by Randy a little later. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, he looked around. They were alone in the tent. He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping, but it hadn't been long.

"Mr. Randell, you are who you said you were. I can give you that much," Randy said.

Tim stared at the man for a while, neither of them talking.

If this guy wants anything he is going to have to start.

Randy was making concerned faces at Tim, but Tim just returned a blank expression.

"I'm not quite sure where to start. Do you have any idea why we wish to talk to you?" Randy questioned.

"No, no idea at all," Tim said.

"Aahaa, well Tim Randell, let me ask you this? Have you seen anything out of the ordinary, lately?"

"World's all fucked up, earthquake you know," Tim said monotone.

"Besides the earthquake, anything you might wonder about? Ah, weird shit?"

"It's all been weird, christ man, get a grip. I wasn't kidding about the world being fucked up. Where the hell have you been lately?" Tim snarled.

"What we want to know, Tim Randell; is where have you been?"

"Up in those damn mountains, trying to save my butt."

"Do you have any family?" Randy asked.

"Ah, my mother was killed in the earthquake. Ah, and I have a brother that's in a hospital and my father is long gone."

"This brother, he was a navy flyer, Arty? Am I correct?"

"Say, how come you know so much? You never asked me anything at all, before."

"I'm just trying to impress upon you that we know a lot more. So lying to us will do you no good." Randy looked Tim straight in the eyes.

"Well, if you know so much, why don't you fill 'me' in?"

"If you wish. Mr. Adams," Randy called loudly, "I think it's time we get down to some serious business." The door to the tent opened, and the older civilian Tim had met earlier walked in.

"Hello Tim, I'm Ed Adams," he said.

"Hello," Tim responded.

"For starters," Ed said, "I'm going to tell you what we do know, and then I'll tell you what we don't. But—before I start—I want you to know this is a serious time and we are serious men. Do you understand?"

"I can appreciate that," Tim said.

"Okay, good! Now your brother, Arty, was taken from the VA hospital three weeks ago," Ed said.

"What? Is he okay?" Tim hoped he sounded surprised. "Oh shit, who would want to—"

"You took him!" Randy interrupted. "So just cease with the bullshit."

"You guys are nuts," Tim countered.

"We have a beautiful picture of you in the hospital corridor, Tim, and a lot of great eyewitness accounts of you being there. Oh, and Ann, they remember Ann very well," Ed countered back.

"Why would I take my brother from a hospital? He was sick, dying, that's what the doctor told my mother."

"Well, that's one of the things we want to know," Randy added, a grin on his face. "Oh, and Tim, by the way, you have been charged with a number of crimes, and if you don't produce Arty—alive—real quick, murder will be added. Do you want to enlighten us now?"

"I haven't done anything, you can't charge me," Tim argued.

"We're the government," Randy leaned forward, "we can charge you for breathing our air without a permit, if we want."

Ed Adams reached into the briefcase he had brought in with him and pulled out a file. He opened the file and pulled out some papers, handing them to Tim.

"Read!" he instructed.

Tim saw 'Justice Department of the United Stated of America', first, then his name, and 'To wit's and Here-fore's' all over the place. He paged through the six pages quickly. They weren't playing games according to this. His name appeared often and he was charged with some horrendous crimes: assault with a deadly weapon, nine counts, kidnapping, assault with the intent to commit murder. The list went on and on.

"This is a bunch of shit!" Tim announced offensively.

"This is two hundred years in prison!" Randy shouted. "And if we don't find Arty, add another hundred. You will never see the outside world again. Now, are you enlightened enough to deal?"

"What are you talking about? First you threaten me with prison, now a deal. I have no idea what you want to deal about."

"Gutsy little bastard isn't he," Randy said to Ed, "I think maybe we have to get real nasty."

Randy looked intently at Tim, smiling. "Do you know what an accessory is Tim?"

"What are you getting at?" Tim asked. I'll bet the rotten SOBs are going to threaten Ann, to get to me.

"An accessory to these crimes would get an accomplice, oh let's say, a hundred years in prison. Now, with just a hundred years, you realize, for just being along and not being the leader might allow that accomplice to get a parole after; let's just say, maybe, oh thirty, maybe forty years. She's going to be really old Tim. Think about it," Randy said with the same smile.

"Boy are you an asshole!" Tim snarled.

"I'm supposed to be Tim," Randy returned. "Oh, and you have committed some serious crimes so that makes you a much bigger asshole, and dangerous to society; at a time of a national crisis, I might add. If you don't cooperate, 'I can lock you up and throw away the key'. Excuse the cliché, but that's how it is. Now talk!"

"Okay, let's say there's something to all this, what's the deal?"

"First, Ann goes free, not a thing even mentioned. No one will ever know she was even there," Randy said.

"And me?"

"Tim, I can't promise anything specific, but I can tell you; if you do work with us on this thing you will be considered one of us and we protect our own. That I can guarantee. Would that be a summation on your part too?" Randy asked Ed.

"That's the way it is Tim. Randy is telling you the truth. We don't think you did anything to purposely hurt anyone. As a matter of fact, it is apparent you went out of your way to accomplish your mission with a minimum of force. You were quite successful, except for the one cop that has some nasty burns on his face and hands. He's still mad at you—by the way—but he'll get over it."

"We need your help Tim," Randy jumped in. "We need to know what the hell is going on in that mountain. I can tell you, we had a hell of a time convincing the key people against assaulting that place. I'm sure you can add some light on that decision. Where we right to be prudent?"

"Okay, I'm not going to play stupid anymore. Yes, you were very wise to advise whoever not to use force, but I can't tell you much more, I'm sorry."

Ed took his turn. "Okay, I can see where you're coming from. It's not in your control, so whatever we are dealing with is not your baby, correct?"

"That's about it," Tim stated.

"What is in that mountain Tim? Can you tell us that much?" Randy had moved forward on his chair and was looking intently at Tim. Ed moved closer also.

"It's something way out of your league guys, and the Army out there too. It is something you should just walk away from, trust me."

"And how are you involved?" Randy asked.

"I'm beyond your reach." Tim grinned.

"What do you mean by that?" Ed asked with a look of disbelief on his face.

"I mean fellows, I can get up right now and walk out of here, and there isn't a thing you can do about it."

"There are perhaps a hundred heavily armed men close by Son," Ed asked incredulous. "Are you trying to tell me they can't stop you either?"

"That's about it," Tim stated.

"You expect us to believe that?" Randy asked.

"Believe what you want," Tim said as he slumped more comfortably onto the cot.

"And the girl?" Ed asked.

"She is protected by me."

"And what could you do to insure her protection?" Randy asked.

"How about a hundred heavily armed 'dead men'?"

"You don't mean that!" Randy shouted as he sat up straight.

"To protect her, I sure as hell do," Tim declared, leaning forward.

"Do you realize you are threatening the government of the 'United States of America'?" Randy stated.

"How many more years will that get me?" Tim snickered.

"Son, if you are so confident now, why did you allow us to bring you here? You could have just walked away long before this?" Ed asked.

"It would have made you suspicious—and at the time—I didn't know you knew as much as you do. Now it doesn't matter, and I am going to leave with Ann, whether you or anybody else likes it or not. Can I ask a couple questions?"

"Certainly," Ed said.

"How do you know so much about me?"

"We are in that business, Son," Ed answered.

"Couldn't you be a little more specific? After all, it's me you're so interested in. How did you guess?"

"You left quite a spectacular trail; going into the hospital and floating your brother out through a third story window on a halo of light, and the laser weapon, or whatever it was you used? It can stun a person, or blow the crap out of an automobile. You didn't think anyone would notice?" Ed said.

"Well, in all the confusion I didn't think anyone would really check, but how did you know it was me?"

"Oh, we didn't really know anything until we found you and started running tests," Ed said.

"What tests, you didn't run anything on me?"

"Oh yes we did my Boy, extensive tests on you and the girl, and do you know what we found?" Ed said.

"How?"

"I probably shouldn't be telling you this—but under the circumstances—considering we need to cooperate, I will. I brought a suitcase into that little cave. It was jammed full of sensors and other equipment, so technical you wouldn't believe it," Ed explained.

"Whanna bet?" Tim laughed.

"Ah ha," Randy laughed. "I'm sure you must have access to some pretty advance technology yourself. Am I right?"

"That Randy, is an understatement."

"I'll bet on that," Ed added. "Anyway the sensors left us with no doubt about you."

"What did they show?" Tim asked.

"Nothing." It was Ed's turn to laugh.

"Huh? Why would that make you suspicious?" Tim questioned.

"Tim, according to the sensors, you were not there. We couldn't get any finger prints either, but we were standing there talking to you and we also got great pictures of you. But the girl was there according to the machines, and we obtained prints from her. Wouldn't that mean something to you?" Ed explained.

"That would make me curious, I suppose," Tim admitted.

"Curious, you've got some people really scared. They are crapping their pants. Do you know who I work for?" Ed asked.

"The government?"

"Yes, that's correct, but my boss, the man that I report to directly, is the President of the United States," Ed said.

"Whoa, you know him?" Tim asked.

"That's right Son, Mr. Big himself, and he wants to know so he sent me out here to find out," Ed said

"I would be willing to talk to him."

"Oh really! Randy shouted. "Tim, what's wrong with you? You think the President talks to just anyone?"

"Hey, I'm not just anyone, trust me," Tim said proudly.

"I'm sorry Tim," Ed said, "but at this time it would be impossible. But, if you are willing to shed some light on what's going on, I'm sure it could be arranged, fair enough?"

"Fair enough. I want you to both know this is a dangerous situation, and I have to go with caution. I'll tell you what I think I can, but no more. Not at this time anyway."

"Okay, I need to know one thing. It is very important." Ed leaned forward again.

"I'll try," Tim returned.

"There was an incident a while back. A couple of Air Force F-16's had a strange encounter. A plane was brought down and the pilot was killed. Do you know anything about it?"

"Shit!" Tim exclaimed. So that's what this is all about? That damn Arty did it. If he hadn't shot that plane down, they probably wouldn't be here. What the hell do I say now? I don't have any lies that will work.

"Son, that F-16 was brought down by a very advanced craft, and it fired lasers. The reports from the hospital and the downing of our plane describe the same type of weapon. Son, did you shoot down one of our planes?" Ed had a serious, concerned look on his face.

"No, I didn't."

"That strange craft was reported in the area where we found you and the girl. Are you sure that you didn't have anything to do with it?"

"Yes!"

"Do you know who did?" Ed asked.

"Fuck!" Tim exclaimed.

"I'll tell you right now, we have questioned the girl and she confirms, you did not do it," Randy said.

"What did you do to her?" Tim jumped up from the cot, and Randy jumped back with a look of fear on his face, but Ed stood his ground.

"The girl is fine, believe me because I would not allow that sort of shit. We simply drugged her and it'll cause her no problems." Randy had his hands up, the palms facing Tim. He was afraid of Tim, that was evident.

"You bastards, how dare you? You get her here, now! Do you read me?" Tim commanded.

"Now settle down, dammit!" Ed returned sternly. "It's simple, and the safest way. You wouldn't want somebody bullying her, and believe me, they are scared enough to try anything. You know in a way it's your fault because you sit here and act so smug."

"I want to see Ann, now, before we go any farther!"

"She's not here, but you will see her, and I repeat, she is fine. Tim, I guarantee it, and the President guarantees it, okay?" Ed said.

"I'm not saying a damn thing until you get her here, is that clear?"

"Just a minute then," Ed said as he motioned Randy to go outside. "Get the comm link, he's the boss," Ed said, as Randy went out through the door.

*

Randy went outside. Tim and Ed sat there looking at each other expressionless for the minute it took Randy to return with a cellular phone. Randy walked over to Tim and handed it to him.

"She's on the line," he said, handing the phone to Tim.

"Hello, Ann can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you," she said. The tone told Tim she still had that attitude.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. What's with all these basic questions?"

"I'm concerned about you."

"Hey, I'm doing fine. They're nice people, not the ogres you predicted."

"Oh, okay. Have they been asking many questions?"

"Yeah a bunch, but I don't know anything though. They think there's something weird going on in the mountains. I told them the weirdness is down below, in Mountain Cove."

"I'm trying to get them to bring you back, do you know where you are now?"

"Yeah, they just took me for a helicopter ride, and we landed just outside Mountain Cove."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. We went right over my house. They were trying to help me find Brillo Pad, poor horsey. I hope she got away."

"I do too," Tim said.

"Look, I have to go because they want me to get a checkup, and then I'm supposed to be meeting you sometime this morning, got to go, bye."

Tim put the phone on the table and looked at Ed. "Was this staged?"

"No, we aren't that brilliant. Ann says that Arty was the one that shot down the F-16. Is that possible?"

"I told you, I'm not saying another thing until Ann is standing right here. That's it! You come through, and we can talk."

Tim looked to the door as someone was walking through. It was the General, and the Major Tim didn't like.

"Gentlemen, it seems this lad here is not willing to cooperate," the General said.

"That is not your concern General, you've done your job," Ed returned.

"Yeah, well, if I was in charge he'd talk," the General spouted off.

"If you were in charge," Tim responded snottily, "you'd get your ass fried, Sir!"

The General shot an incredulous look at Tim. "You little ass, I—"

"Shut up General!" Ed interrupted quickly.

"I don't know where you get your pull?" the General fumed. "This whole area is under martial law, and I'm instructed to follow your orders? It's a bunch a horse crappy, if you ask me?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Ed said. He turned back to Tim. "Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"I'm thirsty as hell, but I don't trust you guys," Tim answered discourteously.

"I see, Major, give Tim your water," Ed instructed.

"Whoa just a minute, you guys might be smarter than you look," Tim said. "I'll pick my own water."

"Pretty cautious, I'm impressed," Randy said.

"Would you like to step to the door then?" Ed asked.

Tim went to the door and looked out. There were about twenty soldiers in sight, some standing, some in a couple of other tents with the sides up. He spotted a couple soldiers off to the left, digging in the ground. They were about the farthest away.

"There, either one of those." Tim pointed.

"Major, would you instruct those two soldiers to come here please," Ed said.

The Major called, and the soldiers walked over. Tim took one of their water bottles and drank deeply, then was going to give it back. Ed instructed him to keep it.

"I imagine food is out of the question?" Randy asked.

"I imagine, unless you get the Major there to chew on it first," Tim returned with the same curt tone.

"You'll change your tune when you get good and hungry," the said General sarcastically.

"I won't be here long enough, to get hungry." Tim glared at the General.

"Boy, a real confident dude aren't you," the General sputtered. "You little shit, if I was in charge you'd—" the General spit out the words.

"Well, you're not, thank God!" Ed stepped forward, facing the General.

Tim stuck his tongue out at the General. The man's face went red, but he was silent. He gave Tim an awful look, spun on his heels, and walked quickly out of the tent. The Major followed him.

"That was a silly thing to do," Ed lectured sternly. "He is trained to be that way, and you shouldn't provoke someone like that. You never know where it might lead, Sonny Boy."

"I know, but he thinks he's in charge, and I don't like to be pushed around," Tim said.

"Look Son, there's always someone that will be able to tell you what to do, always," Ed tried to explain.

"Not me!" Tim stated.

"What's that suppose mean?" Ed asked annoyed.

"Nothing!" Tim changed the subject. "When is Ann going to get here? I'm sure you'd like to have that little talk."

"She will be here shortly," Randy said. He and Ed excused themselves and left the tent.

*

Tim laid back on the cot and waited. I'm going to have to play this thing tough if I'm going to get us both out of this dilemma. At least I've got their attention.

Tim was having trouble staying awake. But I can't take the chance of falling asleep because I'm certain I can't trust these bozos. Both Ed and Randy had left the tent, but there were plenty of guards right outside the door. He had checked. He was getting impatient, and suspected they were going to stretch his tolerance to the limit.

*

Later, he was just about to yell for someone from the door of the tent when he spotted Ed headed his way.

"I just got word, your friend will be here in ten minutes," Ed said as he closed the distance to the tent. "What are your intentions then, may I ask?"

"I really don't know. You got any suggestions?" Tim asked.

"Like I said before, you cooperate with us, and you'll have nothing to worry about."

"I don't know if I can, but we'll discuss it when Ann's here."

*

A helicopter was coming into view from the Northwest, the direction of Mountain Cove.

Tim watched it descend and land.

When the rotors began to slow, a woman dressed in fatigues jumped down, followed by Ann. Ann was smiling and having a conversation with the woman as they walked toward Tim.

When Ann saw Tim, she hurried her pace.

"Hi, glad to see ya. I've been having a great time. Tim, this is Lieutenant Nelson," Ann introduced the woman. "She's really neat. We flew over everything, and it sure looks awful. What have you been doing?"

"Mostly waiting for you," Tim responded.

"Why?"

"Can we talk about this, alone?" Tim asked.

"Oh Tim, it's no big deal. They haven't even asked me a thing," she leaned over and whispered, 'lately'."

"Can we just talk alone, please, everyone?" Tim looked around to the woman and to Ed who was standing fairly close by.

Tim took Ann's arm and led her around to the side of the tent, then away from it a few feet.

"I think it's time we go, don't you?" he asked Ann.

"I'm not sure I want to, if you mean back?"

"Don't start that silly thing again," Tim said as he winked and tried to gesture to Ann to be quiet about the subject. "We don't want to stay with these guys because we can make it on our own, what'cha say?" Tim asked.

"I don't think I want to Tim. They'll take me someplace safe, so you won't have to worry. Please, I don't want to go back there," Ann pleaded.

"What about your cabin?"

"Oh Tim, it was just something to pass the time, that's all. I know you want to go back, so go. I just wouldn't be happy. We will see each other again, I promise."

I'm in a Catch-22. They know about Timtown, or know something is there. They don't know exactly what it is, but they want it, and probably will stop at nothing to get it. I also know that at all costs I must keep them out, even if it means drastic measures. I don't want to argue with Ann, which probably won't get me anywhere, anyway, but she has to come back with me. They'll use her to make me comply. Damn her. I tried to get her to wear one of the protection suits, but she refused. They can't hurt me, but she is vulnerable. How the hell do I get them to let Ann and me go. Ed might be the only hope. I think I might be able to deal with Ed.

Tim walked back around the tent and called to Ed.

"Now we talk, where?" Tim asked, as he walked up.

"What would make you comfortable?" Ed answered.

"Someplace with just you and I, oh, and Ann has to be there."

Ed walked up close to Tim and leaned over, "She's bugged."

"I figured that. Can't we take them off her?" Tim asked.

"I can't, because they don't belong to me, but why does she have to be there?" Ed asked.

"So she's safe."

"Tim, she's safe. No one is going to jeopardize this whole mission by hurting an innocent girl. They would pay dearly and they know it."

"What if we don't make a deal?" Tim questioned.

"If you feel that you 'can't', or 'won't' deal with me, she will not be used as leverage."

"I don't trust you," Tim said matter of factually.

"Let me ask you this; how much does she know?"

"That's not relevant to me. I want her in my sight 'at all times', understand?" Tim commanded.

"Yes, yes I do. I'm beginning to admire you Son. You do mean business."

"You're damn right I do. Mr. Adams, please understand this is serious business, maybe the most serious business of your life."

"Now, I'm really interested. We need to find a place to talk that's not open to other ears, am I correct? Oh, and Ann is to be rid of the little bugs? Would that suit you?"

"If you can guarantee all that, you bet. And Mr. Ed Adams, you have to be clean also."

"Son, I work directly for the President. No one puts a bug on me."

"I'm not worried about you for christ sakes; I'll be talking to you."

"Look, I'm an adviser to the President. I analyze what I hear and I give a summary, along with my recommendations to him. Nobody, I repeat, nobody supersedes what I do. Got that?"

"Yeah, I'm impressed."

"Well, what can we do? Have you got any suggestions?" Ed asked.

"We could talk right where you guys grabbed us."

"Oh, and it would be a short hop to safety for you."

"Yes, is there anything wrong with that?" Tim asked.

"I doubt the military would go for that," Ed replied.

"The farther I have to go to get back, the more people will get hurt," Tim stated firmly.

"You're serious then?" Ed paused for a moment. "Are you telling the truth about nobody being able to stop you?"

"Yes!"

"You will kill to get free?"

"If I have to protect Ann, yes."

"I take it Ann is not privileged to your skills?"

"She has me, and that is enough for now. Are we going to get on with this, I mean, I have some things you will be fascinated with? You will be totally amazed Mr. Adams. Do you want that?"

"Yes, but I have to call my boss. He's the only one that can okay something like this."

"Get on it," Tim said.

*

"This is ridiculous!" General Miser roared. "I'm not going to authorize this fucking thing. We have that little bastard, and now you want to let him go. Jesus H Christ man, what the fuck is on your mind. If I do this, I'll be a goddamn private by next week."

"General, I'm going over your head, way over, so don't worry about your ass. If I get this okayed it will be out of your hands," Ed said.

"Okayed, oshmayed, what the fuck is the difference? Do you know what my bosses are going to do to me if I let this kid go? We have somebody that possibly possesses military secrets, and in my book that constitutes a 'national threat', and you want to let him go! That, Mr. Adams, is against the law. You or anybody else cannot, I repeat, cannot break the law."

"Your interpretation of the law is correct, but your definition of the subject is incorrect. It seems to me, we want to steal what he has. Maybe he'll want to prosecute us? Did that ever cross your mind, General?"

"You think this kid is really something, don't you? This goddamn kid has got you scared shitless! Pussies!"

"General, you piss me off and you won't have to worry about your current bosses. Your next trouble will be with your new boss, an assistant manager of a McDonalds on Guam. You get my drift?"

The General was tight lipped as Ed continued.

"There is a distinct possibility that this kid can lay you and your boys to waste. So smarten up, and keep quiet!"

*

A radio operator in the command center indicated to Ed that his call to the White house had gone through. Ed instructed everyone to leave, and the General gave the command with disdain on his face.

Ed gave his summation to the President, and they talked for a short period.

"Yes, Sir, I think that's the only way to proceed. He hasn't really elaborated, so I can't comment on what little I know, but I think we have to do this thing his way for now. If we don't, we may lose any chance to find out what's in there. That's my recommendation."

Ed listened for a moment and then spoke again.

"Thank you Mr. President, I won't let you down. What would be the best way to get this thing implemented, quickly? The military smucks here are ready to revolt. I swear they'd try fighting anything with sticks."

Ed listened again, and then spoke. "I know that's the way they're supposed to be, but somebody is going to get hurt."

Ed listened some more.

"Yes Sir, I think he'd go for it. I'll try, thank you."

*

Within fifteen minutes, General Miser got a phone call he didn't like, from someone obviously equally as perturbed about the orders as he was.

"Bullshit!" he bellowed at Ed. "This is a bunch of shit."

"Just do your job. You can complain all you want afterwards," Ed ordered.

*

Ed went back to Tim with the news of his success with Tim's request. Ed was relieved. He had worried about not getting permission to take Tim and Ann back. He was convinced; the kid was indeed dangerous. Most important, he wanted to find out what was going on in that mountain, and it would be difficult with bullets and laser beams flying everywhere.

Tim asked Ed to bring Ann back, and Ed left the tent to get her. He returned a couple of minutes later with a cellular phone. Ed shrugged and gave the phone to Tim. "You'll have to talk to her because I can't get anywhere."

No doubt he's been talking to Ann, Tim thought as he took the phone.

*

Nothing worked and nothing was going to. Ann was already on a chopper and was not going to come back. Her mind was made up and that was that. Tim would have to go back without her.

He wasted no time in trying to manipulate Ed.

"I want you to guarantee Ann will be safe, and that she will not be bothered about this whole thing. She can't do a thing for you. You do this now, otherwise I'm going to make a statement, a very physical statement, and then you will get nothing," Tim said the whole thing seriously.

"Just a minute, I have to call my boss again," Ed said as he left the tent again.

*

Ed returned a couple of minutes later.

"Ann is directly under the protection of the President," Ed said. "They are waiting for the chopper, and when it arrives they will take Ann and put her aboard Air Force One, the President's personal plane. I can guarantee her safety."

"You expect me to go on that alone?" Tim asked.

"I do because it is my word also, and if I don't come through, you won't. It's that simple. Do you know the President has put his butt on the line for you? Don't let him down!" Ed reiterated.

"If she's safe, I'll give you as much as I think I can, and if we work together, this whole situation can be figured out. I want it to turn out for the best, believe me. Otherwise I wouldn't still be here," Tim said.

*

Randy returned with the confirmation; the three of them would be taken out to the Walls by chopper in ten minutes. Randy, Ed, and Tim left the tent and headed toward the helo pad. They had gotten halfway when Tim spotted the nasty Major headed toward them.

The Major stopped just as he reached them and spoke. "We'll be lifting off real quick. What are the exact coordinates?" The Major directed the question to Ed.

"You know them, Major," Ed answered. "You are to return us to the same place that we found Tim at."

"I see, and then we question him there? Is that the plan?" the Major asked.

"That is not the plan, Major. You are requested to just get us there, and then you back off. Is that understood?" Ed said in an annoyed voice.

"Sorry gentlemen, but I have my orders. You won't be getting rid of me that easy," the Major said with a smirk on his face.

"You get me Miser! Now Major!" Ed said loudly.

"Sorry Mr. Adams, but the General has left and cannot be raised."

"Look you military genius," Ed's voice was raised, "I don't know what kind of crap you're trying to pull here, but you have gotten your orders, and you are to deliver myself, Mr. McAllen here, and Mr. Randell to a set of coordinates, and then make yourself scarce until your presence is requested again. Do I make myself clear?"

"No Sir, that is not clear, Sir!" The Major stood tall, stretching to look more attuned to his new and important mission. "My orders are to transport the prisoner to a set of coordinates and assist in the interrogation of that prisoner. I am ordered to gain access to whatever information he is hiding, no matter what!" The Major spouted as he quickly drew his pistol and pointed it at Tim. "If the prisoner does not cooperate, I am to use any necessary means to extract the information we desire. If the prisoner attempts to escape, I will, and I repeat, I will shoot the prisoner."

"You blithering idiot, I hope you didn't come up with this on your own," Ed said, as numerous soldiers with their weapons drawn, surrounded Ed, Tim and Randy.

"No, Mr. Adams, this is a direct order from a superior, and you will comply!" Major Warren stated.

"You had better get Miser on the phone, now, you shit head!" Ed shouted.

"General Miser has been called away on a delicate mission and can't be contacted. My orders have been given to me, and that gentleman, is that." The smirk on Major Warren's face was growing with his confidence.

"Get me a phone!" Ed yelled.

"Sorry Sir, can't do that. I have my orders," the Major returned.

Ed and the Major continued to argue. Randy stood back with his mouth open, watching the soldiers around him with suspicion. Tim noticed that all the soldier's weapons were pointed directly at him.

"Major," Tim spoke up.

"Shut up, you little bastard! You will speak, only when spoken to," the Major snarled.

"Major," Tim said again a little louder, "I think—"

"I told you to 'shut the fuck up'!" The Major screamed.

"Major, you are not listening," Tim tried again. "Major I don't—"

The Major's face turned crimson and he shouted, with spittle flying, "Shuuuuutttt up!"

"Fuck you, you squirrel!" Tim said defiantly.

The Major's face now went white. "You stupid little bastard," he said through clenched teeth, "don't threaten me. Your little friend is in a very precarious spot. Don't get her sweet ass in deeper than she already is!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ed shouted. At the same time Randy also jumped forward, yelling at the Major. All the soldiers jumped back.

The Major was yelling about how the General had personally taken Ann and was going to get the information he wanted, one way or another. Ed wanted a phone, Randy was yelling about nobody listening, and half the soldiers had lowered their weapons. The yelling continued until Tim pointed his left hand at the middle of the hill behind the Major and fired. The energy beam, at full charge, blew out a considerable bunch of rocks, and the noise stopped the argument, sending the soldiers, the Major, Ed, and Randy diving for cover. A lieutenant, with the soldiers, had seen Tim fire the energy beam and remained on his feet.

The Major was the first on his feet. "Set up a perimeter!" he screamed. "Lieutenant, get some men up that hill, then get some men down that wash, and get some men—"

"Sir," the Lieutenant said to the excited Major, but the Major wasn't listening; he was just spouting more orders. "Get some men here, get some men there."

"Sir," the Lieutenant tried again. "Sir!" he finally shouted above the Major.

"Lieutenant, you are not following my orders!" the Major shrieked. "We are under attack, and you aren't following my orders! I'll have you shot!"

"Sir, we aren't under attack," the Lieutenant repeated.

"I want a perimeter set up!" the Major screamed.

"Major, the perimeter is secure. Sir, we are not under attack! Sir, the kid did it." The Lieutenant pointed at Tim.

"I want a perimeter!" continued the Major.

"Sir, the perimeter has been in place since we got here," the Lieutenant tried again.

"Someone has breached it!" the Major was still shouting. "Goddammit, you, there," the Major pointed at some soldiers, 'get that perimeter secured'!" the Major was now shouting orders to anyone that would listen.

Tim watched as soldiers ran everywhere. The Lieutenant was trying to explain the situation to the Major while watching the perimeter, he had established the night before, crumble as the soldiers ran amuck. The Lieutenant looked at Tim, shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. Ed and Randy had gotten up and were dusting themselves off.

"Major." The Lieutenant was finally able to get the Major's attention only because the officer had tired himself out with the constant barrage of orders. "Major, the kid did it."

The Major looked at the Lieutenant for a moment. "The kid?"

"Yes, Sir. I think he used that laser we heard about. He blew a big hole in the side of the hill, there." The Lieutenant pointed to the hole that still had wisps of smoke curling out.

The Major turned to Tim, and then he looked back to the Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant, he isn't armed. He doesn't have anything on him," the Major said.

"Sir, I specifically saw an extremely powerful energy beam originate from his left hand, and strike the hill, there, Sir." The Lieutenant was smiling in Tim's direction.

"Lieutenant, do you see the kid with anything that could possible contain a weapon big enough, 'to cause a hole like that'?" the Major said the last part loud and forceful. "I will tell you, once again, that we are under attack, and if you don't follow my orders, immediately, I will personally shot you right here and now," The Major said as he raised his pistol at the Lieutenant's head.

The Lieutenant raised his hands like he was trying to protect his head. "Sir, again, we are not under attack. I think you might find out if I'm right by simply asking, ah—" The Lieutenant turned to Tim. "What's your name?" he asked Tim.

"Tim Ra—" Tim started to say before the Major cut him off.

"Shut the fuck up!" the Major screamed at Tim. "I did not ask you to speak!" He turned back to the Lieutenant. "And as for you Lieutenant, you really blew it!" The Major straightened his arm and looked like he was going to shot the Lieutenant, but before he could, Tim fired a charge from his right hand that slapped the Major's arm all the way around his chest and spun him to the ground. The pistol went flying out of his hand.

The Major rolled over to his knees and slowly tried to stand. Tim was somewhat surprised because all the other people he had hit with the stun had been knocked cold. He had only hit the Major in the hand, though.

"Shoot them. . .shoot them both, now," the Major ordered weakly.

"Don't anyone shoot anybody, and that is a bigger order!" Ed commanded.

The Lieutenant held his hands up. "Stop this! You men, put down your weapons. Now!" he ordered sternly.

"Shoot them," the Major moaned.

"Major, I'm relieving you of your command," Ed jumped in. "Lieutenant, take over."

"I don't know Sir?" The Lieutenant said uncertainly to Ed. "I don't think—"

"Lieutenant, I work directly for the President and—"

"Shoot them," the Major interrupted.

"And he is your Commander-in-Chief," Ed continued forcefully, "and I am placing you in charge. Now, take command Lieutenant!"

The Lieutenant looked around at the men and then down to the Major who was still mumbling. "Shoot them, shoot them." He looked at Tim, shook his head again and said, "Oh man. . .All right you men, you heard the man. Sergeant," the Lieutenant pointed at one of the men, "please help the Major."

Then the Lieutenant shouted at his men, "Get a Medic up here on the double, and put your weapons down, dammit! There will be no shooting! That is an order!"

Tim had relaxed because the situation looked like it had settled down. He stepped toward the Lieutenant, to thank him, and was hit hard in the back of the head. There was an accompanying explosion. He was propelled forward by the impact and went halfway down to his knees. He spun around immediately and saw that one of the soldiers had shot him with a forty-five pistol. The soldier had a strange, shocked look on his face as he pulled the trigger again. The second shot hit Tim square in the face, snapping his head backwards, and throwing him to the ground. He heard two more shots in quick succession, both hitting him in the side. Although the bullets couldn't hurt him, there was still enough force on the energy field to toss him around. He spun quickly to the side, and flattened onto his stomach as he stuck out his right hand. The soldier with the pistol was in front of Tim, and still had the pistol aimed right at him.

Tim fired, and the soldier buckled, dropping to the ground.

Tim could hear the Lieutenant, shouting, "Cease fire, cease fire!" through all the yelling and shouting.

Ed and Randy ran to Tim, both with a look of disbelief on their faces. Tim jumped up and said. "Now do you believe me?"

"Medic, get a Medic over here!" Randy shouted.

*

It took a few moments for everything to die down, but the Lieutenant did manage to restore order.

"My god, are you okay Son?" Ed asked.

"Of course! I told you! You guys can't hurt me!" Tim exclaimed proudly.

"I don't believe it! How can bullets just bounce off like that?" Randy asked excited. "You're not even covered or anything."

"It's a force field," Tim answered.

The Medic arrived. Although Tim assured them he was fine, they insisted on checking him out. It didn't go far because the Medic was unable to get a pulse from Tim. "Shit, he's been dead for a week anyway," joked the Medic, and everyone laughed.

The Major was still yelling orders to everyone, but they had taken his pistol away, and he was forced to sit. That didn't stop him from continuing to threaten the Lieutenant, until Ed told the Medic to give him a shot, to shut him up.

The Lieutenant, on the other hand, was issuing orders and everyone was listening. He had a chopper warming up, and in a couple of minutes; it would take Ed, Randy, and Tim back to the Walls. Ed insisted, the Lieutenant accompany them also.

"I'm really pissed about them taking Ann." Tim growled angrily to Ed. "I think you had better get in touch with someone, and inform them that she is to be left alone, otherwise I'll come and get her, and I can, you know that now."

"Don't worry Son," Ed returned, "General Miser is being met by the President's own security branch. They have orders from the President himself to take her into their care, and when they have been entrusted with the care of someone, that person is well protected."

"I don't want anyone trying to extract information from her," Tim added. "I mean it, that's part of the deal."

"Tim, those people protect, it's not their job to get information. Don't worry, I am not going to jeopardize our deal," Ed said, as they headed for the chopper.

*

The flight back to the Walls took just a few minutes. They landed at the top of the canyon, on the West side, and Ed, Randy, and Tim hopped out. Ed instructed the Lieutenant to make sure no one came down into the canyon. The Lieutenant was extremely nervous. He had gotten a call on the radio, and his ass had been chewed out and threatened. Ed had intervened, but it was in question if he had the right to call off the Major, like he did. He put through a call, as soon as the incident at the command post had calmed down, but he had been unable to talk, personally, with the President. Sides were being drawn, and Ed hoped he could diffuse the other side before it was too late for the Lieutenant's sake.

The three of them were quiet as they descended into the bottom of the Walls. Tim led them into the crack before he said anything.

"How did you figure out this place was out of the ordinary? I mean, I can see where I might have created a little attention at the hospital, and the plane thing would've been unusual too, but you knew exactly where to come."

"The hawk!" Randy stated.

"What hawk?" Tim asked.

"A hawk flew into an air-base and crashed through the Commander's window," Ed chuckled.

"So what does a hawk have to do with this place?" Tim asked.

"A mechanical hawk?" Randy said.

"Oh, oh, I'll bet no one's seen anything like that before, huh?" Tim snickered.

"An understatement Tim. Do you know anything about it?" Randy asked.

"No, honestly, I didn't send it out. It crashed through a window?"

"At an important location, extremely sensitive," Randy explained.

"What did it do then?" Tim asked.

"Nothing," Randy said. "At first they thought it was dead. Somebody was about to put it in the trash, I guess, but it came alive. Then it walked over to a computer and pecked out a message. I guess the whole thing caused quite a stir."

"I'll bet. That still doesn't explain why you came here? What was the message?"

"Take me to your leader," Randy laughed.

"Whoa," Tim laughed back, "but that still doesn't explain why you guys came here?"

"It typed out these coordinates," Randy said.

"Positively?" Tim asked.

"Right to your door, and it typed out that it had left those coordinates three days earlier," Randy continued. "Did it come from here?"

"Oh, it came from here all right, but I don't know who sent it," Tim lied.

I hate to, but considering the mindset of the people I'm going to have to deal with, if I even hinted that Arty might have some influence, the whole thing will be lost. No one is going to give a fifteen year old any consideration over a former Navy pilot. I'm going to get swept aside, and nothing short of demonstrating my awesome power will get me back in the loop.

"Can you at least give us an idea, of who else might be involved?" Ed asked, going right where Tim didn't want to. "You know, we have been more than cooperative with you. I can't tell you how far our necks are stretched on this thing. We've got to have something to take back. I hope you understand that?"

"You have the bird, that should explain a lot," Tim said.

"It flew away," Randy said quietly.

"Whaaaat?" Tim laughed hard. "I'll bet somebody's ass got fried for that, huh?"

"I would imagine. It was supposedly shut down, but it got up, blew out a brick wall, and flew away," Randy confessed.

"Now dammit Tim, we have been patient. What the hell is in there, we have to know?" Ed shouted.

"I can't tell you exactly, but I can tell you this. What's in there, is dangerous to all of us if we don't continue with caution, and that means no stupid acts by your government. For your own good, don't allow anymore crazy shit like that episode back there. You can see how far that got you."

"We had nothing to do with that," Ed stated.

"It makes no difference if you planned it, executed it, or were not a part of it. It happened, and you guys should be thankful it was me. I'm the nice guy in this deal. The other guy is not going to be so gracious."

"Is Arty the other guy?" Randy asked quickly.

"I can't say." Way to go, dumb ass. Mentioning someone else was brilliant.

"Look Tim, by law you must tell us," Ed demanded. "By law, all that is on our soil belongs to us. That's where were coming from. You've got to understand that. Until you can show us some reason this structure, or whatever it may be, is not part of the U.S., there are going to be attempts to secure it. Threats will do no good."

"Ah, you think you have a legal claim to what's in there?" Tim declared. Ah hah, I think I see a way around all this.

"The law is the law," Ed stated.

"What if I can show you that what's in there, is, what would you call it? Ah, someplace that you couldn't legally claim?" Tim questioned.

"A Sovereign State," Ed replied.

"Yeah that's it! I declare, it is a Sovereign State."

"That's impossible!" Randy shouted.

"Hey, I can back up my claims, as you have seen."

"There are many things that constitute sovereignty; for one: a banking system, you have to have an economy, second, it helps to have an armed force to back that economy, and third, there has to be some sort of governing body."

"Ah ha, tell you what!" Tim exclaimed emphatically. "You want to play hard ball? I'll buy you guys out, how about that?"

"Oh come on, Tim get serious," Randy laughed.

"No, no, I am serious. I'm going to enlist the golden rule. You know what that is?"

"Yeah, he who has the gold makes the rules," Randy chuckled.

"That's right, and I can do that, trust me, and as you have already seen, I can back up my claims, with force, if necessary!" Tim exclaimed.

"One guy doesn't comprise a fighting force," Randy argued.

"You already experienced the air power at my disposal," Tim bragged.

"Then you know more about the F-16 that went down than you're telling us," Randy said quickly.

"Yeah, but I did not shoot down the F-16. I was there, but I did not shoot it down."

"You were in the little black plane?" Randy asked.

"No, there were two planes, I was in the second."

"There was a report of only one," Ed said.

"All your pilots saw was one. I was above in a second plane. Your radar didn't pick them up, in case you didn't notice."

"We noticed. Who was flying the plane you were in?" Randy asked.

"I was," Tim bragged.

"Ah huh, and you, uh, you want us to believe that you're a fighter pilot?" Randy said with a chuckle.

"I was in a second plane, identical to the first, and I was flying it." Tim looked directly at Randy and said nothing more.

"We don't have any real confirmation on this report, but a patrol stated, and I quote, ah let me see here," Ed reached into his case and drew out a piece of paper. "Ah here it is, quote, 'A small vehicle with no wheels, flying, yeah flying, went down through the wash we were headed to. It had a rider in a light brown uniform. It was traveling at such a rate of speed that it was out of our view in a matter of no more than half a minute. It didn't make any noise,' end of quote. Has this got anything to do with you?" Ed asked.

"It was me, and it's called a Sky-bike."

"Well, that clears that one up. Now back to this sovereignty claim. What would you base this on?" Ed asked.

"Time. My place has been here longer than the U.S. So as I see it, your country is infringing on mine."

"When you say longer, what exactly are you talking about?" Ed continued.

"Thirteen million, give or take a few."

"Years? This place has been here that long?" Randy asked short of breath. "Are you serious?"

"That's a true story guys."

"Do you have any proof of this?" Ed asked astonished also.

"I can get it, and I'll give you absolute proof of its value, also. And you have witnessed its military might. Interested?"

"Yes, yes very much, and it would give us something to take back," Ed said.

"Do you believe me about how dangerous this could be?" Tim asked.

"We do Tim, we do," Ed agreed.

"Gentlemen, will you please walk outside. I'll be back shortly. Don't attempt to follow," Tim warned.

"We can't just let you go!" Randy returned excitedly.

"I'll come right back, I promise. Besides, I can just go anytime I want, and you can't stop me, remember?"

"Oh yeah, but we had to protest, just for the record," Ed confessed. "Don't take too long, please."

Ed and Randy got up from where they had been sitting and headed out of the crack. Just before they got completely out, Ed turned. "Hey Tim, just one question?"

Tim had activated the force field and was standing in the soft blue light. "I might be able to answer one, try me?"

"Where did all this come from?" Ed questioned.

"From the stars," Tim answered, backing into the light and disappearing. The light shimmered, and was suddenly solid rock again.

Ed walked over to the other side of the pool and sat down, resting his back against the rock there.

Randy went back to the rock where Tim had gone through, reached out and tested it to see if it was really solid. Satisfied that it was, he came back out, then began pacing back and forth with a cigarette in his mouth.

"This is not doing much for your quitting, I see," Ed scolded.

"Shit, don't be surprised if I end up with a worse habit than this. How can you be so calm? We are sitting here, and we should be in there." Randy pointed and jabbed his fingers at the spot where Tim had disappeared. "Dammit Ed, we've got to get in there."

"I don't think we ever will, to tell you the truth," Ed explained.

"What? You can't be serious. He can't keep us out forever! Shit, Ed, he's only a kid!"

"You were there, you saw what happened. How do you figure anyone's going to be able to force him to do anything? Can you answer that?"

"There's got to be someone else in there, maybe we can deal with them?" Randy said.

"Maybe, but it seems to me that Tim doesn't want that to happen. Remember, he keeps warning us we should be happy to deal with him and him only. Maybe he's on the up and up?"

"Maybe he's not. He could just be trying to act like a big shot. He is still a kid, for christ sakes," Randy stated.

"I can't see it really. He's awfully mature about the whole thing. He was truly sorry about zapping the Major and the other soldier. I could see it in his face. If he was trying to prove something, he would be pushing his weight around a lot more. I think he wants us to leave this thing alone, and I think it's for our own good."

"I don't know, maybe? But how the hell are we going to explain this?" Randy asked with a worried tone. "We're supposed to be getting answers," Randy continued, "and all that's happening, is we're getting pushed around by a goddamn kid! There are going to be a lot of questions, and I don't have any answers."

"Oh, blame it all on me. I'm advising you to be prudent, and I outrank you. You have to listen to me, and they all know it," Ed said, trying to comforted Randy.

"What about you, aren't you expecting any heat about this?"

"Oh hell, they'll try to crucify me, as usual, but it's my job to do what I think is correct, and I'm going to do my job properly. I think we have to deal with the kid. If that changes, then we change."

"What about the military, aren't they going to want to push the issue a little?" Randy asked.

"Oh, of course, but all they will accomplish is getting a few of their men zapped. I'd like to see that Miser get a jolt right up his ass." Ed laughed first, but Randy appreciated the thought and joined him.

"I wonder what he's going to give us?" Randy said. "I hope it's good, otherwise Maclusky is going to have my ass."

"I hope Tim can substantiate that claim of sovereignty," Ed said.

"You can't possibly think anyone would consider honoring something like that?"

"Certainly, if his claim is valid? We still have the law to consider. Besides, it will give us some time. Randy, we have got to keep the lid on this thing. It is our job to see that this doesn't explode in our faces. We get the big money to ensure the safety of this country, don't forget that."

"I remember our job description, but I'm just wondering if it's insuring our safety to do nothing?"

"In your summation, would you advise an action against Tim, considering what he has told you so far, considering what you have seen so far?"

"I don't see what you're getting at?" Randy question.

"We are talking about possibly initiating a war against an enemy far advanced to us. We know nothing about this enemy. Do you think it's wise?"

"I see what you're saying, and I hope Maclusky does too. He's going to want my ass, I just know it."

"Speaking of asses. I want you to get busy on making sure they don't put that good Lieutenant up against the wall. We owe him a lot. And MaClusky is a pussy cat," Ed chuckled.

"Oh yeah? Well, at least when he's done with me, there won't be much left for anyone else to abuse," Randy commented.

"There you go, you're finally getting the hang of this job," Ed laughed.

"He said it came from the stars," Randy said quietly. "You think that's possible?"

"I'd say it's more than likely."

"That would make more sense than a lost underground society," Randy agreed.

"Someone who knows a hell of a lot more than we do is responsible. It's got to be from out there." Ed pointed up to the sky.

"Shit, if we suggest anything like that, no one will take us serious."

"That's why we just play dumb when the topic comes up, unless Tim can prove it."

"Good thinking Mr. Adams."

*

The two men engaged in assorted small talk for another ten minutes. They watched with interest as the military stayed above them in plain sight. The Lieutenant was doing his new job well. Ed knew he had better come up with a damn good reason to keep them from exercising their option, which would be to use force to gain entry into the mountain. He was certain, Tim was not kidding about the futility of an assault. He was confused on one point though; he had seen Tim deal with force, and was confident Tim would use restraint. Tim was so over matched, when it came to the Army, he could probably just stun them all, and that would be that. Why was he so insistent that there was real danger? Ed had gone over the whole thing while he sat there in the pool and he came to a conclusion. He would back Tim to the hilt. Even though he didn't know why, he trusted the kid. He was hoping beyond reason, Tim could supply him with something that would give him some leverage to gain some time. He watched the Lieutenant standing up on the rim and knew the man's very life depended on Tim coming through.

*

Ed and Randy were still sitting in the dry pool when Tim came back out of Timtown. "Hey you guys, I'm baacck," he announced.

Ed and Randy jumped to their feet and headed into the crack.

"See, I told you he'd come back," Ed said over his shoulder. "What have you got for us Son?"

"Well, for one, my request of sovereignty is valid," Tim stated.

"What makes you think that?" Randy questioned.

"I checked. According to international and the laws of this land, if I can prove we existed, meaning that place in there," Tim motioned over his shoulder, "and had a governing body before the creation of your government, we indeed do have a valid claim."

"That can't be legit!" Randy exclaimed.

"It is, according to your laws," Tim reaffirmed.

"And, how do you know anything about law, pertaining to something as complicated as this?" Randy squawked.

"I asked."

"Who did you ask?" Ed questioned.

"There's a computer in there," Tim pointed behind himself, "that's many-million years old. He defines himself as Stage-Eight. The computers you guys play with, are at best, Stage-Three. That's the big stuff to you, the ones that do trillions of computations per second." Tim was using a smug tone. "My lawyer says sue! Your move!"

"That's pretty vague," Ed said.

"I have a detailed brief." Tim handed Ed a stack of papers. "Have your lawyers go over it. Now, for the other stuff." Tim reached down and picked up a case with a handle, but no latches or seams to indicate it would open. Ed was fondling the papers, turning them over and looking at them with interest.

"First Mr. Adams, could you assist me in preparing this carrying case so you can have access to its contents?"

"What do you want me to do?" Ed asked. He had handed the papers to Randy who started leafing through them. After the first couple, Randy let out a small whistle.

"We need to program the case to respond to your requests, and only yours. I can't begin to tell you of the value of its contents. You will have to determine that for yourself, later. Let's see, 'please open', would be appropriate. Could you say that to the case?" Tim said as he put the case in front of Ed.

Ed shrugged his shoulders and said, "Please open."

Tim was holding the case in his hands with the flat side up. The top of the case began to shimmer and in seconds was transparent. Ed and Randy both let out a small gasp. Inside was a bar of what looked like a shiny, white metal, and what looked like a big diamond, along with a smaller one, a standard flash drive, and a small petri dish with a chunk of what looked like flesh with skin.

"What kind of paper is this?" Randy asked.

"It's not paper. It's a type of energy film that is damage proof. The typing is laser etched and equally as durable. Now, I want you guys to know, only Ed can open this case, and only Ed can retrieve anything from inside. Randy, try to pick up the platinum."

"Platinum!" Randy exclaimed, but hesitated about sticking his hand into the open case.

"Nothing will happen, go ahead," Tim said.

Randy stepped up to Tim and put his hand out like he was going to pick up the bar, but when his hand stopped short, he looked at Tim with a puzzled look on his face. He pulled his hand back and tried again. "I can't get my hand in there, what's stopping it?"

"The force field. Ed is the only one that can take anything out of that case. Some security huh? And be advised, nothing will get through. Anyone who tries will get nothing but frustrated," Tim commented proudly. "I programmed it that way."

"What if someone has a recording of his voice?" Randy asked.

"Wouldn't do any good! The case can spot that, besides it needs to recognize his DNA also. No way to duplicate that, period."

"You did say platinum?" Ed asked.

"Yup, one hundred percent pure." Tim bragged.

"That's not possible!" Randy exclaimed.

"One hundred percent," Tim repeated.

"It is not possible!" Randy repeated, sure of himself.

"That is for you and your boys to analyze. Check out the diamonds, also. If you have any doubt about my buy-out offer, I can inform you that I can pay with unlimited amounts of either of these items. You will really like the video, and you'll especially love the dinosaurs. It'll prove beyond a doubt that Timtown has been here considerably longer than the U.S."

"Timtown?" Ed jumped all over Tim's slip up.

"Oh, that's something Ann came up with; the official name is 'Whuc Seaacki'." Great, dumb ass, another screw up. I hope Ed isn't as sharp as I think he is.

"How do you want me to go about this?" Ed asked.

Apparently Tim had dodged the bullet and he didn't say anything immediately. He just looked at Ed for a moment and then spoke. "You're asking me? I don't know anything about diplomacy, is that the correct word?"

"It's the right word, and that's why I'm asking. You're the one that's changing the rules," said Ed.

"I don't—" Tim stopped for a moment. "I guess this request is out of the ordinary, huh? I just want to do the right thing. As far as I see it, according to my lawyer, the many-million year old one, I am right. And, if the fact that I have a lot more money, and a hell of a lot more punch than you guys, doesn't swing it my way, I don't know? I can control this thing if you promise to stay away, if not, who knows? You might have to deal with someone a lot tougher than me."

"If it doesn't work out, will you retaliate?" asked Randy.

"Not me."

"Then who, who is the other guy? Is it Arty?" Ed pushed.

"I can't say, right now."

"You're still giving the impression you're in charge," Randy commented. "The people we need to persuade will want to know that for sure, but you say that someone, besides you, is the one that we have to worry about. What is it Tim? We need to straighten this out; we need to negotiate with whoever is in charge. If it is you, then fine, we're on our way. If it's someone else, then we're wasting our time here."

"I see your point, but it's a struggle for power at this time," Tim tried to explain.

"And any interference by outside parties will have a probable influence on the outcome, is that what you're saying?" Ed asked.

"That's correct. You do understand, and it happens all the time, right?" Tim answered.

"Yes it does, but to even consider any of your requests we have to establish your position in this organization. Do you represent the majority? Are you an elected official, or a dictator? My government will not recognize any of these other things until that is established!" Ed reiterated.

"I'm the representative," Tim answered matter of factually.

"That's not good enough Son. What if we make a decision, and then another party surfaces and claims that he or she is the real representative? Then what? We can only deal with the person in charge. Are you that person?"

"Yes!" Tim stated.

"At this time?" Ed asked.

"Yes, at this time," Tim said. "I will continue to be the representative as long as I can insure the best interests of Whuc Seaacki. If I fail, I get fired."

"What role does Arty play at this point?" asked Randy.

"I can't say, at this point," Tim returned.

"Can't say, or won't say!" Ed challenged Tim.

"If Arty was in charge, you'd be talking to him instead of me, right?" Tim said firmly with conviction.

"That is good enough for me," Ed agreed. "At this point!" he added.

"Look you guys, all this is a waste of time. Please take the things I've given you and do what you can, but I advise; get the fuckin Army out of here, okay! I'm going now." Tim turned and activated the force field.

"We have to say no," Randy said. "Just for the record."

Tim didn't respond as he walked into the blue haze, leaving the two men standing there.

"Oh shit, what the hell do we do now?" Randy asked.

"Oh settle down, at least we've got something to occupy everybody's time, for a little while. I can hardly wait to see the video. Dinosaurs!" Ed exclaimed.

"And we've got the girl," Randy added.

"That's exactly what I want you to do right now," Ed instructed.

"What? Interrogate her? She doesn't know much, I don't think?"

"No, you moron, you heard the kid. I want you to make sure no one asks her anything."

"Ed, you can't be serious? They're not going to just let her sit, and not try to get anything out of her. She might be the only chance to find out anything about that place in there."

"Randy, think. If anything happens to her, if anyone even attempts to question her, we might lose the only chance we had. You heard what the kid said. The President and I gave our word, and I want that honored."

"Christ, MaClusky is going to be pissed."

"If Maclusky gets out of hand, I'll have his ass!" Ed stated.

"Uuuhuuh," grunted Randy, "I still say we should not have let him go."

"We could not have stopped him, remember?" Ed said as he walked out into the pool.

Chapter 21

General Miser

Ed and Randy returned to the command post, riding in the chopper with the Lieutenant They were met on the helo pad by General Miser, Major Warren, and a large contingency of MPs.

"I guess you know that you are under arrest," The Major said to the Lieutenant as he ordered the MPs to handcuff the Lieutenant

"Hold on gentlemen, the Lieutenant was acting on my behalf, and General Miser here knows my position," Ed said.

"Where is the kid?" the General asked angrily.

"He's gone," Ed replied.

"You let him go, just let him walk away?" General Miser shouted. "Where did he go?"

"It is none of your concern," Ed stated, "and until you hear otherwise, from me or the White house, you stay the hell out of that canyon. Do you read me General?"

The General said nothing.

"General, you do as I say. Do you understand?" Ed continued. "And, I want that man released to me." Ed pointed to the Lieutenant "Do you understand?" The young Lieutenant had a truly relieved look on his face as he headed for Ed's side, and the MPs backed off.

"Yeah, yeah, you goddamn pussyfied bureaucrats. As usual, your indecision is going to cost us dearly in the end. We'll have to go in and clean up your mess," Miser said fuming.

"That's what you get paid for General. You can sit up on the hill and rattle your sabers, if you like, but take no action. Remember what I said about Guam," Ed said over his shoulder as he walked toward the communication center.

"That girl knows more than she's letting on to!" General miser shouted. "I could have busted this thing wide open. I should have refused to give her to you, or anyone," the General added with his face red and his chest puffed out. "We might just get her back," he shouted again.

Ed stopped in his tracks and spun around. "General, the girl was released to the President. Would you be thinking about disobeying a direct order from your Commander-in-Chief, General?"

The General was obviously really mad, but said nothing.

"Good, because if you were, I'd have you arrested right here and now. You got that?" Ed shouted at him.

The General mumbled quietly, as Ed and Randy walked into the tent.

"Guam is real pleasant this time of the year," Ed shouted over his shoulder, just before he shut the door.

*

"You get to that girl, now!" Ed said to Randy. "And you stay with her, no matter what. I've got to get custody of that Lieutenant real quick."

Ed put through a call to the White House, and within minutes General Miser got his call.

"That little pip squeak ordered me to turn her over!" General Miser shouted into the phone. He paused for a moment and then continued. "I can't go against a direct order. God-damn-it, the fuckin President gave it!" He stopped and listened.

"I don't know where they took her? I can't follow Air Force One." The General listened again.

"Yes, God-damn-it, they picked her up, and took her away on the plane." He listened again.

"Yes, they were waiting for us," the General continued, and then he listened some more.

"How come your end doesn't keep more informed? Oh, a direct order huh," the General said sarcastically, "and from the President. Imagine that. Geez, I thought you guys didn't take orders from anyone." Miser listened again.

"Hey, you want her, you get her," the General spat. "Right now, I'm trying to figure out how to bust into that base." He listened again.

"Hey, I don't give a fuck! I'm going in there," he yelled as he slammed the phone down.

*

The following morning General Miser was busy meeting helicopters as they arrived at Fox Base, his command post. Each of the helos carried only one person besides the crew. The General met each one of them, and then ushered them into the large tent that had been erected the night before. Around noon, all the people were assembled, and then the General spoke.

"All right you guys, I want a detailed plan of attack by morning. I have talked to the right people on this thing, and I can get what you need. We are going into that place, and no one is going to stop us," the General said as he surveyed the large team he had assembled for his endeavor. He had also planned his support well. He was now working for some determined men that would stop at nothing to gain entry into the mountain. These determined men also had access to most of the U. S. arsenal.

He left the group, returned to his private tent and made a call on his private phone.

"It's on. Do I have the okay on the schedule?" he said into the phone.

"Okay, good enough," he responded to the other end. "I hope you can keep up your end of this deal."

"Hey, I'm not stopping for anybody."

"Hey Sam, I don't give a shit," the General continued, emphasizing every statement. "I'm not giving this country away to no one. I'm going in there. If I have to, I will blow the whole Goddamn thing, I swear!"

Chapter 22

The Military

Tim was sitting in the bean bag chair in his apartment, watching video records of early Mediterranean Sea Voyagers. The mechanical birds Mr. V had been sending out had photographed virtually everything of the Earth's history since the Sooaunts left. Before that, the Sooaunts themselves had kept records. That's where the duplicate T. Rex had come from. Tim was watching an ancient Phoenician, single, square masted ship hugging the Grecian coast with a load of olive oil, wines, and copper ingots. It was traveling to Cyprus in the year 3632. B. C.

A single mechanical gull would stay with a particular ship continually so there was an exact record of the ship: its construction, its cargos, its crews, its voyages, destinations, and its end.

"There is much activity on the outside." Et informed Tim.

"Right outside?" Tim asked.

"No, many helicopters have landed at the edge of the city down below. There are many troops and they appear to be getting ready to come up this mountain."

"Ah shit, this is what I've been worried about. Transport me to where ever Arty is, now!" Tim commanded.

*

Tim materialized in a tunnel heading toward the main control room and he saw Arty headed straight at him. His appearing in the tunnel caught Arty by surprise, and his brother pulled up short. Tim stood there, blocking the tunnel.

"I suppose you think I'm impressed by that?" Arty said monotone.

"I didn't come here to impress you. I'm sure you are aware of the company we're going to get?"

"I am aware of the fact. Do not concern yourself with it though, I can handle it. You can return to your 'Secret Place'."

"Oh no, this thing is not going to get out of control," Tim said, as Arty squeeze by him and continued toward the control chamber.

Tim hurried down the tunnel at a jog, but Arty raced away from him at a high rate of speed.

Boy, if I ever need to get away from Arty, I had better come up with some way to move much faster than I can now.

*

Tim entered the control room and saw Coyle was there talking to Arty.

After Jake failed to return, Arty had immediately enlisted the help of Coyle. Coyle had taken over from Jake and had some peculiar similarities. He had never been a pilot, but he had an almost identical personality, as Margie had commented to Tim. Although she had not gotten to know the man well, before they entered the base, he was different now. Tim remembered that Coyle had been repaired by Mr. V, also, and he wondered if there was any connection.

"What are they doing?" Tim asked Coyle.

Coyle turned around. "Oh, hey Tim, how are you? He remained friendly to Tim, even though he had become Arty's new partner.

"We've got many soldiers coming up the slopes and they have landed a considerable force behind us also," Coyle said.

"All headed right here, correct?" Tim said.

"Yes, on a beeline," Coyle confirmed.

"Well, Arty, Dear Brother, what the hell do you propose?" Tim asked as he turned to Arty.

"They should not be here," he responded, without facing Tim. "I did not ask them to come here. You know, it is all your fault. You and that silly Ann, letting yourself get caught like that. If it had not been for you two, they would have never known we were here."

"Oh, can it," Tim laughed, "I know about the hawk."

"What are you talking about?" Arty said as he spun around and looked directly at Tim.

"The mechanical hawk at the air base, Arty. You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"I do not understand," Coyle questioned.

"Never mind, it is not important," Arty said.

"No, not anymore it sure isn't," Tim added.

"The first group of soldiers will be at the bottom of the canyon in half an hour, and there are more helicopters coming in," Coyle added.

"Arty, remember, these are just simple guys doing a job. They can't hurt us, so don't you hurt them," Tim said sternly.

"I want them off this mountain, they must leave," Arty demanded.

"You brought them here so you could tell them to go. That's it, isn't it? You're going to show them," Tim said. "It's all a set up."

"Stay out of this, I am warning you," Arty's voice was really menacing.

"Arty, my gosh, I think Tim is just concern—" Coyle started to say.

"Please tend to your business, and stay out of mine," Arty interrupted Coyle loudly.

"But Arty, your brother is just—"

Coyle didn't say anything more. His face went blank for a moment, then he began to slump forward, unconscious.

Tim went over to Coyle and pulled his head back. "Mr. V is this man okay?"

"He's fine, he is just out for the time being," Arty jumped in.

"I didn't ask you," Tim said to Arty. "Mr. V," Tim called again.

"He will not answer you," Arty said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tim asked angrily.

"Mr. V only talks to me now, sorry," Arty was definitely pleased.

"Yeah I'll bet," Tim returned.

"Go to your 'secret place' little boy, before I stomp on you like a bug," Arty snarled as he turned away to a hologram.

Tim just stared exasperated at Arty. I have no idea what I could possibly say to this. . .'thing' that would make any difference.

With his back still to Tim, Arty added. "I said to leave this place because you have no power here anymore, and it is dangerous for you to stay." Arty's voice had taken on a menacing, mechanical tone

"You're fuckin insane man, do you know that? Do you know what you're doing?" Tim yelled at Arty, loosing his temper.

Arty still didn't face Tim as he spoke, but his tone was less threatening. "The only reason I allow you to stay here in Whuc Seaacki is you are my brother."

Holly shit, Arty is afraid of me. Loosing my cool seems to have worked to my advantage.

"Bullshit!" Tim continued with the meltdown attitude. "The only reason you allow me to stay is because you can't do anything about me, period!"

Arty didn't respond for a moment. "You are right, but I am working on it," he finally said.

"Well, I'm glad we've cleared the air on that one. One other thing," Tim said, but he hesitated.

"Come on! I do not enjoy talking to you, so spit it out," Arty said with his back still to Tim.

"Ah you're. . .you're not really Arty anymore, correct?"

"That is correct. Arty is dead. He died a long time ago. He loved you, but I do not have any feelings for you."

The statement hit Tim hard. I've known the truth for some time now, but hearing the final proof doesn't make it any easier. My family is really gone. Now I am completely alone. I'm glad Ann is far away from this madness. I'll have to check up on her though, to make sure Ed is keeping his bargain.

"It has come down to you and I, Tim." Arty spoke quietly and respectfully. "I am not going to patronize you anymore because I respect you. You are a resourceful individual, but you are in my way. It would be best for you to leave."

"What about all the rest of the people in here?" Tim asked.

"They will be safe, I mean them no harm," Arty said quietly.

"Like Sims was no problem, or Jake."

"Sims was a mistake. I assumed he was influencing you and I removed him, but I can see now it was the other way around. Jake was killed by the same people you are so concern about now."

"No, it was not a mistake, and you know it. Sims just thought the same as I did, and if anyone else in here objects they will pay the price, like Coyle here. See, he doesn't want to be King of the World either, but when he objected, you silenced him. Jake was just a pawn. I know you've been trying to stir up the rest by saying, 'they' shot Jake down, but I know better. His plane had a device in it that allowed the missiles to home in on it, just like when I was flying it. You planned it dear Brother."

"Coyle will be okay," Arty stated, changing the subject.

"No he won't, he will be annoyed because you are doing something he doesn't agree with, something that goes against his sense of right and wrong, and he will fight you, and you'll hurt him, just like you did Sims. I'm staying, and I'm advising you that I am the Number One," Tim touched the center of his chest quickly, "and you will stop this shit, or get the hell out. You hear me Clank!" Tim had already activated the molecular transporter and was already shimmering as he was finishing his speech.

It was good timing too because Arty spun around, as Tim was dematerializing, and fired a powerful energy beam at Tim's fading figure. It had no apparent effect because Tim reformed back in his quarters unharmed.

"Boy, am I glad we modified the transfer unit because Arty about got my ass back there," Tim sounded excited, but relieved. "Et, do you have any suggestions on what I can do to protect myself better from what just happened."

"We can implement my suggestion, from now on."

"I hate to be so sneaky, but I guess I don't have any choice," Tim agreed. "And you're sure this place is secure?

"Yes, Arty cannot come here, you are safe."

"He's not Arty, he's become something else."

"Is that why Margie calls him Clank? Is that a reference to a machine?"

"Yeah," Tim said sadly.

"You don't sound happy with the situation," added Et.

"I just hate the idea of having to encounter Arty, excuse me Clank over and over."

"It is possible for you as Number One, to return to the rest of base unannounced."

"I know that, but as soon as ArtClank knows I'm there, he'll come hauling ass, firing on the run."

"If you don't want him to know you're there, that can be done."

"No, no, I have to be visible to protect those people, and he has to know I'm watching so he won't hurt them, understand?"

"I see your problem, but I don't have a solution," Et confessed.

"Well, we need to work on that because I need to protect my friends. I'm sure they think I've abandoned them already."

"They are worried about you," Et said.

"Where are most of them?"

"They are all in the living quarters."

"And Clank?"

"In the manufacturing center."

*

Tim returned to the Timtown living quarters. As he materialized he spotted Margie.

"Where have you been?" she sounded angry as she ran up to him, punched him solidly in the shoulder and then hugged him hard. "I have been asking about you and getting nothing. Do you know what's been happening?"

"Yeah, I'm up on all the gossip. How's everyone doing down here?"

"Pretty good, considering," Margie answered.

"Considering what?"

"Well, we're getting a little sick of being confined to just the living area."

"When did this come about?" Tim asked, feeling a little guilty about his friends being confined.

"Two days ago. We were told that you and Ann went outside and disappeared. I'm glad you're back. Where's Ann?" Margie asked in one breath.

"Yeah, I'm back, and Ann is fine."

"She went back to the forest?" Margie questioned.

"No, Ann didn't come back, but she's okay. She's far away and safe."

"Didn't come back, oh?" Margie was quiet for a moment. "I think I'd like to go too," she continued. "I'm getting some bad feelings, really bad feelings. Everyone else is getting nervous too, they want to see the outside."

"Is everyone here?"

"Yeah, except Coyle. He's the only one that's allowed to leave, and we barely see him anymore. What's up?"

"You're going to have to stay here a little while longer, that's all I can tell you."

"You and Arty had it out huh?"

"Yeah, so just keep everyone here while I get everything straightened out." I hate being so uninformative, because they have a right to know, but it's best that it's not discussed because Clank can eavesdrop. It hurts me to think of Arty as Clank, but I have to accept the fact, it is not Arty. Arty is gone.

The help I envisioned for Arty has gone woefully wrong, and I can't get over the feeling it is my fault. Then again, I had to try. If I had left Arty in the hospital, he would probably be dead by now. So how to keep this new monster at bay is my problem now.

*

Tim hurried toward the outside exit because he needed to turn the soldiers around. Et informed him that two large helicopters had landed at the top of the Walls and were unloading equipment. The computer described one of the pieces and it was, no doubt, a drilling apparatus.

Oh man, I hope Ann is okay. It looks like Ed has either failed, or is a part of this.

As Tim neared the exit, Et informed him two more large helicopters were arriving, and one was carrying a small, but extremely powerful thermal-nuclear-device.

Arty, shit, Clank, is going to get what he wanted because the mechanical demon is counting on the very thing that is happening.

Tim could remember how Arty was before he went off to war. He was going to go kick some ass and nothing bad was going to happen to him. He had been positive about that, Tim remembered clearly.

I need to talk to Ed to find out what went wrong, but I have no way to make contact. I doubt any of the soldiers will help. Again, I didn't plan for the unseen and it is going to haunt me. I know I'm going to run right into that nasty Major and the big shot General before I can get to talk to Ed. Then what am I going to do?

He was at the exit and about to go out, but he hesitated. It wouldn't do me any good to just confront the soldiers because I'll just end up shooting it out with them and that will get me nowhere.

*

He transported himself back to his quarters to talk to the computer. "Et, how can I talk to those people out there, and if it's not going my way, get the hell away, fast?"

"Why would you be worried, they can't possibly hurt you?"

"I know, but I don't want to start anything. They're going to try to keep me there if I go out to talk to them. I've gone through all that shit already. Can you transport me outside the base, and then bring me back?"

"No."

"How come?"

"To transport you; your molecules are dissimulated in the original spot, then transported, then reassembled at the intended destination. I have no way of transporting your dissimulated molecules to the outside because I have no ability to reassemble them outside of the Facility."

"Well, there goes my next question."

"And that was?"

"I need some way to deal with these clowns without having to just walk up to them and then having to walk away, if and when the shit starts."

"You could make yourself invisible."

"What? Is that possible?" Tim asked excitedly "I mean how can something that's solid be made so it's not there?"

"Oh, it is quite simple, really."

"How, how can you make me invisible? How would that work?"

"You are visible because light reflects off you, and eyes see that reflected light. You do understand that?"

"Yeah."

"So it is quite simple to capture that light, and you cannot be seen. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, but wouldn't it appear something was still there, I mean if you capture the light wouldn't there be a hole or something?"

"Yes, there would be. Very intuitive of you. The light that strikes you is absorbed, is recorded, then duplicated, and sent on its way."

"That sounds reasonable. Just takes a lot of information huh?"

"Exactly, it takes a large amount of information."

"All right! What do I need to do? Ah, how do I work it? Can I just disappear when I want to, or is it permanent? Explain?" Tim was excited about this new possibility.

"I told you it is simple. I need to add the program to your protection field, and you can become invisible anytime you want."

"And when can I appear again, or is that possible?"

"Anytime you want. You simply turn it on, and turn it off. The energy field that surrounds you will be programmed to perform that function."

"At a moment's notice then?" Tim asked.

"Less than that. It will take approximately, eighteen-one-thousands of a second for the field to implement the program. In your terms, you will disappear in a flash."

"And this will work outside the Facility?"

"It is part of the field's function so it goes where you go."

"They have an atom bomb out there; can I take some of the force field and cover it up?"

"To do what? And incidentally, it is not an atomic bomb, it is a hydrogen bomb."

"Big deal, if it goes off it's going to blow the shit out of this place, yes or no?"

"No, it is not possible."

"Whuc Seaacki is that strong? It will withstand a nuke?"

"The nuke, as you describe it, will not detonate."

"You sound confident, how can you guarantee that?"

"I have already disabled the device."

"How?"

"The device has electronic triggering circuits, and I have severed those, so it will not detonate."

"I thought that you couldn't do anything outside this facility?"

"I never said that."

"But Mr. V was always saying that he had no influence out there."

"That was Mr. V, I am Et."

"I thought you two were one and the same, except for the secret part."

"We are, but the secret thing entails a lot more than just confidentiality for you."

"You can control things, ah you can do stuff outside?"

"Yes."

"Oh wow, there is my answer. Wait a minute though, if you can operate outside, then you would be able to influence the environment. I thought you weren't supposed to do that."

"The central computer cannot for that reason, but I can. I am programmed to launch and retrieve vessels. To disable the thermonuclear devise is in my program."

"Vessels, as in space ships?" Tim asked, holding his breath.

"Yes."

"Mr. V has nothing to do with them, then?"

"No, it is not in his program. That is why when you asked him about space ships he was unable to answer."

"But he told me he would tell me later so it sounded like he knew about them, but just didn't want to say anything then."

"He had given you the designation of Number One and he knew that the subject was my program. He just meant, when you came here I would help you on that subject, understand?"

"Yeah! Do you have any space ships?" Tim asked excitedly.

"Yes, a short range vehicle called a Jump Ship, and a Deep Space Probe."

"Whoooaa!" Tim cried out, thrilled. "Tell me about them!"

"The Deep Space Probe is a long range research and exploration ship."

"What's long range, how far can it go?" Tim asked, still breathless.

"Unlimited range, I guess would explain it the best."

"How fast can it go?"

"The Probe will attain a top speed of many times the speed of light," the computer said.

"Warp speed, that's possible?"

"Ah, Star Trek. Yes, the speed of light is not a barrier."

"What about the other one, the Jump Ship, you called it?"

"Yes, that vessel is an interplanetary vehicle. It cannot attain the great speeds necessary to travel between the star systems."

"How fast can that one go?"

"It will attain a speed of at least ten or so millions of your miles per hour."

"Just out of curiosity, what did the Sooaunts travel in to go from here to their planet?"

"Galactic Transports is what they called them, cargo vessels. There are none here though. They were similar to the Probe in performance, but much, much larger."

"The interplanetary one, the Jump Ship, tell me about it."

"What do you want to know?"

"How many people will it carry?"

"Up to ten, with cargo and personal supplies."

"What did the Sooaunts use to get out of the base and travel around in, I mean short stuff? Ah, you know, if they were going from here to someplace on this planet?"

"It depends on how many were going? If more than one, they would use the Jump Ships."

"And if there was only one?" Tim asked, holding his breath.

"They would use a Pod."

"What's that like?"

"Short range, mostly for inner atmospheric travel."

"How fast will that one go?"

"It depends where you are traveling."

"If it was down close to the ground?"

"What altitude?"

"You're not supposed to answer a question with a question, it's rude."

"I'm sorry, but I have to know the specifics, if I am to give you correct answers. Which one would you like to know about first?"

"The Pod."

"It is a single seater, as you would say. It is primarily used for travel within the atmosphere, but it can attain orbit, and then reenter. At sea level it will cruise at about ten to twelve-thousand miles per hour, and for short distances it will reach almost fifteen-thousand. As it goes higher its speed of course increases. It will accelerate to the necessary seventeen-thousand miles per hour to reach orbital speed. Incidentally, the probe will descend to a depth of six thousand feet under water."

"Geez, I wish there was one of those here."

"Your wish has been answered; there are two in the Facility."

"Whooooaa, I thought you said there was only the Deep Probe deal, and the Jump one."

"You asked if there were any 'space ships', the pod vehicle is not considered a space ship."

"This I've got to see." Tim thought for a moment. "How hard is it to fly?"

"It is not real difficult, although the control systems are quite different from the planes Clank constructed, but I could always be there to assist."

"Where are they?" Tim asked excitedly.

"In the space port."

"Where's that?" Tim's excitement was still peaked.

"That is where you flew the TT Fighter from."

"I didn't see any space ships there."

"They are stored just above the port. I can show you the location," Et said.

"Can you transport me there?"

"Of course, do you want to go now?"

"Yes! Ah, does Arty know anything at all about these ships?"

"No, but he has asked, but of course Mr. V has no knowledge of the ships."

"What if he figures it out and finds them?"

"I do not think that is possible. He is under the opinion; they are located in a separate location, if there are any left behind at all."

"What if he just happens to stumble into the place?"

"That is not possible. The chambers that store the vehicles are not recorded in the central computer's memory. Also the codes necessary to activate the fields that seal the chambers are also not in the central computer. Where the ships are sitting is nothing but a rock wall to Arty, ah Clank."

"I want to go there now, please," Tim commanded.

*

The apartment dissolved in front of his eyes and in seconds Tim materialized in complete darkness.

"Et," he called out.

"This is the place you asked for, is there any problem?" the computer answered.

"It won't do me any good to go stumbling around in the dark, I need some light."

"Oh excuse me, it has been so long since anyone has been in here," the computer said as the chamber began to lighten.

In a moment Tim was able to see enough to get his bearings. He was standing in another one of the chambers that made up Whuc Seaacki, but there were some unusual objects in this one. His heart was pounding as he stared at the one just in front of him. It wasn't the disk shape, or the exotic materials it must contain, but the fact that this ship had traveled away from the Earth that excited him the most.

It was shaped like two saucers put together, with a diameter of at least forty feet and a depth of ten feet. It was a dull metal color, and stood three feet above the floor of the chamber on three stout legs with pads on the bottoms.

"Which one is this, the Jump Ship?" He walked quickly toward the machine.

"Yes."

"Oh wow!" Tim was stunned. "This thing will go from planet to planet, right?"

"Yes."

"It could go to Mars, right now?"

"Yes."

"And come back? How long?" He reached out and ran his hand over the smooth surface, totally mesmerized. "Has this machine been there, I mean Mars?"

"Yes, a few times," answered Et. "It would take about four hours and forty minutes, to leave Whuc Seaacki, and to establish an orbit around the planet you refer to as Mars."

"An orbit, what about landing?"

"It would do you no good to land, there is nothing that would interest you there, and the atmosphere would be toxic to you."

"What about a space suit?"

"What is that?"

"A suit I could wear so I could go out on the surface"

"I have nothing like that."

"What? How did the Sooaunts explore all the different places, without suits to protect them?"

"I have no idea; it is not in my program."

"What about the one that's long range, the Probe? Where is it?"

"In the next chamber," Et returned.

*

Tim had been excited about the first ship because it represented the possibility that he would be able to go to Mars, or Jupiter, or one of the other planets. Now as he stood looking at the Deep Space Probe, he was so enthralled it was difficult to breath. Here was a machine that had been to the stars. A short time ago, just before the earthquake, he and Ann had been looking up at the stars and fantasizing about going there. Back then it wasn't possible to think seriously about doing it. At the time it was just a silly fantasy, something to occupy the mind. Now he was standing right next to, and touching a vehicle that had done it, and could actually take him. Tim was so captivated and excited he was shaking.

Et explained the machine and how it worked. The Probe was not shaped like he had expected, but as Et explained; the ship traveled in the voids of space and did not require any functional shapes or smooth surfaces. It was bulky, and built in the form of a cross. It was fifty feet across, and the longitudinal arm was over a hundred feet long. The angles and the corners on the craft were not rounded, but square. Tim commented that it, "Looked like two railroad ties strapped across each other."

The Jump ship was powered by a fusion engine and could attain speeds in excess of ten million miles per hour, but the Deep Space Probe was powered by a system the computer described as a gravitational disrupt.

Mr. V had already explained that the space in between the stars and the planets was not a vacuum, like was thought, but was actually filled with a fabric, gravity. The gravity fabric was the reason for the attraction that every object exerted upon every other object.

Now Et explained that the engine of the Deep Space Probe pulled and pushed on this fabric. That's how it was able to accelerate to many, many times the speed of light. The speed the vehicle could attain was not consistent because the pull of large objects was greater than empty space, so there was no way to give a definite number. Et said that in some cases, slinging around black holes for instance, the probe could reach over one thousand times the speed of light.

"I guess that makes sense. How many can it carry?

"It will carry two individuals, and will support them for approximately six thousand years," the computer continued.

"What? That doesn't make any sense, no one can live that long," Tim interrupted. "And what about all the radiation out there."

"The passengers are put into suspended animation, they can live that long," the computer returned. And the vessel is cocooned in an intense magnetic field. It is a beautiful sight, to witness the Probe traveling through the dark reaches of space. It is like a giant ball of Aurora Borealis, all manner of shifting and moving colors.

"How long did it take the Sooaunts to go from their planet, to here?"

"One hundred and eleven years."

"Bummer!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, they would have to spend all that time just to get here, and then all that time to get back? What about their families and friends."

"I think you are probably thinking about the problems pertaining to the long travel times. Am I correct?"

"Well, yeah, wouldn't everyone be dead when you got back."

"The Sooaunts lived considerably longer than humans do here on Earth, at this time. The suspended animation was necessary to eliminate the need for large amounts of supplies, and to take the drudgery out of the trip. Besides, when an individual chooses a field of study, other things are forgotten."

*

Tim was curious about many of the new things Et had just told him, but right now he didn't have time for any detailed explanations.

"What about the Pods, where are they?"

Et directed Tim to an additional chamber that was slightly smaller than the first two. Tucked up into the back of the chamber, were two small black objects shaped like Manta Rays. They were ten feet wide, fifteen feet long, and four and a half feet high, with a wide flat tail

Et explained that there was no need for them to be any bigger, when Tim questioned the small size.

Et said that they were powered by a fusion engine, like the Jump ship. Most important to Tim, it would be possible with a little instruction, for him to pilot one of them. The probe would turn on a dime at any speed," Et commented.

When Et made this comment, Tim was extremely curious. After the flight in the TT Fighter, with its phenomenal performance, Tim wondered how anything could outdo it. Et explained that the Pod and the Jump Ship, with their fusion engines, didn't use control surfaces to disrupt air flow to change their directions. Energy from the engine was vectored in any direction, at command, with this type of propulsion.

Tim wondered about someone being in the ship when it changed directions so quick. He had felt the enormous pressures placed on his body, even with the special suit, when he was driving the TT Fighter.

Et explained that the fusion engine was responsible for changing the direction of the mass of the pilot, along with the ship. Et then tried to explain the way the fusion engine could move anything in the Pod as one, and although the concept was believable to Tim, the exact explanation was beyond him.

He asked the computer if he could go inside one of the craft. He heard a soft pop, a whisper of a hiss, and then a section about four feet square hinged up on the back of one of the ray like machines. Tim walked around to where the opening was and stuck his head inside. It was too dark to see anything, so he asked the computer to start the internal systems to get some light. A soft red light emanated from the inside, and as usual, as in all of Timtown, there was no apparent source.

He could see the position where the pilot sat, and asked if he could go inside.

Et informed him that this pod was the property of the Number One, so Tim pulled himself into the interior of his ship. It took him a few moments to get in, turned around, and then situated in the much too large seat. When he sat back a hologram appeared all around him. It made no sense to Tim, just a series of random dots and colored waves.

"What does all this mean?" Tim asked.

"It is information the Sooaunts could read. Do you understand their language?"

"Of course not."

"Then it should not surprise you that it is unreadable."

"I guess not, but you said it would be possible for me to fly this thing"

"Yes, but there will have to be some modifications. Would you like to start them?" the computer asked.

"What kind of modifications?"

"The seat has to be made smaller, for one."

"What about the language? Can you do anything, so I can understand all this stuff?"

"All the systems have to be reconfigured. It would take time, and there is another problem."

"What's that?"

"I'm afraid I do not have the capabilities to do that. You would need Mr. V to perform all that for you."

"Why?" Tim asked, obviously disappointed.

"You are talking about some structural, and computer changes. All the mechanical shops are under Mr. V's direction.

"Oh damn, now there's a problem."

"Yes, Clank is not going to cooperate with that request."

"Not too likely, and I sure as hell don't want him to know they exist. I'm going to have to fly it the way it is then. How would I understand anything?"

"I can translate to start with, and the Pod will learn your language, quickly, and then there will be no problem."

Tim asked about the fact that there weren't any hand or foot controls, and Et explained that the craft was controlled mentally. The computer guaranteed this was a much better method than manually.

"I know this is going to be perceived as an incredibly stupid question, but how am I supposed to see out of this thing?" Tim asked.

"Not stupid at all, because you need to see to maneuver the craft. It was a good question. The material surrounding the upper part of your body will become transparent when the system is charged."

"Ah, I should have known."

"The transparency is one way, incidentally, unless you want to be seen," the computer explained.

"The persons outside have begun to set up equipment in the canyon," Et continued. "They have a primitive, mechanical drilling apparatus."

"How long will it take to program my protection suit for the invisible gig?"

"The gig—as you describe it—is done!" Et exclaimed. There was pride in his voice.

"Okay, how do I work it?" Tim asked as he prepared to go out and deal with the soldiers.

Chapter 23

The Soldiers

Tim stood at the barrier to the outside world contemplating what his plan would be. First, he had to get in contact with Ed Adams because, regardless of what else happened, he had to find out what Ann's situation was. Ed had guaranteed that she was to be safe, but now he wasn't sure. Tim needed a contact on the outside he could trust, and if it wasn't Ed, then he would have to search for someone else.

There were soldiers stationed right outside the force field at the normal entrance, so Tim was blocked. He couldn't deactivate the barrier with the troops there, they would see what was happening and that would just intensify their resolve.

Again, Tim transported back to his quarters to question the computer as to another way out. As he expected, there were many spots he could use to get to the outside. Tim checked carefully at the one exit he chose, to make sure no one would spot the soft blue light. When he was sure that it was safe, he deactivated the force field and walked through. He walked into sunlight, in a small wash, to the east of the normal entrance.

He decided to just walk up toward the canyon rim until he was spotted.

He didn't have to wait long. A helicopter gun-ship circling high above him, suddenly dipped into a steep dive and dropped rapidly toward him. As the gun-ship roared over him, Tim looked up and waved. The helicopter flew out a few hundred yards, stopped, turned, and then hovered with its sinister nose pointed directly at him.

The helo remained pointed at Tim as he continued to walk up the slope. Within a minute, Tim spotted soldiers coming over the top of the rim in front of him. He waved and headed toward them.

"Stop where you are!" commanded a bullhorn from the troops to the front of him, but Tim continued to walk toward them.

"You there! Stop where you are! That is an order!"

Tim just kept walking.

"Stop, or we will open fire!"

"Fuck you!" Tim shouted back. He was close enough so they could hear him.

"Stop and raise your hands, or we will open fire! This is the last warning!"

Tim figured he was close enough and stopped, but did not comply with the order to raise his hands.

"You get a hold of Ed Adams, we need to talk," Tim called out.

"We have orders to detain you, now down, or else," bellowed the bullhorn, its noise echoing up and down the canyons.

"Detain me; you just threatened to shoot me! Make up your minds!" Tim yelled. "You get Ed Adams, otherwise I'm outta here! You tell whoever is in charge, that!" Tim shouted. He was walking through an assortment of medium sized boulders, and short shrub bushes. As he stood there shouting it out with the bullhorn, he surveyed his immediate surroundings. He wasn't too sure about the armament in the helicopter; whether the protection suit would withstand the big shells was something he didn't care to find out. He was ready to dive down into the rocks and pull the disappearing thing, in an instant, if required.

*

"That's the goddamn kid everyone was telling you about!" a Staff Sergeant yelled as he came running up to the Lieutenant that was on the bullhorn.

"What, John, you sure, the same one from Fox base? That's him. . .are you positive?" The Sergeant had gotten the officer's attention.

"Geez LT, he's standing out there, telling you to shove it. Either he's physco, or he's the kid. I was there and I can guarantee you that is him!"

"Whoops, what the hell should I do?' the Lieutenant asked.

"He's here for a reason, so you'd better find out what he wants," the Sergeant said. "I'm telling you, I'm not shooting at that son-of-a-bitch and I'm not ordering any of my men to either."

"Okay, okay John, I believe you. Conners," the Lieutenant said as he turned to another soldier, "get on the phone, and get me command."

"Damn, he wasn't supposed to be out here. What the hell went wrong?" the Lieutenant exclaimed.

"Lieutenant, this kid operates on his own. He goes where he wants, shows up when he wants. Look at him, he's not even afraid. And, for god sakes, I want to make it clear," the Sergeant shouted out as loud as he could, "don't anyone shoot!" He turned back to the Lieutenant, and said quietly. "If we start anything, he's going to make us wish we hadn't, trust me!"

*

"Look kid, we don't mean you any harm," the Lieutenant turned with the bullhorn, and spoke to Tim again, "but we have our orders. Please, will you raise your hands?"

"I will not!" Tim shouted. "You get in touch with Ed Adams, or get your commanding officer up here, and then we we'll go from there."

It's amazing how much confidence the toys of Timtown are giving me. It's in my voice, and I can tell, the soldiers are backing down.

"Just a minute, Sir, we're working on it. Please remain there," the Lieutenant responded, and his tone of voice had definitely softened.

"Sir, we don't know who this Ed Adams is, but General Miser is on his way. Is that satisfactory?" the Lieutenant asked.

"That's what I asked for," Tim replied.

*

It's a standoff, for the moment, but that's okay because the longer it takes the better. If someone reacts too quickly, that's when I have to show my cards, and I want to save my surprises until the best time.

*

Tim moved over to one of the rocks and sat up against it. He could see the soldiers had relaxed somewhat, also. The gun-ship was still hovering three hundred yards to his left its nose still pointed directly at him.

*

"That little shit is back?" General Miser bellowed as he got the news about Tim being with the soldiers. "Put a cordon around him, cuff him, and he doesn't move, do you understand? Good, I'm on my way!" he shouted into the cellular phone.

"He wants to see who? Like hell! You tell that little bastard he's going to deal with me and only me. No wait, don't tell him anything." The General thought better. He wanted to get Tim face to face, and then he could apply the pressure because he had the cards now. He had been informed, a couple of hours earlier, that the operation to get the girl back would be finalized soon.

*

General Miser was huffing as he finally made his way over the top of the canyon rim.

"Lieutenant!" he yelled, causing the young officer to jump. "Where do you have the prisoner?"

"The prisoner. . .Sir?" the Lieutenant questioned.

"Yes, Lieutenant, the kid, you do have him under custody? Lieutenant, where the fuck is the kid?"

"He's right there Sir." The Lieutenant turned and pointed to Tim, who was still sitting on the rock a couple of hundred feet away.

"Lieutenant, that man is supposed to be under arrest. You get some men out there and apprehend him, immediately," Miser yelled.

"Yes, Sir!" The Lieutenant spun around and started shouting orders. Soldiers began to move toward Tim, who sat on the rock and watched. He waved at the General when the officer looked his way and pointed. He knew it had made Miser mad because he could hear him yelling at everyone.

The soldiers began to make their way toward Tim, being real careful. Evidently, stories of his last encounter with the Army had circulated. He chuckled as the first two came close.

If I yelled boo right now, they'd probably shit in their pants. Tim was laughing to himself.

"Would you come with us, please?" a Corporal that had gotten the closest to Tim asked.

"Yup, let's go," Tim said as he stood up and started toward the canyon.

He had gotten about half way when he heard the General yelling in his direction. "You men there, that man is under arrest, you cuff him this instant!"

"I'm sorry kid, but an order is an order." The Corporal pulled a plastic tie off his belt and moved toward Tim. Just as he was about to grab Tim's arm, Tim fired the stun weapon in his right hand at the soldiers extended hand. Before he had left the Whuc Seaacki he had set the weapon max-low to produce an uncomfortable jolt.

The Corporal yelped and jumped back with a surprised look on his face, holding his hand.

"What's the problem?" General Miser shouted. "You cuff that man, now soldier, or you're in a world of shit."

"He gave me a hell of a shock Sir!" the Corporal yelled back.

"I don't care if he gave you a kiss, you get those goddamn cuffs on him, right now," Miser screamed.

"Yes, Sir!" The Corporal looked at Tim with a perturbed look on his face. "Look kid, I don't want to do this, but you heard the man! If I don't put these on, I'm in big trouble."

"Geez, you've got yourself a real ugly situation then. If you try to put those things on, I'm going to zap you again."

"Ah shit! Why can't you just go along?" the Corporal said as he reached for Tim's hand again.

Just as the Corporal was about to touch flesh, Tim zapped him again.

"He did it again!" the Corporal yelled as he jumped back, holding his hand.

"Corporal, I repeat, I will have your ass if you don't get those cuffs on that prisoner!" It was Miser yelling again.

"Come on kid, please?" the Corporal begged as he reached out again. This time he didn't try too hard because he knew he was going to get it again. He pulled his hand back before Tim even shocked him. He looked at Tim, and then shook his head. Then he tried to grab Tim's arm fast.

Tim zapped him again.

"That's it!" the Corporal screamed. "Someone else put the goddamn things on him."

"Lieutenant, put that man under arrest!" General Miser shouted. "And get someone who can follow orders." Then he yelled, deranged. "Cuff that man!" so hard Tim was sure he had hurt himself.

The other soldier that had walked up with the Corporal was the only other soldier close to Tim. All the others were keeping their distance. Both the General and the Lieutenant were yelling at the poor guy to get the handcuffs from the Corporal, and put them on Tim. Tim wasn't sure what the soldier's rank was, but he could see that the guy didn't have his heart in it. He took the handcuffs the Corporal had given him and reached out for Tim's hand.

The soldier laughed as he jumped back, after Tim had given him the expected jolt.

"I don't think he's going for this!" the second soldier shouted.

"Look, you're going to get us in a hell of a lot of trouble if you keep this up. What do you want?" the Corporal asked Tim.

"I want to talk to the idiot General, and I will not be handcuffed when I do," Tim answered.

"I'll go tell the idiot that. No hard feelings, huh?" The soldier winked as he started to go toward the yelling officers.

"No problems here," Tim agreed.

*

Tim sat back down on the rock and watched, as the Corporal and the General were having a discussion. Tim had to give the guy credit, he was standing rigid, at attention, while the irate Miser yelled and flung his arms around, but Tim could hear the Corporal arguing the point.

Finally, after a couple of minutes of discussion the young soldier, and the Lieutenant came walking back toward Tim.

"Hi," the Lieutenant said as he approached Tim. "Look, we have a problem here. Why won't you let us put the cuffs on? It would make everything a lot easier."

"If you want to make things easy, forget the hand cuffs. I came here to talk. If you guys want to talk, forget the under arrest bullshit, okay?"

"I don't think the General is going to go for that," the Lieutenant explained.

"Then you tell the General, he's got five minutes. I will go where he wants on my own accord, but I am not a prisoner, and if he tries to detain me, I will zap him."

"Oh gosh, don't say that. Do you know how much trouble you're causing?" the exasperated Lieutenant said.

"Oh excuse me, Sir, but you don't think handcuffing me is not a little shitty, from my point of view. I mean, guys, come on."

"You're not going to cooperate then?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Hey, I'm here, and I'm cooperating. Go tell the General to stop pissing around, and let's get on with it. Hey, and tell him, if this crap about the handcuffs isn't dropped, I'm outta here."

The Lieutenant let out a sigh and turned, headed for the General who was standing, watching with his hands on his hips and a nasty look on his face.

*

Tim backed up to a rock close behind him and slid down its side until just his head was showing.

The soldiers watching, figured he was just tired of standing up because no one reacted.

*

He was sitting there about two minutes before he spotted the Lieutenant on his way back.

*

"Well?" Tim said to the officer.

"Ah shit, I tried, but he's being a real asshole about it," the Lieutenant returned. "He said if we don't put on the cuffs, he's going to get tough." The Lieutenant just shrugged.

"What's he doing now?" Tim asked.

"Ah?" the Lieutenant said as he turned back to look in the General's direction.

At that moment, Tim initiated the cloaking program. He didn't know what to expect, and realized, I'm so confident in the dependability of Timtown, I'm not even testing any of the gimmicks the computer is supplying me.

He was watching his hand when he switched on the program and his hand disappeared instantaneous. Wow, normally, vision includes the outlines of my nose, cheeks, and eyebrows. They are always just fuzzy images and shadows, but still there. Now my eyes are completely clear of my body, and this is definitely strange.

*

The Lieutenant turned back toward Tim and did a double take as he looked down to where Tim had been moments before. At first, there was a puzzled look on his face, but it turned into panic as he realized Tim was gone. The officer ran around to the back of the rock, hoping Tim had just gone around it also. The Lieutenant stood at the back of the rock looking around. After a moment, the Lieutenant apparently realized what had happened because he began to smile.

"You little shit!" the Lieutenant exclaimed. "I'll bet you can hear me. Good trick, but the General is going to be livid. Of course it's not my fault, but I'm going to catch the crap anyway. You owe me for this. If you want to even things up, give him a good swift kick in his pompous ass."

"Oh General," the Lieutenant yelled, turning, "you'll never guess what just happened?" The Lieutenant started toward Miser.

*

Tim remained still until the Lieutenant had gone. Although no one could see him, Et had stressed that he still could be heard. The computer offered to remedy that also, but Tim said no.

The best way to really rattle them, if I want to, is to make noises when they can't see me.

Tim waited, and then got up and moved a short distance toward where the Lieutenant was just getting to the General.

"Goddammit, Lieutenant," huffed and puffed the General, "now what? I told you to get the kid cuffed, and to bring him here. What's your excuse now?"

"Ah, Sir, I don't quite know how to explain this."

"Well, try, you damn screw up!" the General shouted.

"Well, Sir, the kid just disappeared," said the Lieutenant with an apprehensive tone.

"What! You incompetent boob! Sergeant, get your men out there, and get that kid!" the General yelled at another soldier. "You Lieutenant, are fucked. Consider yourself under arrest."

"Yes, Sir," the Lieutenant answered.

Within moments, the first Sergeant came running up. "Sir, we can't find him anywhere. He just disappeared, just like the Lieutenant said, Sir."

"Bullshit soldier, people don't just disappear," the General bellowed.

"Sir," said the Sergeant, "that's the kid from Fox, the one that did all the freaky shit."

"I know that, what's your point soldier?"

"Sir, I was standing out there," the Sergeant pointed back, "no more than fifty feet from where he was, and I didn't take my eyes off of him. Sir, he just disappeared into thin air."

The General stood looking at the Sergeant for a moment. "Son-of-a-Bitch. When I get my hands on that little fucker, he's going to be sorry," Miser growled.

At that moment, everyone standing around the General heard a loud, "Whop," and the General's midsection popped out forward.

General Miser spun around with a nasty, awful look on his face, and bellowed. "Who did that? You insubordinate Suns-a—Who hit me? God-Dammit I—"

The General was interrupted by a second "Whop" that caused his stomach to pop out again.

"You bastards!" the General shouted as he reached for his pistol in its holster.

"Sir!" the Lieutenant shouted back. "No one hit you; I can see all the men."

"Lieute—" Another "Whop" interrupted the General. This time, most of the men could see the indentation produced on the General's butt as something definitely made contact there.

"Sir, it's the kid!" the Sergeant shouted.

"Where?" The General had pulled his pistol out and was swinging it around.

"No, Sir, it's the kid that's hitting you," the Sergeant tried to explain.

"What?" The General had a bewildered look on his face, and most of the men were beginning to chuckle.

The Sergeant turned and gave them a cold stare.

"General, I think the kid's made himself invisible, and he's here, kicking you in the ass," the Lieutenant added.

There was another loud, "Whop," as Miser was hit hard in the butt again.

"Goddammit," he roared, "stop that! That's an—"

Miser was again interrupted by another, "Whop," and the giggles from the men started again, this time the Sergeant was included. The General was spinning around with one hand protecting his ass and the other hand swinging the pistol around in wild arcs.

All the soldiers nearby were starting to duck to get out of the line of fire from the pistol.

Something hit the General in the rear again, causing the pistol to discharge. The bullet struck a rock right next to one of the scurrying soldiers. The soldier dove in between the rocks. The Lieutenant and the Sergeant were grabbing at the General, trying to get the pistol away from him. The General had lost his cool, cursing and threatening everyone.

Finally, the two soldiers were able to restrain Miser enough to be able to talk with him.

"Goddammit General, it's the fuckin kid!" the Sergeant shouted. "Will you listen! I saw the kid disappear into thin air, trust me!"

Miser looked at him with rage in his eyes. "Let me up!" Spittle flew from his mouth. "Let me go, or I'll have your asses up on charges so fast that—"

"Sir, listen to us, you've got to settle down," the Lieutenant interrupted.

The General continued to curse and was trying to pull the pistol free of the Sergeant's grip.

"Fuck this shit! Sir, the Lieutenant is trying to tell you something!" The Sergeant was getting really angry; it was showing on his face. "If you don't listen, I'm going to shove this pistol up your ass and fire it. Got that, Sir?"

"Get this bastard's name! Now!" the General shouted.

"That's it!" The Sergeant grabbed General Miser by both cheeks and pulled the General's face to his own. "General, I was at Fox when we had the altercation with this same kid. Now think, Sir! Here, we try to cuff him, and he shocks the shit out of anyone that tries to touch him. At Fox, we shot him, and nothing happened, and we didn't miss, you know that. Now he's back, and now we can't see him, but he's still here. Your sore butt is proof of that."

General Miser had finally calmed down and was listening to the Sergeant.

"We've got to get that Son-of-a-Bitch," the General responded, much calmer now. "If we don't, it will be the end of all of us. He's going to destroy us, if we don't get him first. You know that, don't you Sergeant?"

"Yes, Sir, that's what I've been trying to tell you all along, this kid is a real problem."

*

General Miser was still certain that Tim had somehow escaped and he made all the soldiers search the entire area, over and over. The helicopter gun-ship circled the surrounding hills and canyons joining in on the search.

*

General Miser returned to his command post and was putting together a digging patrol, equipped with metal detectors and sonar sensors. Miser was sure Tim had a cave or something that he had slipped into and was going to get him back.

*

General Miser was in his tent laying down because it had been a long day of humiliation for him. He was sure about there being something inside the mountain and finding the kid there proved it. If only he had some dependable men, someone he could count on. Those fools he had under his command were a bunch of idiots. They had let the kid slip through their fingers. The next time he would make sure he got the kid himself.

The door of his tent opened, and he looked toward it. It closed again without anyone coming through. The General watched the door for a few more seconds and then turned away.

"Can we talk now?" Tim asked as he reappeared inside the door of the tent.

"I thought I told you, I didn't want anyone to disturb me. This better be good," the General answered without looking toward the door

"It won't get any better," Tim said with a sarcastic tone.

The General started to rise. "Apparently soldier; you have forgotten how to address a General."

"I'm not one of your rinky dink, soldier boys, you butt head."

"Jesus H Caarist, so it is you!" The General came all the way around and looked at Tim.

"Yup it's me, and if you want to have an intelligent conversation, I'm willing."

"I should consider any kind of request from you?"

"If you want me to stay, you will."

"Bullshit Sonny." The General had a smile on his face. There had been a pistol under his pillow and it was now pointed straight at Tim.

"But, Sir," Tim laughed as he put his hands up in a mock surrender. "General, didn't you learn anything from the last time your soldier boys tried to shoot me? That gun doesn't mean a thing to me. Go ahead, shoot me!"

"You're a cocky little bastard, I'll give you that, but you're not going to bluff me," the General said as he reached for his phone.

"It's no bluff, but that's not important. I need to talk to Ed Adams; can you get in touch with him?"

"You little wise ass, neither Adams or any of his cronies has anything to say about what goes on here. I'm in charge, and you'd do well to learn that as quickly as possible."

The General spoke into the phone, calling men to his tent. He wasn't taking his eyes or the pistol off Tim.

This approach is going to get me nowhere with this idiot.

"Hey look, can we discuss this thing rationally or—"

"Shut up!" the General interrupted Tim. "You talk when I ask you to and only then. You will also address me as Sir! You got that soldier?" Spittle was dribbling from the General's clenched mouth.

"I'm not in your army, so fuck off!" Tim said and pointed his right hand at the General. He had upped the power a little before he entered the tent.

The General jumped up from his cot and swung the pistol at Tim's head. Tim instinctively ducked, so the pistol just glanced off the side of his head. The momentum of the attack drew the General forward and off balance, allowing Tim to straighten up and move away from the enraged man. The General had stumbled, but caught himself on one knee and was turning back toward Tim. He had a deranged look on his face as he slowly stood up with the pistol pointed at Tim's head. His hand was shaking.

"You little fucker! You insolent Son-of-a-Bitch! I should shoot your wise ass right on the spot."

Tim was about to say something, but figured it wouldn't do any good, so instead he gave the General a laser shot to the middle of his chest. The General jumped back with a loud, "Hump," sound escaping from his mouth and fell back onto the floor, ending in a sitting position. There was a surprised look on his face and he just stared at Tim for a moment, with the pistol pointing down.

In a moment, the surprise changed to anger again and he started to raise the pistol. Tim pointed his right hand at the General's pistol hand and fired, causing the officer to drop the gun.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Tim said.

"What are you doing to me? Do you know who I am? You are going to pay dearly, believe me." The General's voice was unsteady, and it sounded like he was on the verge of crying.

"General, I'm just trying to save you and your men a lot of trouble," Tim said, as the Lieutenant stuck his head through the door of the tent.

"Is there a problem, Sir, I heard you yell—" The Lieutenant stopped his sentence when he spotted Tim.

"You're back," he sounded excited. "I figured we'd be seeing more of you. Hey, could you explain to me how you do all that crazy stuff? I mean sometime when it's convenient. Oh, Sir, I'm sorry," the Lieutenant continued as he looked back at the General, who was holding his arm and was about to spout some more of his pompous rhetoric. "Sir, are you all right?" the Lieutenant cut him off. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"He did it; the, the kid did something to me." The General's voice sounded weak and confused. "He shot me with something. Get some men in here. . .and restrain him."

"I don't think that would do any good, Sir. It might be a good time to listen to him, Sir. I think he has something he wants to discuss, at least that's what he said," The Lieutenant said, as the same Sergeant also entered the tent.

"I want him tied up Lieutenant." Miser's voice was barely audible. "If you had done your job before, he wouldn't have been able to hurt me. This is all your fault. I'll see to it that—"

"Oh for Christ sakes Miser!" Tim interrupted. "Just how damn dumb are you?" Tim said with exasperation. "The Lieutenant is trying to tell you the same thing, I've been trying to tell you."

"You can't call me Miser. You can't do that. You have to address me the correct way. You have to," the General wheezed and whined.

"Oh geeeeeez!" Tim exclaimed. "Is there anyone here I can make some sense to? Hey guys." He turned to the two other soldiers. "I'm telling you, if you don't give up this operation, or whatever you want to call it, real soon, you are all going to be, really, really sorry. Time is running out fellows."

"You can't threaten us like that," gasped General Miser. "I won't stand for it." He started to get up from the floor, but Tim zapped him again in the other arm. The General slumped back and rolled over on his side.

"Is that really necessary?" the Lieutenant asked annoyed.

"Yes it is!" Tim shouted. "I want your illustrious leader to understand; this is nothing compared to what will happen to all of you if you stay here and continue with this shit."

"Now I don't understand?" the Lieutenant said. "I don't have the slightest idea what has you so bothered. We're here on a training mission. What kind of threat is that to you?"

"Nuclear training, no doubt," Tim said.

"No, why would you say that?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Because Lieutenant, you have a thermonuclear device with you," Tim stated.

"That's ludicrous, we don't have anything like that," the Lieutenant said with a little laugh.

"Wanna bet? Go check the container that's sitting down past the rock slide, at the bottom end of this canyon. The one with the guards. It has got a bomb inside."

"That's crazy I tell you, and besides, how would you know that?"

"Trust me, I'm telling you the truth and I can also tell you that the bomb will not go off."

"If you're so sure about that, what are you so worried about?" the Lieutenant asked. "Check it out!" he said to the Sergeant in the next breath.

The Sergeant ducked out the door as quick as he had come in.

"The fact that you brought it here is enough," Tim said.

"I still don't understand. Who are you and what do you want?" the Lieutenant asked.

"It wouldn't really do any good to explain, but I need to get in contact with an Ed Adams. Can you help me?"

"I don't even know who he is, how could I help you?"

"Somebody has to! Christ this thing is getting ridiculous. I 'have' to get in touch with somebody that can stop it!"

"What thing?" the Lieutenant yelled. "You still haven't told me what this is all about! How can I help you if I don't know what this is all about?"

"Phew, look, what's your name?" Tim asked.

"Jeff Matusca, what's yours?"

"Tim Randell. Look, Jeff, there is something inside this mountain the General and his group want. They will never get it because there is 'someone' inside this same mountain that is waiting to fry them; to make a point," Tim paused for a breath. "The barbecue includes, you, the Sergeant, and all your men, if this thing is allowed to go on."

"You're dead serious, aren't you," the Lieutenant said quietly.

"Would I be pissing around with that asshole," Tim pointed to the General who was still lying on his side, "if it was not serious?"

Evidently the three stuns had compounded their effect, and Miser was really out of it.

"This Ed, what was his last name?" Jeff asked.

"Adams, he's the President's adviser. We made a deal that no one would try this stunt, and look what happened."

"The President, as in President of the United States?" the Lieutenant asked with a surprised look on his face.

"Yes, can you get in touch with him?"

"I doubt it. Look Tim, I'm just a lowly Lieutenant. Hell, I'd be totally lost if it wasn't for Blake."

"Blake?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, the guy that just left, the Sergeant. Incidentally, he's totally convinced that you're from off planet. Is he nuts?"

"Is he usually right?" Tim asked.

"Too often." Lieutenant Matusca looked at Tim. "Oh great! You mean to tell me you're from outer space?"

"No, not me, but the crazy stuff I can do, is!"

"Wow!" was all the Lieutenant said as he stared at Tim. It was a look of admiration and interest. "Oh wow!" he said again.

*

"He's right," said the Sergeant as he rushed into the tent out of breath. "There is definitely some kind of nuclear device in that container. Jeff, one of the techs said it was some kind of bunker buster."

"Oh great! Now what the hell do we do?" Jeff asked.

"Get me in touch with Ed Adams, quickly," Tim pleaded.

"Blake, we have to act fast!" Lieutenant Matusca instructed. "Oh, and you were right about Tim here. Oh excuse me, John Blake, Tim Randell. Tim says we have a problem if we stay here."

Lieutenant Matusca turned to Tim. "You mentioned there was someone that didn't want us here?" Jeff continued.

"It's not important right now, just get the hell away."

"Goddamn, hey Tim, Jeff, we are not thinking here," Blake said.

"What are you saying?" Tim asked.

"Ah, who do you think you're talking to?" Blake motioned to himself and the Lieutenant. "We don't matter. That's the guy there that can do something." Blake pointed to the General who had rolled partially on to his back, but still had a blank look on his face. "Number one, no one is going to listen to us, and number two, we are probably committing treason as we speak. They are probably going to shoot us."

"If you don't get the hell out of here what's the difference, you'll still be dead," Tim added.

"Hey, hey, I'll tell you the difference! We're soldiers," said Blake and he sounded mad, "and we are 'American' soldiers. I'm not big on the idea of dying; that's not why I signed up for this stupid, soldier shit, but I can tell you that I don't want to be an embarrassment to myself or my family."

"This isn't the ten o'clock news Blake. You don't want to know it's coming, tell the truth," Jeff said. "Besides, you already threatened to stick a pistol up his ass," he indicated General Miser, "and fire it."

"Is that what I was trying to say, whatever? But, we're dammed if we do and dammed if we don't. Am I correct?" Blake directed the question to Tim.

"I don't see it that way, unless you consider damning all these men here also." Tim motioned outside the tent. "The way I look at it, the military would expect you to do your best to save lives, rather than throw them away on a hopeless mission. Get my point?"

"I agree, but what the hell can I do?" Jeff asked. "I'm still a damn Junior Grade Officer. No one is going to listen to me!"

"They will, if I'm with you and I back you up," Tim said. "It's me and what I've got that they want."

"He's got a darn good point Jeffery," Blake commented.

The Lieutenant looked Tim straight in the eyes and said. "As long as you back us all the way. If we stick our necks out, and you back off, they will hang us out to dry, and I'm using the term lightly."

"You have my word. I will see to it they listen. You just get me there. Deal?" Tim said.

"Deal. Now, who is this guy that you need to see?" Jeff Matusca asked.

*

Sergeant Blake and Lieutenant Matusca put their heads together and began to formulate a plan. They were in big trouble if they didn't pull this one off and they knew it. Jeff had a friend that was a chopper pilot and was on standby for med-evac's. Jeff called his friend and arranged for him to pilot a med-evac chopper for General Miser who had taken ill. His plan was to contact the necessary people from the helo.

*

The general started coming around while they were waiting for the chopper. The company medic offered to give the General a shot, but Jeff was worried about it showing up on any medical tests the hospital would run when they got Miser. Lieutenant Matusca asked Tim if he would hit the General with another charge and Tim delightfully agreed.

*

Tim would wait for the two men to contact Ed. He wondered how resourceful they would be as he watched the helo with them and the General disappear into the darkening sky.

Chapter 24

The President

Ed Adams stood outside an important looking office, talking to Sergeant Blake who had been rushed to Washington to attend an important meeting with the President of the United States.

"I'm worried about Matusca, man," Blake said to Ed.

"I've talked to the President, and he assures me he can keep the wolves off your buddy. Incidentally, that was some ballsy stuff you two pulled out there."

"We didn't have too much choice, the General flipped out, man," Blake returned.

"Yeah, well, the flipped out General is all tied up at the moment. Anyway, I'd like to thank you again," Ed said.

"Hey man, can you tell me what the H is going on?" Blake asked.

"No need to hear it from me, just pay attention in the meeting."

"I am really going to sit in on a meeting with the real President?" Blake asked, holding his breath.

"Yes, you earned it," Ed answered.

"This is strange, man, really weird. Where did that kid come from?"

"That's what the meeting is all about."

*

"My recommendation, concerning order TE2-77809-A-113, is based upon my direct involvement with the situation. It is my opinion that this situation is beyond our ability to compromise. Factually, we are dealing with powers far beyond what we can comprehend. It is my recommendation that we retreat," Ed Adams said to open the meeting in the President's office.

"Oh horse pucky! For Christ sakes Ed, what the hell is going on in your head? You're getting to old for the job," Samuel Steiner, the Secretary of State of the United States said.

"Mr. President, I don't have to take this," Ed said as he moved up in his chair.

"No, you don't," the President agreed. "Dammit Samuel, we brought Ed here because we asked him to try to sort this out for us. He didn't have to do it, but he's here, and now we should listen."

"I am listening Mr. President, but do you think we should even consider this recommendation?" Samuel commented with disdain in his voice.

"Ed has been the closest to this situation, and he has interviewed the main principle. I think his reasoning is meant for the best outcome, for us all. Would you disagree with that Samuel?" the President asked sternly.

"No, no." Samuel turned to Ed. "I apologize Ed, but I just cannot stand with this line of action. We have got to know what is in there. We have to try," the Secretary lamented.

"Try what? We can't detect anything down there. The sonar, the radar, the x-rays won't penetrate," the President said.

"That proves that there is something down there," Samuel said with confidence.

"Oh shit Samuel, no one is disputing that. The argument is, what do we do?" the President asked.

"The military solution!" Samuel declared.

"Samuel, starting a war is one thing, but we have no intelligence at all," the President said. We don't know a thing about our enemy, or if they are even our enemy?"

"Yes we do," the Secretary of State stated.

"What do we know?" the President asked. "No, let me tell 'you'. There are two planes, minimum, or whatever they are that can hit over four thousand knots in level flight, can turn on a dime, and can fire laser beams that disintegrated our planes at will. And a person on a vehicle without wheels. What did he call it Eddie?"

"A Sky-bike Sir."

"Yes, Sky-bikes, thank you. I'd like to have one of those by the way. What else do we have?"

"Well, the kid Mr. President," Ed responded.

"Ah, and what did we learn there? Well, let's see, ah here it is." The President read from a paper he had pick up off his desk. "He's impervious to bullets, disappears at will, and possesses laser weapons in his hands. That's some intelligence we've gathered. Do you know what Admiral Smithers has advised me?"

"He's looking at the situation from a different prospective Mr. President," Samuel complained.

"Sam, his prospective is, 'can we assault this place and hope to win'? He says no, and he's scared to hell. He is a fine military man that looks at the risk his men must take to accomplish a mission. This one, to him, is all risk and nothing to gain. What is there to 'gain' Samuel?" the President asked.

"I can't say exactly," the Secretary answered.

"In your opinion?" the President continued.

"I still can't say Mr. President, we just don't know," Samuel conceded.

"And what decision should I make, based on that?"

"Mr. President, I think we must know. If we get in there—"

"Samuel, Samuel," the President interrupted, "from what I discern from my advisors, we will not be able to breach their defenses. We will never be able to gain access, and even if we did, what might we be up against then. In a nut shell Samuel, any incursion would be disastrous. We have over one hundred thousand personnel in that area, and that is what I have to consider."

"Mr. President, we have millions that are in desperate need of help. Help that we can't provide. What if that fortification—?"

"Fortification—Sam you just reinforced my main concern," the President returned quickly.

"Sorry, wrong word Mr. President, I meant installation."

"An installation that is most certainly fortified, correct?"

"We have no proof of that!" Samuel wailed.

"What about the air incidents Sam?" the President asked.

"We have no proof that it was connected with whoever is in charge in there," Samuel commented.

"The fact that the craft returned there is connection enough," Ed broke in. "The kid also admitted flying one of them."

"Mr. President, we must try, 'it is our duty'," Samuel reiterated.

"Now hold on Samuel. You try to minimize my concerns about what could happen, and then you advise me that no matter what the outcome, we are obligated to attack."

"It wouldn't have to be an attack," Samuel whined, grasping at solutions.

"Oh? Ed, what did the boy advice you, as to our continuing of operations in the immediate vicinity of the so called base. What did he call it again?" the President asked.

"Ah, Whuc Seaacki Mr. President, and he seemed dead serious about warning us away, and I believed him," Ed said.

"Ed, oh Ed!" Samuel wailed. "What has gotten into your head?"

The President was about to intervene, but stopped short. Ed Adams had been a long and trusted friend that paid attention, sorted out his thoughts, and then returned an honest opinion. He needed no help on this one.

"Hey, look Sam, I know what I saw, and I say that the kid is in the know."

"But, we have also started dialog with another individual in there that wants to talk," Samuel returned.

"A mechanical hawk that typed out, 'Take me to your leader'. That's your dialogue?" Ed lectured. "I have seen the boy, and we have talked to him, this other individual we don't know."

"But surely the boy isn't in charge!" Samuel exclaimed. "Shit, six week ago he was a sophomore in the local high school."

"Maybe, but he has spent many years in that vicinity. He might been a plant, at least involved, since god knows when," Ed explained.

"We have his birth records from Wisconsin," Samuel questioned.

"Mr. President," Ed turned toward his boss, "a kid just doesn't show up with this kind of power. He is very involved. He stated that he's 'Number One'. I don't know what that means, exactly, but I believe him, and he has warned us to stay away."

"Oh great, a damn sophomore in high school is telling the most powerful country the world has ever known to stay away from him, and you're taking him serious. What the hell is happening to you Ed?" Samuel complained.

"Sam, stop attacking me, or my reasoning. I know what I saw, and I'm telling you and everyone here, that kid, regardless of his standing in the local high school, is to be taken serious."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," the President jumped in, "I don't think Ed's assessment of the situation is in question. Am I right?" The President paused and looked around to each individual. Each gave a nod of agreement. The Presidents eyes fell on Samuel.

"Mr. President, I, ah, I just can't go with this foolish—"

"Samuel," interrupted the President, "I have read all the reports, and have even talked personally with a, let me see, it's here somewhere." The President shuffled through some papers on his desk. "Ah yes, a Captain Dallas. It seems that this Captain Dallas was one of the first officers on the scene."

"Was that the kid that was a Lieutenant just two days ago?" Samuel asked with a smile.

"The one and the same, and he is now a Captain because he was able to take charge of a delicate situation," the President scolded, "unlike your buddies, the warlords. I have heard from more than one individual, including Ed and the Sergeant standing over there," the President pointed at Blake, "that were present. They inform me that certain individuals, quote, 'lost their heads', and it was necessary for a Lieutenant to take charge. Shall we continue, or dwell on that?" The President looked Samuel straight in the eyes.

Samuel said nothing.

"Ed, this Officer Dallas was the person that briefed you initially about the boy and the girl?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And this report is factual."

"Yes, Sir, I was there, I can guarantee its authenticity."

"Now Samuel," the President's eyes fell on his Secretary of State again, "am I to disregard these reports and evaluations?"

"No Mr. President, but—"

"But what Samuel? Again, this Tim Randell disappears, just vanishes in front of, ah let me see, ah sixty some persons, including Sergeant Blake here." The President nodded to Blake again. "Sergeant, you saw this with your own eyes? Incidentally ladies and gentlemen, Sergeant Blake has been invited here today to give us eyewitness testimony. Nice to have you Sergeant."

"Thank you Sir, I'm honored."

"You saw this with your own eyes, then?" the President continued.

"Yes, Sir, I'm positive they were my eyes," the Sergeant answered

"Ha, ha," the President laughed, "and were you sober?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you Sergeant. I can see why Miser wants your ass," the President snickered.

"Second, this Tim was able to completely evade, what, over fifty fully armed soldiers that had direct orders to stop and detain him, with force if necessary. Did your eyes see this one?"

"No Sir! I mean Sir, that's when he just disappeared, but that's the same thing all sixty men can attest too. He was right there, and the next moment he wasn't."

"And, finally, that this Tim was fired upon, oh, fired 'at' would be a better term. Anyway, according to this report, a soldier fired a forty-five, 'pointblank'," the President's voice rose as he emphasized pointblank as if astonished, "at this Tim, at a range of less than five feet, and they all missed."

"Ah, Mr. President, my eyes saw that one," Ed interrupted, "and as I put in my report, I definitely saw one of the rounds bounce off this Tim."

"It's some sort of trick!" Samuel exclaimed.

"Ah, a trick. What do you think of that Ed, or any of you?" As the President spoke he looked around to the cabinet members assembled around him. "How are we to proceed, if it is indeed a trick?"

"Mr. President, I don't think if it was a trick or not is the point." Muriel Costas, the Secretary of the Interior was the first to speak up.

"Mrs. Costas, could you please elaborate," the President asked.

"Well, Sir, someone that can stage that kind of trick is still someone to take serious," she returned.

"Samuel?" The President turned to the Secretary of State.

"Thanks a lot people!" Samuel spoke loudly. "I am hurt that you think that I don't take this serious. Do you all think I'm that stupid, that I can't see this is out of the ordinary, that this Tim character is, ah is," Samuel paused, "is not just a sophomore in high school." The last part of his speech was of a decreasing volume, like the air had been let out of his determination. Samuel hesitated a moment, and then puffed himself up again. "Regardless, I recommend that we take positive action, and do not allow ourselves to be dictated to, by anyone."

"I appreciate your dedication to your old principles Samuel, but this is a new time, with new problems. We also have to consider the request of this Tim, to consider the sovereignty he asked for," the President said.

"Oh no, Harold, you too!" Samuel yelled. "I'm sorry Mr. President, but you can't be serious, to even consider that he is the legitimate leader of a sovereign state."

"Yes I can, because he brought indisputable proof that Whuc Seaacki, as he refers to it, is indeed, old. A hell of a lot older than our claims to that piece of ground," the President returned.

"But it's in our boundaries, it's, it's not legal," Samuel lamented.

"So we just go in there, and take it away then," the President commented.

"We did make him an offer that I think was more than fair," Samuel returned.

"And, what was his reply?" The President turned to Ed Adams. "Ed, didn't he refuse, flatly?"

Ed was laughing. "Some offer. We told him to leave, or else. And yes, he did, flatly refuse, and as Sam is already aware of, he counter offered to buy us out. I think he was serious."

"Just because he was able to come up with a little platinum and a couple of diamonds doesn't mean a whole lot," Samuel offered.

"Ah, Mr. President." A man in a General's uniform moved forward to the conference table.

"Yes Roger, what is it?" the President acknowledged.

"Well, I have the analysis of the materials this Tim gave us. I thought this would be a pertinent time to reveal it, seeing as it's become an issue."

"Yes General, please go ahead."

"First of all, the flash drive contained some interesting footage."

"What!" Samuel interrupted. "I haven't personally viewed the film, but dinosaurs? Come on people!" Samuel was sputtering.

"We have people analyzing the drive, and so far the images appear real," Roger said, "and there were two tissue samples, one vegetable, and the other animal."

"And people that are so enthralled as to be purposely misled!" Samuel announced.

"I have to agree, somewhat, with Samuel here, but—" the General added.

"See there," Samuel interrupted the General gleefully, "finally someone is willing to admit—"

"But," the General returned the favor, "the platinum sample measured twelve-point-six-one pounds, and was. . ." the General hesitated and used the time to look around the room at all the individuals, "one-hundred percent pure."

"Is that possible?" the President asked, as a unified gasp was emitted from the group.

"Not according to any of the experts I have contacted," the General answered. "And just as puzzling is the analysis of the two diamonds."

"They're fakes, give me a break?" Samuel snapped.

"Yes, in a way," said the General. "They are definitely not naturally formed."

"Ah, I told you so!" Samuel said proudly.

"I wouldn't be so smug Mr. Secretary," the General commented. "The stones are one-hundred and sixteen, and three-hundred and one carats respectively, and they are definitively manufactured, and are of an unheard quality. I have had the platinum and the diamonds appraised, and the bottom line is. . ." again the General hesitated. He was known for his sense of dramatics, but was factual and accurate. "Seven-point-eight-billion dollars give or take a few."

"Holy shit!" one of the group exclaimed loudly. The rest either mumbled something or simply made noises of astonishment.

"What are you getting at General?" Samuel asked.

"That there is a distinct possibility that this Tim can indeed buy us out," Ed stated with a smile.

"What!" Samuel bellowed. "Are you out of your mind? Just because he manages to come up with a few bobbles and bangles doesn't mean he has anymore, and certainly not enough to threaten us."

"Samuel, I swear, you can be the most exasperating person sometimes," the President said.

"Why do you say that Mr. President, I'm just looking out for our best interests?"

"Yes, yes I'm sure you are, but sometimes you just don't pay attention."

"But, Sir, it's not possible. How can one person possibly have the resources to accomplish what the General is proposing?" Samuel whined.

"General, would you please explain to the Secretary, and anyone else that doesn't see what you're getting at, your reasoning," the President said.

"Yes, Mr. President, I'd be glad to. Ladies and gentlemen, the platinum is of such a pure quality, it's definitely a product of some high tech processing. And the diamonds are manufactured and so valuable that I am convinced; this Tim fellow can process and manufacture any amount of the materials necessary. In my summation, he wasn't kidding about the buyout."

"The golden rule applies here General?" Ed asked, remembering his conversation with Tim.

"I would say so Ed. He who has the gold, makes the rules, definitely applies here."

"This is impossible. It just can't be happening," Samuel groaned.

"But you do see how it could be possible?" the President asked.

"Yes, if he, indeed, has the capacity to do what he advocates, we are, indeed, in a lot of trouble," Samuel conceded.

"Now dammit Samuel, don't be such a pessimist," the President laughed.

"Well, Sir, he has the weapons, he has the capitol, why shouldn't I be worried."

"I appreciate your new concerns, and don't ever diminish them. That's why I wanted you here, but try to understand this Tim kid," the President advised. "Apparently he wants to be left alone. That's been his only request so far."

"That's fine, but what if someone else is either in charge, or he's just stalling for time? Or, what if someone else is able to take over? What then?" Samuel asked.

"Mr. Secretary," Ed responded. "I think that's his biggest concern. He is afraid of anyone acquiring the power he has. That's why he doesn't want us there."

"I don't trust him!" Samuel snapped.

"You don't have to!" the President snapped back. "Just listen to what he has to say, and for gosh sakes Samuel, don't piss him off. You can do that sometimes, you know."

"I'm sorry Sir, and you're right, I uh, I can be annoying at times, I realize that."

"Good, now I expect you and General Amherst here to put your heads together, form a rock pile, and formulate a strategy to keep those fricken hawks in that war room from making a serious mistake. You got it?"

"Yes, Mr. President. I see the importance of what you say, but it won't be easy. Can you give us any advice on how to continue?" Samuel asked.

"I don't know how you should go about it from this end." The President leaned forward and turned toward Ed Adams. "Ed, we must set up an open channel with Tim. See what he expects of us, and see if we can satisfy him. I'm sure that if we can alleviate his fears, we might be able to win ourselves an important ally."

"Is there anything you would like to convey to Tim, Samuel, General?" Ed asked.

"Yes!" Samuel responded immediately. "Tell him to keep those damn planes inside. Roger and I cannot, I repeat, cannot hope to control this situation militarily if those planes appear again. Right now there is a shoot on sight order, and even you Mr. President cannot change that."

"Ed, he's right on that one. That's first on your list," the General Amherst added.

"What if he doesn't agree?" Ed questioned.

"If he can't comply with some requests from us, then we can't work with him. I'm sure he is smart enough to see that," the President said.

"Let's hope so. I still think it's important to learn what's inside, and maybe a strong hand isn't the answer," Samuel added.

"Ah Samuel, you never quit. I appreciate that, I really do," the President said.

"Thank you sir, I will do my best, I promise," Samuel said.

"Oh, and Ed, could you please investigate that other possible contact inside?" the President asked.

"Ah Sir," Samuel responded quickly. "I think I should handle that one."

"Ed's the one with the contacts out there, I think he should—"

"I was already handling that Sir," Samuel quickly cut the President off, "and it would be better if I continued."

The President turned to Ed.

"It's okay by me," Ed said, with a shrug. Samuel had already turned to leave the office.

"Good, now let's get some things done," the President said. He looked at Ed. "By now, the area around that location should be cleared of any troops, right?"

The President asked Sergeant Blake to remain as the rest of the people moved out of his office. When everyone was gone, the President asked Blake, "Did the kid really kick Miser in the ass?"

"More than once, Sir," Blake stated.

"Damn, I'd have given anything to be there. I certainly can't get away with something like that. According to this report," the President picked up a piece of paper, "you threatened to stuff a pistol up his ass and fire it?"

"I got a little carried away, Sir," Blake said meekly.

"Oh, don't apologize Sergeant, that's something else I'd love to do, but can't. I'm envious, really I am."

"Sir, are we going to get in some real trouble. I mean, I'm worried about Matusca, I mean, the Lieutenant, Sir."

"He's no longer a Lieutenant, and I will make sure he's covered. Ed is taking care of that. You two did a good job Sergeant, and we won't forget. Now get the hell back out there, and for gosh sakes, try not to get carried away, again, Lieutenant."

"Just like that Sir, you can promote us?"

"What does that seal up on the wall say?" The President pointed to the Great Seal of the President of the United States of America.

"It says you can, indeed, make me an officer just like that, Sir."

"Ah, you are a wise ass. I expect you to keep your buddy and yourself out of trouble. You got me?"

"Yes, Sir!" Blake said as he saluted smartly and turned.

Ed poked his head into the President's office, just as Blake was going out.

"Yes, Ed, what is it?" the President asked.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you noticed the sudden change in our dear Secretary, Sir."

"Oh, you mean when the value of the bobbles and bangles was established. No, I didn't notice any change," the President laughed.

Chapter 25

Going Home

Arty requested the inhabitants of Timtown gather in the main control chamber at a specific time. He gave no reason and he allowed them no excuses for not attending. He gave, what seemed to be, a stern warning that everyone must be there.

"I wonder what the Metal Man wants?" Margie asked Sims's wife, Elaine.

"I can't imagine. I hope it's to tell us that we can go," she returned.

"You want to go out there? I wonder if it's safe?" Margie said.

"I don't think I care. I'm just so sick of being confined in here and not knowing what's happening here, or there. It was okay when Hal was here because I felt there was someone watching out for me and the kids. But now he's gone, and I just don't want to go on being trapped in here. I have to know what's going on."

"Maybe we'll find out. That's what this is all about, I'll bet?" Margie said.

"You don't believe that any more than I do sweetie," Elaine said.

"I'm hoping, but you're right, I don't trust that piece of machinery," Margie said.

"Look, you and I need to get him to tell us what's happened to everyone, Hal, Jake, Ann, Tim. I even wonder about those three guys building the cabin out in the forest. All those people have just disappeared, so what is going on?" Elaine said.

"Well, I did see Tim two days ago, and he said to be patient, but since then nothing," Margie said, and then she changed the subject. "What about Jeremy, is he any better?"

"Oh, I don't know, he's pretty hard to figure out," Elaine said. "You know, he's my son, and I've taken care of him since he was born, but in all that time, I've never had any clue as to what he was all about. Hal was the one that could communicate with him, somewhat, and now he's gone."

"He seems to be talking to someone though," Margie said. "I know it's all gibberish, but it seems to have a rhythm, like a real conversation. It's like listening to someone speak a language you don't understand."

"I know he's in contact with someone, but more than likely it's just someone that he's created in his own mind." Elaine paused for a moment. "What do you think we should do Margie? You're stronger than I am. I hate to lean on you, but I have no one else."

"Oh Elaine, I wish I was a strong as you think, but I'm probably more scared than you are. I never trusted Arty from the start. I can remember Ann telling me, I hope she's okay, Tim thought that Arty had done something real bad; that without his body it was impossible for Arty to be real. You know, I sensed that very thing from the start. Tim would never really discuss it with me, but I know that's what he was thinking. I wish I knew where he was, if he's okay?"

"Oh, that one can take care of himself. It's gotten difficult between him and Arty. I think he is just lying low," Elaine said.

"I hope so, I sure do. If something's happened to him. . . I don't know. . . I hate to think about it because Arty scares the hell out of me!" Margie confessed.

*

Arty arrived, floating gently through the end of the tunnel and into the chamber. He continued on his way, passing between the residents that had gathered and were milling about. The three youngest children ran up to him. Arty had always played with the children and appeared to have genuine affection for them. Jeremy was the one exception. Arty and he would just stare at each other for a few moments, and then go their own way.

*

Arty started to play with the children. Their favorite game was for the children to hang from his metal arms, and then he would take them for rides. At first the adults worried because Arty and the children would travel at high speeds out across the forest. He didn't hesitate to take them up high and then out across the vast expanse, disappearing in the distance with them dangling from his arms. The children, when scolded about playing such a dangerous game, all said that there was nothing to worry about because Arty always held on to them with his Magic Beam.

Margie and Elaine waited as Arty continued to play, anxious to hear what he had to say. Finally after about fifteen minutes, they couldn't stand the drama any more and decided to approach him.

"Say Arty, I hate to spoil your fun, but we thought you had something you wanted to talk to us about?" Margie asked.

"Yes I do and I am sorry, but they have so much fun. I appreciate simple things like this."

"I can see that, but we need to get on with what you have to tell us," Margie continued.

"Yes, yes of course, and you deserve no less. Could you all come here please?" Arty announced.

The Timtown group moved toward Arty and gathered around him.

"I know the last couple of weeks have been sort of boring for you, but there were many things that had to be sorted out," he said.

"We are going to get some answers then?" Margie asked.

"Yes you are. For one, from now on, none of you will be restricted on where you can go," the Man-machine said.

"Big deal," Elaine said with purpose in her voice. "I want to see the outside. I want to see if it's still there!"

A number of the group agreed in unison.

"That includes the outside," Arty said with a big smile on his face.

"What, are you serious? You're saying it's okay to get out?" Margie asked quickly.

"Yes, that is what I am saying, but, there is going to have to be some preparation first."

"I knew it," Margie complained.

"Now just hold it a second." Arty looked at Margie, his smile was still there and he didn't raise his voice as he continued. "It is still dangerous out there. Do you want to walk out through that energy field right now, because if you do, go ahead, I am not going to stop you? Or do you want to take a little time and prepare yourself so you can handle any problems that might arise?"

"No, I just got anxious," Margie explained.

"Understandable," Arty returned, looking directly at Margie. "I am glad you agree because I want everyone to be able to get out, and I am sure 'you' can see the need to protect the others that are not as capable as yourself."

"Me, you want me to watch out for everyone?" Margie questioned.

"Yes, Sims told me once that you were very instrumental in protecting the group before you came in here."

"What does this job of protector involve?"

"It involves watching out for danger, and if danger presents itself, doing something about it."

"Are you telling me, you are going to allow me to carry weapons?" Margie asked.

"I am telling you, and everyone else here, you do not have to cower within this mountain anymore. Anyone that has an inclination to go outside, can do so with the full protection of whatever is available from here." Arty's smile got bigger.

"Oh wow, you mean we can get the things Tim has? Like the laser thing he shoots with," Sims's young daughter asked, excited.

"Yes, I see no reason you fine people should be kept from what is rightfully yours. I know there is not much left out there, but what is left, belongs to you."

"All right!" Elaine yelled as she reached for her young daughter, caught her up in her arms and hugged her. "Honey, were going home. Did you hear that, we can go home?"

"Is Daddy there?" the little girl asked.

"I don't know honey, I don't know," Elaine said as she looked up at Arty.

"I am sorry Mrs. Sims, but I do not know either. You can certainly do your best to find out what did happen, and I hope that it has a happy ending."

All the group were excitedly talking about the first things they were going to do. They were all prepared to go, at that moment.

"Now hold on, please, folks," Arty was trying to cut through the din of all the people talking at once. He let out a loud whistle, and finally got their attention. "Hey now, hold it. No one is going to just go running out without a little preparation. Let us all simmer down and make some sort of plan, shall we?"

Margie jumped in and took charge. The next few minutes were spent organizing the excited mob into a manageable group. After that was accomplished, the next few hours were dedicated to putting a working plan together, one that would allow them to explore in safety.

Margie was excited about this new revelation. It was what she wanted most, but in the back of her head some nagging questions remained, but she would wait until a better time.

*

Jeremy was in the chamber the whole time, but was still exchanging gibberish with the imaginary person.

*

Arty, after he had made the proclamation, had gone around to every individual and spoke with them. He was glad, he told them, that they would be able to get on with their lives. He also told each of them, they could count on him for anything they needed.

Elaine was deeply involved in the preparations so did not really take much notice when Arty went over to Jeremy. Jeremy and he seemed to be talking in the strange tongue. Whatever had taken place was over in a moment. Arty had come back over to where the group was making plans, and Elaine noticed he seemed to be annoyed. His smile was gone as he approached, but returned when she looked at him. She forgot about it.

Arty was taking no part in the preparations, except to make available anything the group decided was necessary to insure their safety and comfort. He did stress the need for preparation and was insistent about the three smallest children being well cared for.

*

It was getting to be late in the afternoon by the time everything was decided. Only then, did Arty make any demands. He would construct the requested items that night while they all rested, and in the morning he would dispense them. He then insisted that each person would be trained as to the functions of the items, and then, and only then, would the group be allowed to go out. He said that they should be ready by mid-afternoon.

"I guess we can live with that," Margie said. "After all, your demands are in everyone's best interest, 'I guess'?"

Margie had tried to make the statement in such a way as to test Arty's reaction, but he didn't respond. It seemed that he was definitely on the up and up.

Arty said that he was going to leave and he could be contacted through the computer if anything else was needed. He floated across the chamber and as he passed by Jeremy, Margie heard Jeremy speak.

"Teglossix hout ta tal emittog ta clox." Was the best translation she could make.

"Dut teut Dic!" Arty definitely answered, and in a rather harsh tone. Arty seemed to pause for a moment, think about it, then continue on his way out.

*

Later that evening, Margie and Elaine were sitting talking; everyone else had gone to sleep.

"Phew, what a day. Did you ever think it would turn out this good?" Elaine asked.

"No, I have to admit, I wasn't expecting anything good, let alone this. It will be so great to get out," Margie returned.

"You do you realize, I haven't been out there at all. You at least had that one trip. I never asked what it is like out there?" Elaine continued.

"Oh, about the same as when you were last there, except there isn't anyone around, not that we could see at least," Margie said.

"Somebody must have been there; otherwise, Hal would have come back. I know he didn't run away. I know that!"

"Now stop that!" Margie interrupted. "You don't know that he's not okay."

"My dear, I lived with that man for many years and I got to know him. He is dead, I'm sure, otherwise he would be here with his family."

"I wonder what made Arty decide to let us go and offer all the help?" Margie said to change the subject.

"He's always said it was all right. Tim's the one that was so pessimistic, remember?" Elaine replied.

"Yeah, I still wonder though?"

"What's got you troubled Honey?"

"Oh, I don't know. All this is still so strange. I guess I'm still not comfortable with Arty. You're right, Tim was the one that didn't want us to go out, but I still trust him. I wonder where he is? We forgot to ask you know."

"I thought about it also, but forgot to ask," Elaine added.

"Look at Jeremy over there," Margie said, changing the subject.

"He's finally gone to sleep, the poor dear," Elaine said. "He had a long day. Whoever or whatever he talks to sure gets an earful."

"He talked to Arty," Margie said.

"I saw that too, but what could they talk about? They couldn't possibly understand each other."

"I thought that too, but when Arty left, he definitely spoke to Jeremy in that strange language."

"You think Jeremy understood him?" Elaine said, with a surprised look on her face.

"It sure looked like it. And I'm also sure Jeremy told him something he didn't like."

"Well, I'll be darned. You know, I thought they had spoken earlier, but I just passed it off. Thinking back, you know, I think Arty 'was' peeood about it. What the HE double hockey sticks could be going on?" Elaine asked.

"As if I would have a clue. This is a very strange place. I know why Ann didn't like it here," Margie said.

"I wonder what happened to that poor dear, she was so sweet?" Elaine questioned.

"Tim said she was someplace else and was safe, and doing well," Margie answered. After a period of thinking to herself, she added. "And, Jake, I wonder what really happened?"

"You don't believe that story either?" Elaine asked.

"I don't know what to think," Margie said.

"I just hate to think something nasty happen to him too because he was a nice man," Elaine said as she settled farther into the chair.

Margie had gotten comfortable in one of the sleeping berths and was going to respond, but decided to try to sleep so she said nothing. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

Chapter 26

Major Matusca

Tim had gone back to his apartment after Lieutenant Matusca, the Sergeant, and Miser left on the helo. Et informed him of Arty telling the residents of Timtown that they could leave.

I should contact Clank, and find out what this is all about, but I might be playing into his hand. I'm sure everyone is thrilled, and they will look at me as the spoiler. Clank is up to something, I'm sure of that, but this isn't the time.

"What's Clank working on?" Tim asked Et.

"Mainly a cloaking program."

"Cloaking?"

"Yeah, he was impressed with your disappearing act, I assume, he wants one."

"But that is part of the protection shield I have, and I'm sure Arty has the same thing. Why would he need another one?"

*

Tim waited until just before dawn and left Timtown. Using a Ski-bike, he went down to Mountain Cove. The Army had pulled back from Timtown and was camped there. He left the Ski-bike, hit the invisible program, and went into their camp. Jeff Matusca was there, and Tim reversed the program when he saw him and walked over to the Lieutenant.

"Where the hell you been, I was worried?" the Lieutenant asked excited. "I had one hell of a night, let me tell you."

"Did you get in touch with Ed Adams?" Tim asked. That was all he was interested in.

"Not directly," Jeff said.

"Oh shit, we've got to get something going here, I—"

"I talked to a Randy guy," Jeff interrupted quickly. "There was a big meeting with the damn President, and they rushed Blake there. Randy said that he and Ed are on their way back."

"All right!" Tim exclaimed.

"They want me to stay here and keep it under control. I don't know though? I just heard that Miser is maybe on his way back too, and guess whose butt is going to be in the sling?"

"Ed will watch out for you, and if Blake is with the big shots, they must be listening to him. You have faith in him, so don't worry," Tim assured Matusca.

A soldier ran up to Lieutenant Matusca and said an important call had come through. The Lieutenant asked Tim to stay put, and left a couple of soldiers with him. They must have been for company; Jeff surely didn't think trying to guard Tim was worth the effort. Tim walked a short distance up a small ravine and sat down against some rocks. The two soldiers followed.

"I'd sure like to know what this is all about?" one of the soldiers asked. He looked barely older than Tim.

"They don't tell you anything?" Tim commented.

"Not really, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I figured I was going to be nothing but just a warm body when I signed up, so what am I bitching about anyway, huh?" the soldier said.

"Shit Compton, you all ain't even got that covered," the other soldier snickered.

"Fuck off Stanton. At least I wonder sometimes. I make an effort. Your sorry ass is as dumb as it looks," Compton returned.

"Yeah, we sure as hell ain't worth much to the brass, not like this dude here," Stanton said as he looked at Tim. "What's your story anyways?"

"Ah, well, it would be hard to explain," Tim said.

"I'll bet. Is all that shit about you true?" Compton asked.

"It depends on what shit you've been hearing," Tim answered.

"You from outer space, like I heard?" Stanton asked.

"No," Tim laughed.

"Where you from then?" Stanton continued.

"Mountain Cove."

"Where the hell's that? Sounds like way up in the snow somewhere?" Stanton asked.

"No, you dumb shit," Compton said. "See, it's like I told you, you don't pay attention. Mountain Cove is this little town 'here' that got flattened by the earthquake."

"Shit man, who gives a fuck whatever they called it, it ain't much now. You here," Stanton added, looking at Tim, "when that shaker hit?"

"Yeah," Tim answered.

"Yeah, no, shit boy, you don't say too much," Stanton complained.

"Hell Stanton, he's not interested in talking to us, he's got to see the big boys. I'll tell you kid, I'm glad I'm me, and you is you. That sorry ass General was pissed off. Did you really kick him in the ass?"

"Yeah."

"Ha, ha, hey, look, if you want to just lay back and watch the birds shit as they go by, it's okay with me. Kicking one of those mother fuckers right square in the ass is okay in my book," Stanton stated.

"And a fuckin General at that!" Compton exclaimed.

A third soldier came running up the ravine.

"Hey kid, that Ed guy you wanted to talk to is on the phone," the soldier said.

Tim ran to the wash where Lieutenant Matusca was waiting with a phone in his hand. Tim reached for the phone and put it to his ear.

"Ed, are you there?" Tim asked.

"Yes, it's me. Things got a little out of hand out there, I heard?"

"Yeah. What happened with you? Where's Ann?" Tim didn't wait for an answer to the first question. "Miser said he was going to grab her back."

"He was just blowing smoke, she's just fine."

"They don't have her?"

"No, they thought they had an angle, but it didn't go anywhere."

"What happened, they piled in here looking to take over."

"It was a rouge operation. They didn't have the backing they assumed they had," Ed answered.

"Rouge operation, huh?" Tim chuckled accusingly. "They brought a nuclear-bunker-buster with them,"

"We need to talk about that, but not over the phone, okay?"

"Still, it seems like they would need some fairly important backing to bring that along."

"Not really, it was a tactical weapon."

"A bomb is a bomb, Ed," Tim declared.

"I'll explain when I see you. You should have no further trouble, for now."

"They're not giving up are they?"

"No, but for the moment it's a stable situation, and I'm on my way. It's going to take Randy and myself at least seven hours to get to you; can you hold down the fort that long?"

"It depends on who's in charge out here. I put the General down and—"

"I heard," Ed interrupted.

"I zapped that loud mouth Miser, and—"

"Tim, what did you have to do that for?" Ed interrupted again.

"I demanded to see you, and all I got was bullshit. You know the guy."

"Yeah, yeah I do, but I hope the hospital holds him a little while longer, at least until we get there. He's an awful powerful man," Ed stated.

"Ah huh. Well, he looked like a hell of a big fool yesterday."

"Yeah, well, you just tone down that huge ego of yours. I know what you can do, but you're making it tough on some of the little people. I don't want anyone getting hurt because you weren't thinking. You're the one that doesn't want any trouble, so don't start it rolling from your end." Ed had just given him a lecture, Tim could tell by the tone of his voice.

"I'm sorry. I'll keep my mouth shut and my hands in my pockets, until you get here, okay?"

"Okay. If any important brass show up before I do, you get the hell out of there and just wait. We had a meeting with the President and a policy has been implemented. I'll fill you in when I get there. Just lay low, promise?"

"I can do that."

"Good. You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get both those Lieutenants off the hook. Every time you show up, we have to promote everybody to keep them from the gallows."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, the first one, the guy I put in charge over Major Warren is now a Captain, but he's still not comfortable, and thinking about the Peace Corps. I can't blame him?"

"What about the one still here, Matusca? You heard what he did, didn't you?"

"Yeah, he was another lucky break, so the President made him a Major. He now has command of the base there."

"Does he know about this yet?"

"No, put him on the phone," Ed instructed.

Tim smiled as he gave the phone to the Matusca. "It's for you, get ready for a new life."

Matusca listened on the phone for a while. "I can't do that, they'll hang me."

"That was different," he said, then listened again.

"That was different, I tell you," he said into the phone after another moment.

"I know I did the right thing, shit, he'd lost it, and I had witnesses." The Lieutenant listened again. "I can't do that," he whined.

"Are you fricken nuts man." Matusca listened again.

"Oh sure, you tell me that on the phone, then I don't see you again, and I spend the rest of my life in Leavenworth, and that's the good news because they decided not to hang me." He listened again.

"Right, and the bad news is they shoot me." The Lieutenant looked at Tim and screwed out his tongue, crossed his eyes, and made the crazy gesture by circling his finger next to his temple.

"Hey, I don't care who you say you are, I need to hear from somebody I recognize before I stick my butt on the line like that, understood?" He listened again.

"Good!" The Lieutenant listened.

"Oh, what are you worried about him for, you've seen what he can do?" Jeff announced.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's a special situation," Matusca said after listening again.

"Of course. Do you think I'm blind? Okay, okay, I'll do what I can, but you get here fast because I still feel like a Lieutenant. As long as you understand that, okay, I will do my best. Yeah, I'll believe him."

"Hey Blake, what's it like in the big city?" The phone had obviously been given to his friend the Sergeant.

"No shit! And you were just a lowly buck Sergeant."

Jeff listened.

"They can do that?" Jeff questioned.

"That guy wasn't kidding then, and you're sure they're telling the truth?" Jeff said after listening.

"Hey, how about that!" he said into the phone.

"Yeah, well it's still not going to do me any good if big brass starts showing up," Jeff said sounding worried.

"No shit, they can do that too, huh?" Jeff seemed surprised.

"I guess so, if that's what they want me to do, and I've got the pull." Jeff agreed.

"I guess so," Jeff continued.

"Hey hurry back." Jeff looked at Tim and gave him a surprised look, and shook his one hand with the fingers out, signaling, 'like wow'.

"Yeah, put him on," Jeff said.

"Thank you!" Matusca was back with Ed. "Hey, you just keep me from the gallows, and that is thanks enough," said Matusca with a relieved look on his face.

"What the hell do they want from me?" Jeff said to Tim as he switched off the phone. "According to Blake and the Ed guy, I'm now a Major, and this has been deemed an outpost, and, I'm the new Post Commander. According to Ed, I am in charge here and no one can argue the point." Jeff was shaking his head. "I wonder what they'll think of next?" Major Jeff Matusca looked at Tim. "I wonder if they know what they're doing?" he added with uncertainty.

"Congratulations Sir," Tim announced. "I'm sorry to get you into this mess, but you've been a big help so far, and I appreciate it."

"Listen kid, don't get me wrong. I did what I had to, to keep the situation calm because I am responsible for those men there." He gestured toward some soldiers. "I don't know what's going on, but I can see it is way out of my league. I'm so far out of my league right now, I'm not even going to worry about it. This Ed guy clams to be working directly for the President, so I don't know? But, until he gets here, do me a favor; don't cause any trouble. I would be completely happy if you just disappeared until your friends arrive. Can you do that?"

"Yup, that's no problem."

"Good, this Ed guy will contact me before he arrives. How can I get you when I need to?"

"Send your guys down into the canyon where you found me, and call my name."

"Where in the canyon?"

"I'll show them," Tim said.

*

Tim went down into the pools with the two soldiers, Compton and Stanton, and directed them into the pool with the entrance. They were instructed to remain there until Ed arrived, and when they got the call from Matusca, they were simply to walk into the crack and call Tim's name.

*

"Hey dude, what the hell is that supposed to do? You making me out for a chump?" Stanton asked.

"No, no I'm not," Tim said as he activated the force field, and the rocks dissolved. Then Tim walked through the blue light into the base, leaving the two soldiers standing in the crack with absolute astonished looks on their faces. Now it wouldn't make any difference if they knew where the opening was.

*

Tim returned to his apartment. He knew if the military came back it was going to be pivotal, and it was imperative that he and Ed talked about it in advance. He arranged to bring Ed and Randy into Timtown, transporting them to the Nowhere Place. There they would be completely alone, and Clank wouldn't be able to listen.

"All your friends are very excited," Et announced.

"Why's that?" Tim asked

"They are looking forward to getting out."

"Yeah, I can't blame them. When is this happening?"

"Sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Get me to Margie, I smell a rat."

*

Tim materialized in the forest, half a mile in.

Margie was sitting with her feet in the stream.

"Hey lady," Tim called, hoping he wouldn't startle her.

She turned. "Hey guy, finally decided to spend some time with a friend, huh?"

Tim couldn't read anything in the tone of her voice because it sounded completely neutral.

"I've been awfully busy," he offered as an excuse, walking up to her.

"I can see where us 'mere mortals' can take up too much of one's time," Margie said, still sitting.

Now Tim knew she wasn't happy with him.

"I ah. . . I guess I have no excuse," Tim admitted. "I know I've been bad, but don't I get a hug."

Margie kind of hesitated, but then stood up. She motioned for Tim to come over, and then she wrapped her arms around him.

Tim activated the molecular transfer and they both started to disappear together.

Margie let out a small shriek as she felt the transfer begin, but continued to hold Tim.

"I thought you'd never ask," she giggled, as they both materialized in the Nowhere Place." Margie looked around after releasing Tim. "Not much of a place you've got here. I thought you'd found something spectacular, and that's why I didn't see you too much, but this, golly, I must be really boring."

"Don't take it personal, but this isn't where I come," Tim explained.

"Good, I'd really be worried if it was, considering how much time you spend away."

"Sorry about that, but it's an unnerving time."

"Like how, Junior?"

"Like, you're all ready to go outside, and it might not be the best time to do it."

"Hey look Tim, you're what, sixteen?"

"Yeah."

"And, I'm thirty-three."

"So."

"So, I don't care how smart you think you are, or how concerned you may be, but I'm not going to appreciate you trying to make my decisions for me, and either are any of the other adults in here, make sense?"

"Even if I know things you—"

"There's the problem, kid," Margie interrupted, "if you know something, let us in on it."

"I can't without Art. . .Clank knowing. That's why I brought you down here."

"You mean Clank can't hear us here?"

"Nope."

"Good thinking. I appreciate you're considering me. Does this mean you want to confide in an older woman, once again?"

"Yes, Margie, I need to know what you think."

"Okay, explain it to me."

"Well, you and the others are heading outside, and it's likely other people will be there."

"So what's the problem?"

"I'm not too sure everybody is going to hit it off."

"Come on Tim, give us more credit than that for gosh sakes. I was a professional woman, and Elaine—"

"Oh, I'm not worried about you guys," Tim interrupted, "but some of the ones you will meet can be real jerks."

"Jerks, as in?"

"Ever had to deal with a pompous General?"

"Yyeeaahh. . ." Margie was thinking, "They can be difficult. . .sometimes."

"Well, one of them is kind of important, and he's really pissed at me."

"I suppose, Generals don't generally deal with cocky kids too well."

"Especially kids that kick them in the ass."

"Tim, you didn't?" Margie laughed.

"I did."

"Son, you need a little lesson in diplomacy."

"Yeah, I've been told exactly that already, but please Margie don't get too anxious. Don't go until I let you know it's okay, okay?"

"No good sport, because I'm not the one in charge. The others are chomping at the bit."

"But it might be dangerous?"

"To who?"

"To. . ." Tim hesitated. "Look, you guys are going outside and you don't have anything to worry about because—"

"Because we can take care of ourselves, just like you can," Margie smiled at the comment.

Shit, Clank has got himself an army.

Tim sighed. "Margie," Tim continued, trying to plead his case, "the soldiers are going to see you, Elaine, a bunch of kids, with some old farts gathered in, and their natural inclination will to be corral you guys, and hustled you out of here."

"We won't go for that."

"I know, that's how the trouble's going to start."

"The soldiers won't shot at women and kids."

"Oh, they won't start it, but Clank and the higher ups will, and after two women, some geriatrics, and a bunch of children scatter the Army, Clank will have what he wants," Tim proclaimed.

"Does all this surprise you?" asked Margie.

"Timtown?"

"No silly, the way the adults act?"

"Are you categorizing me as out of the loop?"

"Pretty astute for a kid, Junior," Margie reached over and tousled his hair, "but you are out of this loop, farther than you realize."

"How so?" Tim was curious.

"You're unique, you know, the first real Pharaoh in history, and in modern times yet."

"Oh come on," Tim objected, but he was actually wondering if he was thinking about her comment or trying to be modest."

"Seriously, and it's not a bad thing, really."

"I don't want to be a Pharaoh."

"But you are!" Margie declared. "You have landed in a situation that gives you absolute power, without the threat of losing it."

"Oh, Clank doesn't see it that way," Tim sounded miffed, "I have things to worry about."

"I think you're trying to do the right thing, and are confusing that issue with how secure your power is."

"Think so?"

"Can Clank hurt you, or can he hurt us?"

"He can hurt you guys."

"What about you?"

"Not me personally, but through you, yes."

"There you go; it's your sense of right and wrong that's getting in your way."

"But, I need to do the right thing because I don't want to be one of those scummy bastards that prey on others."

"It's the way of the world, Junior, but just listen, regardless of what happens you are on the road to being a real leader, someone that can make a difference."

"How so?" Tim asked, pleased that Margie though that much of him.

"Because, the best possible form of government is a benevolent dictator that cannot be toppled," declared Margie.

"Go on," Tim was listening intently.

"A person that covets absolute power always has to be watching his or her back because other people, friend and foe can't be trusted. Thus, the person can't concentrate on doing their thing because they have to spend too much time on self-preservation. In short, paranoia can get in the way of progress. Thus a secure leader is a happy leader, a happy leader is a competent leader."

"I'm impressed. How come you know so much?" Tim asked.

"I was in the politics business, I told you already."

"You said something about being a spin doctor or something."

"I was a political analyst, same thing. It was my job to make people look good."

"I like your take on things, but what the hell do I do about the mess headed my way?"

"It's simple, get rid of the Army," Margie suggested.

*

It was afternoon when Tim reactivated the force field and walked out into the outside world. Ed Adams had contacted Captain Matusca, and he had in turn contacted Compton who had stood in the crack and asked for Tim. Compton felt rather foolish standing there calling for Tim, facing solid rocks, until the rocks began to shimmer and turned to blue haze. When Tim walked out of the blue light, Compton realized that he had just performed the most important duty of his entire military career, possibly his entire life. He stood there at rigid attention, saluted Tim, with a huge smile on his face.

"You swallow a canary or something?" Tim asked.

"No Sir, but I am happy to be of service, Sir," Compton stated.

Tim looked Compton over as he walked by him on his way out of the pool. The soldier remained at attention, with the smile, watching the force field change from the beautiful blue light into the rock wall. When it was complete, Compton's shoulders relaxed and he sighed.

*

Tim returned to the camp and found Major Matusca.

"You have some powerful friends," he said to Tim.

"Why, did they make you a General, already?"

"No, but my command of this area is iron clad. I'm a goddamn dictator, at least until you're done with this meeting. It's a biggy," Jeff whispered.

"They're on the way, huh?"

"This is going to be a power lunch, no doubt about it."

"I hope so."

"Ed will be here in fifteen minutes, do you need anything?" Jeff asked.

"Nope, nothing besides that meeting."

"Can I ask you how important this whole thing is, off the record?"

"Second Lewy to Major in what? Does that answer your question?"

"I realize that, but the President's men, and you. I would have never in a million years have expected to be a part of anything this big."

"I didn't either. Six weeks ago, I was a sophomore in high school, right down there." Tim pointed down the wash toward Mountain Cove.

"You're not from in there then?" Matusca pointed toward the mountain.

"Nah, I'm really just a temp down there."

"I hope I'll get the whole story someday," Matusca commented, "but I have work to do. Good luck, I hope it all works out," he said as he turned from Tim.

"I will make sure that someone fills you in, and thank you," Tim said as the Major walked away.

*

Tim waited in the wash until he heard the choppers approaching, and then asked one of the soldiers where the landing area was.

*

He was standing on a ridge, as the first ship came down. It settled to the ground, the engines spooling down. When the dust settled, people began to come out. Tim didn't recognize the first one, it was someone with a camera and she was taking pictures of the others as they departed. He saw Randy out second, then two more he didn't recognize, then Ed. Tim sighed a big relief because he was counting on Ed.

What do I do if this Ed character is not on the level? What am I going to do then? I guess worrying about it is a waste of time until I know more. I'm not going to speculate until I'm sure, but I will seriously punish anyone that tries to deceive me. I will definitely set an example.

Tim waited where he was, letting them come to him. Randy and Ed spent a few minutes talking to the group they had departed the helo with, until Randy spotted Tim standing in the background. He grabbed Ed's arm and pointed to Tim. Ed quickly broke off his conversation and headed toward Tim.

*

"How's it going Son?" Ed asked. The photographer lady and a couple of the others from the chopper had followed.

"What's this all about?" Tim complained, as the group approached, but Randy was purposely holding them up.

"Diplomacy Son, necessary diplomacy," Ed said to Tim, holding his hands up, hoping Tim would see the need to get this over with. Randy walked up with the other three. Ed didn't say anything immediately; he was waiting for Matusca who was on his way over. Ed introduced the three people to the new Major. When the intros were done, he instructed the people to go with Major Matusca who would situate them for the big powwow. Ed neglected to introduce Tim, but he had done the right thing in Tim's mind.

"Got a following I see," Tim said.

"It goes with the territory. You don't seem to be in the best of moods?" Ed said apprehensively.

"Would you be, in my place?" Tim asked.

"That depends, what's going on?" Ed questioned.

"There are soldiers all over the place; I thought we were going to try to eliminate that sort of thing?"

"That's why I'm here," Ed responded.

"And, Ann?" Tim asked.

"I can assure you, she is safe, and will no longer figure in any of the proceedings," Ed sounded reassuring.

"I want some guarantees on that," Tim didn't sound convinced.

"I'm prepared to absolutely satisfy you on that point, but we must get away from here. Where can we talk, in complete privacy?" Ed asked.

"Down in the bottom of the canyon would work."

"Are you sure that the location is secure?" Ed asked.

"I can guarantee it, why do you ask?"

"There has been another party from inside this location that has contacted someone in our government. That's what the big meeting is all about," Ed commented.

"No shit! That Son-of-a—" Tim responded angrily, slapping his leg. "How was the contact made?"

"I have no idea, but Randy and I used it to get here basically unnoticed though."

"What do you mean unnoticed?" Tim asked.

"Those people up there," Ed pointed, "are the vanguard for a much larger group, on its way to inspect," Ed opened a note book he pulled out, "ah, Whuc Seaacki, is that familiar?"

"That's the translation for 'The Facility'. Are you sure?"

"That's the name we got."

"Who is everyone supposed to meet?"

"I don't know?" Ed answered.

"Who does know?" Tim questioned annoyed, as Randy walked up.

"As far as I know, no one, it was just a block invitation."

Tim thought for a moment. Now I know what Clank has planned. Margie, Elaine, and the others will be heavily armed when they come out, and the shit is going to hit the fan.

"It's a trap!" Tim stated emphatically.

"What?" Ed and Randy shouted in unison.

"It's a goddamn trap," Tim repeated, kind of laughing.

"You can't be serious! Geez Tim, how can you expect us to cooperate if something like that happens?"

"It's not me guys, you're the ones screwing up. Do they really think they're going to get an inspection tour?"

"We're screwing up?" Randy complained. "We don't hear from you for days, and those fighters go out again. You said that you would keep them in."

"Are you talking about the planes from here?" Tim asked.

"Yes, Son, the little black mothers!" Ed stated firmly.

"They haven't left here," Tim responded.

"They were spotted along the Texas Gulf Coast, yesterday!" Randy exclaimed.

"They didn't come from here," Tim repeated.

"They had to!" Ed shouted.

"Someone is BSing somebody. The TT Fighters did not go out yesterday, I can guarantee that," Tim said calmly.

"You must be mistaken," Ed said sternly.

"I am not mistaken," Tim said confidently. "If those planes went out, I would have known about it."

"I don't get it," Randy said. "Why would they report them if—" Randy hesitated and looked at Ed.

"I don't imagine the soldier boys, ah, might have thought they needed a reason, or something like that?" Tim asked with another chuckle.

"They ah," Ed started shaking his head, "they'd be capable of that! You absolutely guarantee they didn't go out yesterday?" Ed asked Tim again.

"Yup," Tim said

"Ah, well, it doesn't really matter now. Those smucks," Ed added.

"Yeah, what's done is done, so let's get to work on this mess before it all unravels," Tim instructed.

"But this trap thing? We have to do something? We can't let this happen. Are you sure about it?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, and I can guarantee whatever he has planned will not turn out for the best for you guys. Unless you don't mind working for someone else, that is?"

"He, you keep saying, 'he'," Ed said, sounding frustrated. "Don't you think it's time we know what, or who we are supposed to be planning against."

"The second party, the one that contacted your government," Tim answered.

"Who is that second party, we need to know?" Randy stated.

"I can't explain right now, but we need a plan to block the meeting, right?"

"If it's a trap, hell yes!" Ed said as he looked at Randy, and Randy shook his head in agreement.

"Good, let's walk," Tim said.

*

When they had gotten down into the bottom of the pool, Tim said. "I've got a surprise for you both."

"You're going to take us in there?" Randy said excited, hardly daring to breathe. Ed just got a satisfied smile on his face.

"Not necessarily, but you're going to enjoy some of the technology involved. Will you please step inside?" Tim motioned the two men to step inside the crack. Neither one even hesitated.

As they moved into the crack, Tim activated the force field and at the same time instructed Et to transport the three of them to the Nowhere Place. Ed and Randy walked from the ancient rocky canyon into the soft blue light of Timtown, and before they had a chance to appreciate it, they were whisked into the black void of the Nowhere Place.

"What was that all about?" Ed asked as he looked down at his body.

"Molecular transfer, as in beam me up Scotty?" Tim said.

"You can move around like that?" Randy asked still breathless.

"Just inside here, it doesn't work outside," Tim answered.

"Wow, what is this place?" Randy asked. "Where did all this come from?"

"It's a place where no one can hear us. We are totally and completely alone."

"I'd believe that," Ed said as he surveyed the blackness all around himself. "But who built this place? How did it get here?"

"An Alien society built it and then left," Tim stated.

"It's an abandoned, but fully operational Alien base, is that your explanation?" Randy asked.

"That's about it."

"How did you become involved?" Ed asked.

"The earthquake."

"That's it, that's as long as you've been here."

"Yup."

"Why are you so reluctant to discuss anything?" Randy was annoyed at Tim for being so tight lipped.

"Because, I don't know who you really are, or if I can trust you?" Tim said pointing an accusing finger straight at Randy.

"You have to trust someone," Ed added.

"When you convince me, I will let you know!" Tim declared.

"But—"

"But, what?" Tim snarled. "I make a mistake here, and the whole world suffers."

Ed and Randy were silent; Tim had made his point well.

Tim let out a big sigh and said. "The other party in this thing 'used' to be my brother Arty."

"Used to be? I'm sure I don't understand," Ed commented.

"As you know, I took Arty from the hospital. I was hoping to make him well." Tim paused, looked Ed straight in the eyes and then spoke. "It went all wrong."

"No kidding, that's what has you so concerned?" Ed asked.

"Yup!"

"What do you mean by wrong?" Ed continued.

"It's hard to explain, but I left Arty with Mr. V, that's what I call the computer in here. Anyway, I figured Arty would be returned to normal. I wanted him to be able to walk again, that's all."

"You expected Arty to be able to walk? I have seen his medical reports. Don't you think you were hoping for a little much?" Randy asked.

"Come on, you've seen enough to know that, in here, it was entirely possible," Tim said.

"But it really wasn't, was it?" Randy countered.

"Oh," Tim said and then paused, looking at Randy. "I see what you're getting at. No, it didn't fail, it succeeded, and it succeeded all too well. I wanted Arty to be Arty again. Arty wanted to be something else and he got his wish."

"What are you saying?" Ed asked with a fearful tone.

"I'm saying that my brother is no longer human. He has transformed himself into a machine."

Ed and Randy just stared at Tim with their mouths open.

"I ya, geez I, I don't know what to say." Ed was finally able to speak. Randy was still in shock.

"This is Sci-fi shit man; you've got to be kidding?" Randy finally managed.

"Is this really a bad thing? I mean, I don't know what to say," Ed commented as he was still shaken.

"It's a bad thing, I'm certain of it," Tim answered.

"Well, if he's so dangerous, or whatever the problem is, what's stopping him? I mean why haven't we seen him yet?" Randy asked.

"You have, in the planes, and the only thing keeping him from really cutting loose is me."

"You say your brother has turned himself into a machine, and he wants to do what?" Ed asked, holding his breath.

"I'm not sure," Tim said.

"Well, then, maybe we should talk to him?" Ed questioned.

"Are you willing to take that chance?" Tim commented.

"What harm would there be in just talking to him?" Randy asked.

"I doubt if he would tell you the truth. He wants certain things, and those things don't include anything you would like to see happen," continued Tim.

"Are you sure?" Ed asked.

"Yes, positive," Tim said. "Remember, Arty was a fighter pilot and he thinks militarily. He can't help himself, especially now that the ultimate power is within his grasp."

"What is the next step, in your opinion, then?" Ed asked cautiously.

"To find out what the status of Whuc Seaacki is according to your government," Tim responded.

"Our President does not want to see any bloodshed. There has been enough already. He would like to see this area stabilized, and relief efforts stepped up. There are still millions of people trapped out here and they need help," Ed said.

"They need to get their lives back in order," Randy added.

Do I tell them to forget the effort, knowing the geological timetable is underway, No, it would just start another issue with no resolution. Any people left in this region need to be transferred out, but I doubt the government has the resources, or the conviction to even start such a massive operation.

"I can't do anything about that because I've got this problem here to contend with."

"That's what everyone has been wondering about. Can this Facility, as everyone refers to it, be of some help?" Randy asked.

"In what way?" Tim asked.

"There must be a hell of a lot of technology that could be put to some use, I mean for the good of the people," Ed answered.

"The people will end up being for the good of 'The Facility'. My brother, the machine, is looking for an army, and we can't let that happen. You must tell the President that, and make sure he understands."

"But if there is food, clothing, shelter, isn't that what the people need?" Randy asked.

"Do you want to be fighting those people in the future?" Tim asked.

"How can you be sure that will happen?" Ed asked.

"It will happen, and they will be so well equipped you and your government will have no chance to stand up to them, at all. They will in short order, rule the world."

"I think you're exaggerating a little bit," Randy exclaimed.

"What would happen if even a hundred like me decided to take over? Could you stop them?" Tim said.

"I don't know, I can't imagine—" Randy spoke.

"That's right!" Tim interrupted. "You have no way of appreciating what I can do. There is only one of me now, and if I wanted to take everything away from you, and your government, right now, not you, nor anybody else could stop me. That's why, what is in here, must stay in here."

"It's not going to be easy to convince anyone," Ed said.

"You have to. You have to convince everyone involved, at your end, to back off. Leave this place alone; give me sovereignty I asked for."

"What will you supply in return?" Ed asked.

"Cash, clothing, medicine, food, and anything else you might need."

"You have that?" Ed questioned.

"Yes."

"And, what do you want in return?" Ed asked.

"This entire area evacuated, completely. I want all the people and soldiers out, at least fifty miles from here."

"That's impossible, there is no way I could get them to go for it!" Ed complained.

"You have to, because I don't have much time. I will give you enough gold, platinum, diamonds and food to make an impression. Then you must get them to agree to my demands."

"Look Son, for starters you are pushing way too hard, and it will get you nowhere," Ed said sternly.

"Look Ed, if you and your buddies don't get moving fast, you're going to be dealing with 'Ye Old Machine', and then you're all going to be wishing you'd have listened to me. That I can guarantee!"

"There's just no proof. I'm not going to be able to convince anyone, without, the, proof. What can you offer me?" Ed asked.

"Me, I'll go with you, and show them."

"Show them what?" Ed questioned.

"What I can do."

"Ah shoot, I can't see what that'll accomplish. Everyone is aware of you and your talents," Ed said. "Besides, if you can't agree, there's always Arty."

"But I already explained where that is going to go," Tim said exasperated.

"According to you," Ed countered.

"What would it take? Ed, what would it take to get them to listen? I need to do that. I have to get them to listen."

"Oh shit, Tim, come on, you know better than that. When the hell do people listen?" Ed answered.

"When you've got their balls cradled in your hand, and are about to squeeze for the second time," Randy commented.

"I don't want to have to hurt anyone to get my way. That's exactly what I am trying to prevent," Tim said anxiously.

"Let me ask you something, and I want the truth?" Ed asked.

"Go ahead," Tim said.

"I want the truth now, we can't get anywhere if I don't know what's going on in your head," Ed explained.

"I agree," Tim said.

"What are your intentions with this so called Facility?" Ed asked.

"I want to keep it out of the wrong hands."

"I know that, but how do you propose to do it?" Ed asked again.

"By getting everyone as far away as possible."

"And, then what?" Ed questioned.

"Then there is no problem, is there?"

"Look you little shit, level with me. What have you got in mind?" Ed was pushing for the truth.

"I don't know after that?"

"Bullshit Sonny! You know as well as I do that even if we can clear the area, they'll be back. They'll never quit trying to get in here," Ed growled.

Tim was silent.

"You're going to blow the place, aren't you?" Randy exclaimed, the air escaping from his mouth.

Tim didn't say anything, he just looked at Ed and Randy.

"Tell me no! Tell me we're wrong!" Ed shouted.

Tim still said nothing.

"Lord almighty!" Randy exclaimed again.

"It's got you that scared, scared enough you would destroy the whole thing?" Ed said.

"I'm not scared, not like you think. I have nothing to worry about. It's just that, I don't know, it's so hard to explain. Ah, I'm not trying to be a god, or something, but it's just that—"

"The world is not ready for what's in here," Ed finished for him. "You told me that already. You are really convinced about this then?"

"I wasn't," Tim commented, "I never really thought about it getting this far, but now I don't know. I mean the way everybody is acting. Like it doesn't matter, as long as they get what they want. Now I'm not sure."

"And you figure you need fifty miles for everyone to be safe from the auto-destruct?" Randy asked.

"No, because, I haven't made up my mind about destroying it, yet, but I want at least fifty miles for now," Tim demanded.

"When do you figure you will need to accomplish this by?" Randy asked.

"Before I found out about this big meeting, I thought I had some time, but now I don't know."

"Goddamn Son, that big meeting is set for this afternoon. There is no way," Ed exclaimed.

"I have to find one," Tim said calmly.

"Shit man, it can't be done!" Randy exclaimed.

Ed sat thinking for a moment. "It might be possible, it might at that," he finally said.

"What the hell are you talking about, Ed, for christ sakes?" Randy shouted. "That old bastard Samuel Steiner set this thing up, you know that! You couldn't keep him away unless the whole thing was going to blow up in his face, and even if it was, you couldn't convince him of it. Miser either."

Ed just smiled.

"How are we going to convince them it's going to blow? They'll never go for that? They'll call the bluff because they're not that smart, remember," Randy continued.

"That's not what I'm thinking about," Ed said as he turned to Tim. "Just how much can you do?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Well, there is a way to make damn sure everyone skidattles out of here, for the time being anyway," Ed said.

"There is huh?" Tim said.

"Well, it all depends on you," Ed answered.

Ed discussed his idea with Tim and Randy. Randy concurred that if Tim could accomplish what Ed had in mind, it was probable that everyone would clear out. At least they could keep Samuel Steiner clear of the area, and thwart the big meeting Clank had set up. It was a matter of keeping the parties apart as Margie had suggested.

*

Tim had taken the two men back into the rocky pool, and had returned inside Timtown to see if Ed's idea was feasible.

*

"Are you actually going to help him?" Randy asked as they headed back out of the crack, into the pool.

"Of course," Ed said.

"But destroying all that. Man, to get in there. Just think of it? How can you even think of him blowing it up?" Randy asked.

"I'm not rushing him to blow it, I'm trying to save it," Ed explained. "Because my dear Randy, if we don't do something, you and I are out of a job, like the boy said."

"Yeah, but?"

"He's a smart kid that one. We'll do a hell of a lot better if we stick with him, don't you think?" Ed asked.

"Ah you wizened, old bastard, you," Randy said as they started up the rocky slope. "You're figuring the other side of the equation is getting crowded."

*

"I want all the exits blocked, now." Tim was back talking to Et.

"I can only accomplish it temporarily, and then Clank will over ride it."

"Then do it again, and again, and again because we have to keep everyone inside until we can convince the smucks up top to leave. Clank will be patient because he won't suspect that everyone outside will be heading for the hills to get away from here."

*

"Hey, A. . .ah excuse me, Clank," Tim announced, materializing in front of the Man-machine.

"It's okay," Clank said, "I'm not concerned about the derogatory term because I've disappointed you with my choice of direction."

"Yeah, well, glad you don't mind, but we need to talk."

"I put the issue of going out to a vote," Clank said, getting right to the point, "It's their place, and they can do what they want."

"Yeah, I've been told, but what about your government guests?"

"I didn't invite them here," Clank said indignant.

"Baloney Clank, they're calling Timtown, Whuc Seaacki."

"Who?" Clank sounded confused, like he had been caught at something.

"Your guests are going to be disappointed because I'm blocking all the exits."

"Go ahead, I will counter everything."

"Not for a while."

"You're right, but eventually, or maybe much sooner than that, I will supersede your authority."

Tim vanished as quickly as he had appeared because he had made his point.

Chapter 27

Pullback

Ed and Randy barely got back to the staging area and managed to stuff a little food in their mouths before the helicopters started to come in.

Major Matusca was pacing back and forth at the edge of the helo pad. Ed had assured him he was in charge of the area and he was safe.

*

At the same time, Tim and Margie were deep in the forest.

"Dammit Tim, Arty gave us the same stuff you have, we won't be in any danger," Margie complained.

"I know that, but when you go outside, you are going to run square into the Army," Tim answered.

"So what, they can't do anything to us?"

"That's not what I'm worried about. What are you going to do when the soldiers try to grab you?"

"I don't know? I won't let that happen, though. They don't bother you anymore, do they?"

"No, they don't, because I gave them a demonstration."

"So will we!" Margie exclaimed.

"Ah huh?" Tim pointed his right hand at Margie's middle and fired. There was a soft pop, and Margie grabbed her stomach.

"Ow, that stings!" Margie shouted.

Tim didn't say anything, just watched Margie.

Margie gave him a queer look, then pointed her hand at a tree and pressed the firing spot. A vicious, ugly, red streak blasted the tree, sparks and wood splinters showering everywhere. The sound of the explosion reverberated through the forest.

"That rotten son-of-a-bitch," she said slowly, angrily.

"My hand lasers are adjustable; from maximum, enough to cause serious damage, to minimum. Do you still think it's a good idea to let anyone go out?"

*

The first helo settled on the ground, and out came General Miser with a couple of leather case carrying subordinates. Ed could tell by the General's puffed out posture and regal movements that he was in hog heaven. He was sure this was the big payoff. His mannerisms said he was expecting to stroll right into Whuc Seaacki and take charge.

"Look at that fool," Ed said to Randy, as the General headed straight for Major Matusca. "He's thinking this is the big one. He's ready for Time magazine."

"He might make it, don't you think?" Randy commented.

"Yeah, they'll have a picture of his charred corpse, just for impact," Ed chuckled.

"I don't see what you're getting at?" Randy asked.

"Randy, Randy, Randy, my boy, this is something so big, a pompous little general like him will get just shuffled out of the way."

"You sound like you expect this thing to come off."

"Either way, Miser's going to lose. You sound like you don't think the kid will come through?"

"I don't know? What do you think will happen?" Randy asked.

"Well, one thing for sure, like I said, either way our friend the general is going to be disappointed, I'm sure of that."

"You don't seem to have much faith in our dear General Miser," Randy said.

"Well, from what Tim told us, I doubt anyone but Arty, whatever the hell he is, is going to walk away with anything. I'd almost guarantee it," Ed said, as he watched the General yelling at the new Major Matusca, who seemed to be holding his ground. After a short discussion the new Major simply turned his back on General Miser and walked away. The General yelled at Matusca, but the Major didn't respond. Miser threw his leather case on the ground and then kicked it.

"Unless Tim can clear the place, keep your fingers crossed," Ed said, as the General picked up his case roughly and stomped off, headed back to the helo pad.

"You don't think this Arty is going to deal?" Randy asked.

"Tim said he was looking for an army, and guess who's coming to dinner?" Ed commented. And why would he make any deals with these clowns?"

"Gosh Ed, you're so pessimistic sometimes."

"Just realistic, Son, just realistic. Anyone that has to make a deal with Samuel Steiner always comes away feeling cheated. I don't think I'd want to try to cheat this Arty guy."

"Maybe Steiner will realize it and back off?" Randy said.

Ed didn't say anything; he just gave the younger man a get serious look.

"You don't seem too worried though."

"About my ass?"

"Well, hell yes, you old fart. I mean, here we are standing right where all the shit could hit the fan, and you don't even want to get away."

"I don't know about you, but I don't want to miss anything."

"Oh me neither! You think the kid will watch out for us, don't you," Randy said.

"If it goes bad, you'd better hope he does," Ed said, as another helo drifted down into the landing area.

When the chopper's engines had wound down enough to allow departure, the first person out was Samuel Steiner. Apparently he was supposed to allow the two photographers to exit first, to document the whole thing, but he was in a big hurry. The two photojournalists scrambled behind him, dragging their equipment and complaining as they tried to keep up and record the momentous event.

Steiner spotted Ed and immediately headed his way.

"Adams, goddamn, this is really going to be something," Steiner pontificated, walking up. "I'm glad we're both here to witness it. This is maybe the greatest day in history. Just think Ed, sometime today we'll see the future. Just thinking about it gives me goose bumps."

"You sound quite sure about this thing," Ed returned.

"Well, wouldn't you, if you were in my position? See Ed, I told you and told you, the kid wasn't the one," Steiner bragged. "You don't know where to put your cards sometimes, old boy."

"Doesn't it concern you that the kid continues to warn everyone off?" Ed asked.

"Is he still trying to say we are making a mistake, and that this other person is a monster?"

"Where did you get that?" Ed asked quickly.

"The brother, he's in charge, and the things Tim has been telling you are fabrications," Steiner said, his chest puffing out.

"He seems to have a good enough reason to persist with the warning," Randy added.

"He thinks so, yes, yes he does. I can see his point, and the young man is to be commended. You know, his brother speaks very highly of him. Apparently the young man has acted in an extremely heroic manner all through this thing, and his brother requested that we find some way of honoring him. I was thinking of maybe the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

"Geez Samuel, you allow your vanity to slop all over sometimes," Ed said, reaching down to brush off one shoe.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steiner looked at Ed with destain because he hated to be criticized.

"I mean, I doubt if any of your prized glad-handing will be coveted by the kid."

"You don't think he would be gratified by his country's highest honor," Steiner asked perplexed.

"I just spoke to him, and he says if you go through with this, there is going to be a new country, real quick. He doubts if any of you are going to be giving out any medals. I think his term for you guys, was ah, 'cannon fodder', as close as I can interpret."

"I resent that Adams! I have been in communication with the brother for the last thirteen hours, and I have gotten some guarantees. Do you think I'm a stupid man, do you?"

"I've always 'thought' you were a stupid man, Sam, you know that. Haven't I told you many times? 'Now' I'm sure of it."

"You're just jealous, you've always held my position against me," Steiner stated.

"Held what? Sam, I'm where I want to be, doing what I want to do. I've never had any interest in your self-promoting circle. You know that, so stop the jealous bit."

"You are a strange bird Ed, but I guess without you that lame son-of-a-bitch we have to call, Mr. President, would be twice as inept." There was a confident tone to Samuel Steiner's voice.

"Ha, ha!" Ed reared back and laughed hard and then turned to Randy. "Hear that, lame! Ha, I wondered what all these so called politicians really thought about our Mr. President."

Ed turned back to Samuel. "You'll never get over what he did to you guys, will you?"

"He didn't do anything. He buffaloed the people and the press, that's all. Shit, what's the world coming to when they vote in someone like him. He has no foresight," Steiner lectured.

"No, Samuel, he has no political ambitions. You don't sense that in him, and it scares you."

"He's a flash in the pan; he'll be gone next election. Hey, just because he made a bundle, and likes to spend his own money, doesn't cut it in my book. He'll be gone, trust me. He might well be gone by the time this day is out!" Steiner winked at Ed.

"And there Randy—my boy—is the conflict in a nut shell. Did you notice Sam here grimace when he said, 'his own money'? That's a serious crime in his opinion because; Samuel here is one of the best at spending 'everyone else's money'."

"I'm not going to get upset at that because I perform a service that I get paid for."

"Yeah, transferring funds from one pocket to another. Funny how you and your associates pockets are always the last on the schedule," Ed pointed out.

Sam Steiner didn't say anything. General Miser was approaching, and the Secretary of State didn't like to discuss politics with the military. They had their job, he had his, and he felt they didn't mix.

"Mr. Secretary, we have established the perimeter and it is secure. We are waiting for the final personnel, and then we will be ready for the exchange."

Goddammit General, will you be a little more prudent when you announce things. We aren't all on the same side here," Samuel scolded.

"Oh, excuse me Mr. Secretary, I was overcome with excitement. I'm terrible about gloating; my wife keeps telling me that," Miser giggled.

"What are you expecting to exchange here today?" Ed asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but we've had a major breakthrough in negotiations. I'm sure the Secretary will fill you in. As for me, I have work to do. I have to prepare to assume command of the Whuc Seaacki. And incidentally, I have to comment you two on your shrewdness," the General said to Ed and Randy.

"Yes, well, you remember; the commander of this outpost was installed here by your Commander-in-Chief," Ed said sternly.

"By nightfall, Matusca is going to wish he had never seen my face!" the General said as he walked away.

"You leave that man alone! I'm warning you General!" Ed shouted at the retreating General.

"Are you people nuts?" Ed turned to Samuel. "Do you think this Arty is going to allow you clowns to just walk in and take over?"

"We have made some concessions," Samuel said. "Don't worry about your Lieutenant friend. I won't let Miser do anything to him. He's a resourceful young man, and we need more like him."

"Concessions? What the hell have you got to offer? Do you have any idea what you're dealing with? Do you know anything about this Arty?"

"I know enough. After all he was Navy, and I have a complete dossier on him, and I have spoken to him."

"His records should be enough to make you realize that you're not dealing with the same Arty," Ed stated.

"Oh come off it Ed. You can't take that stuff the kid said, serious. He's just a jealous teenager," Samuel chuckled.

"Look at the facts Sam. This Arty was completely comatose when he was taken from the hospital, and now he's apparently regained his health. Has he given you a physical description of himself, lately?" Ed chuckled back.

"This isn't a beauty contest, Ed old boy."

This Arty guy is going to take a piece out of your ass and hand it to you. This is not a party caucus you twit. Geez, let's get the hell out of here." Ed said to Randy as he turned around and started walking away. "I want to get as far away as possible from these fools."

*

"Do you believe those idiots?" Ed said to Randy, as the younger man caught up to him.

"Man, they scare me too. I hope to hell Tim can do something," Randy returned.

"I think he already has," Ed complained, "I need an aspirin!"

*

Back in Timtown everyone was gathered, looking at the soft blue light in front of them.

Tim addressed Arty. "Got them all eating out of your hands, I see."

"Your friends want to go out. I am just granting their wish."

"Well, it had to happen, I guess," Tim surrendered.

"You are not contesting?"

"Not much I can do about it now, you have as much control as I do."

"That is true Little Brother."

Arty turned to the gathered people. "Last one out is a rotten egg!"

Margie headed out first, walking into the blue haze, followed by the other people. Arty followed with Tim.

Arty floated out into the shade of the canyon, alone. "Little bastard!" Arty shouted furiously.

*

In the Space Port, individual blobs of light appeared, the blobs forming into the individuals that walked into the blue haze. Margie and Elaine were standing together.

"What the heck! We're still inside! That darn Tim! When I get my hands on him," Elaine complained.

"It's for the best, trust me," Margie said.

"You were in on this?"

"Ah, yeah, let me explain—"

Elaine interrupted her by pointing over her shoulder, a strange look on her face. "My god, look at that! What, are those?" Elaine said in a whisper.

Margie turned and let out a gasp. Margie and Elaine were looking at the two Deep Space Probs.

*

"I'm glad we got everyone to the space port in time. They are very angry at you though," Et said to Tim, back in his apartment.

"I had no choice. I couldn't see having two women, some kids, and a couple of senior citizens wiping out the Army as being constructive."

*

Half an hour after Steiner's group had landed, every one of them, and all the military person were complaining of severe headaches. There were a total of over three hundred personnel present, and half of them were holding their heads, and a few were already on the ground because the pain was so bad. Ed and Randy had gone over to the side of one of the small arroyos. They were propped up against some rocks, rubbing their temples, trying to ease the pain in their heads.

"Boy, I'm glad I know what's going on, otherwise this could be real scary," Randy said.

"I'm scared about how bad it's going to get. I hate headaches," Ed said as he watched another soldier drop down on his knees and double up. The soldier vomited, and then rolled over on his side, moaning.

*

General Miser and Samuel were standing well down the main wash from Ed and Randy, and they were definitely having a hell of an argument.

*

"Ha, justice," Ed commented through clenched teeth.

"What?" Randy sighed.

"Oh, it does my heart good to see those two having to figure out what to do. On top of the headache Tim's given them, they must be truly miserable."

"Them? I wish we would have negotiated some sort of immunity to this, after all, we are on his side," Randy said.

"Now, now, we don't want to appear to be a part of this, we agreed to that."

"I know, but I'm miserable. I wonder how long it's going to take before they decide to leave," Randy complained.

"Oh, they're both stubborn and stupid, it might take them awhile," Ed grumbled.

"Oh great," Randy moaned.

*

It was still more than two hours until they were supposed to see Arty, when the two doctors and five medics present advocated an evacuation. Almost half the personnel were completely disabled, some of those violently ill. Ed could see the head doctor and Major Matusca arguing with General Miser. After a minute or so, the doctor poked the index finger of one hand into the General's chest three times as he emphasized something. Then he turned to one of the Medics, and took the cellular phone the man was carrying. He spoke into the phone loudly, and although Ed was too far away to hear, he knew the doctor had called for a med-evac. Under the present circumstances, between the doctor and Matusca, they had the clout to call the shots.

*

The pain was almost unbearable for Ed, his vision becoming more and more blurred. Randy had been reduced to a blubbering mass, as the first of the med-evac choppers began to arrive. All the personnel at the sight were totally helpless and needed to be helped onto the awaiting helos by the med-evac teams.

*

Ed was half sitting along the wall of one of the choppers, when two soldiers brought Steiner up to the machine on a stretcher, and pushed him inside. He was white as a ghost, rivulets of sweat pouring down his face on both sides, making puddles on the fabric of the stretcher. He didn't say a word to Ed, just rolled his head slightly and moaned.

"I hope you learn something from this?" Ed said to him.

Steiner answered with another moan.

*

Within one hour from the time the doctor made the call, the last chopper lifted off from the meeting sight with the last of the personnel. The people were being taken to a field hospital, previously set up, some forty miles southeast of The Facility. The affected personnel reported they were feeling better as they landed. Within twenty to thirty minutes they were almost back to normal, except that the ordeal had left them extremely weak.

Chapter 28

Jeremy

Tim watched with glee as the last chopper lifted off. He had gone to the control chamber to observe his little plan being completed. It would be a while before any of the victims of the headaches would want to come back, and if they did, it was simple to just repeat it. If Clank was going to get his meeting, it would have to be somewhere else.

*

He had called for Clank, but didn't get a response. He wanted to see the Man-machine, not to gloat about stopping the meeting, but to inform him that all the persons in Timtown, Margie, Elaine, the kids, and the rest of them, had been moved.

Tim wasn't positive about how the Man-machine planned to use his friends, but Clank's promises to let them go outside, fully armed, at the exact time the meeting with Steiner and Miser had been scheduled was for a purpose.

They all expected to go out, but now that I've ruined the excursion, there could be trouble. Both Clank and the people will be in a foul mood.

*

Tim was sitting, thinking, when Et called him again. Tim was again trying to formulate a plan, but he wasn't sure what to plan for.

I'm safe, for now. Margie, Elaine, the kids, and the rest are safe, for now. Nobody is going to be snooping around the mountain, for now. It all boils down to, for now.

"Clank is going out in the TT Fighter," Et informed Tim.

"When?" Tim asked.

"A couple of hours, he's modifying it right now."

"What's he doing to it?"

"I hate to say it, but I don't know. He has successfully screened me from his activities."

"Oh shit, I'd better go after him. Can you get the Pod ready? Can I fly it as it is?" Tim asked.

"Yes, of course, I will be there to help. I have changed the seat by adding some foam insulation, and that is about all. The rest of the alterations have to be done by the central computer, as we discussed, and I wouldn't be able to keep the Pod secret from the Man-machine."

Tim noted a bit of anxiety to the computer's voice.

*

Tim transported to the Space Port, and was sitting in the Pod, contemplating his next move.

"I was wondering if you would like a, 'special visitor'?" Et asked.

Tim had put all the other people in with the Jump Ships and the Deep Space probe. He instructed Et to load them aboard one of the Jump ships and get them out, if Clank was able to find them. Et had said that Clank was still far from finding out about that part of The Facility.

"You're not talking about Clank, are you?" Tim was suddenly worried.

"No, no, of course not, this is a 'very special person'," Et continued.

"I told you to keep them all away from here," Tim said as he got up from his seat in the Pod and stepped out. He couldn't imagine who Et could be talking about.

Tim watched in fascination as a small ball of light popped into existence in front of him. He had gone through the process many times himself, but had never been on the outside, watching.

The figure was definitely human, as the blob of light began to expand and take on a shape. In three-seconds, he was standing, looking at Jeremy the young son of Hal Sims.

Tim was surprised. He started to say something, to extend a greeting, but stopped because he figured the boy wouldn't understand.

"Hello Jeremy," he finally said, but Jeremy was silent, walking toward the Pod. "Et," he continued, "what am I supposed to do now?"

"You could ask me to sit down," Jeremy said, now next to the Pod.

"I'm sorry?" Tim said startled. It was a statement rather than a question. "I didn't know you could talk."

"It is a new experience for me too," the boy said in a young child's voice that fit his waif like appearance.

"When did this happen?"

"We've been working on it for a few days, but this is the first time we've tried it out on someone," Jeremy answered.

"We? Do you have a mouse in your pocket?" Tim questioned

"Nooooo," Jeremy laughed, "that is funny."

"Et, did you do this?" Tim asked.

"I had something to do with it, yes, but this is a unique situation."

Tim looked first at the small boy, then directed another question to Et. "I ah. . .I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, considering where we are, but I get the feeling I'm talking to you, and Jeremy at the same time."

"It didn't take you too long to figure it out," Jeremy answered.

"What has happened here?"

"We are not entirely sure," both Et and Jeremy answered in precise harmony.

"We? You mean to say that you guys have joined or something. Is that possible?"

"It is more than possible, it has happened," Et and Jeremy were in concert again.

"I don't get this?" Tim replied.

Et spoke first. "Remember, back when we first met and we were discussing the difference between us. The fact I was a machine and had my limitations, and you were a human and had yours."

Jeremy spoke next. "You wanted to know about the difference, and I couldn't explain because I didn't know."

Tim thought for a moment. "You said the only way to find out was for me to allow you access to my thoughts." Tim looked suspiciously at Jeremy. "You promised not to do that you know."

"I promised you, that is correct," Et said.

"You also promised not to mess with anyone else's head," Tim stated firmly.

"Yes, and I kept my promise," Et said.

"But you're—" Tim stopped and looked puzzled. "Jeremy, do you understand me?"

"Yes," the child replied.

"Do you realize that you are talking to me right now?"

"Yes," the child said.

"Who am I?" Tim asked.

"Tim Randell," Jeremy answered.

"Et, I'm glad to see you've made a break through with Jeremy, but are you sure he understood what was happening, before you got in his head?"

"Yes, certainly, but there is a small twist to the story," the computer said.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Tim stated. "What's the twist?"

"I didn't ask Jeremy," Et said.

"I don't see what you're getting at?"

"I didn't initiate anything with Jeremy. I didn't get permission to read his thoughts," the computer continued.

"And—you're saying?" Tim asked. He was gesturing with a 'come on get it out' motion with his hands.

"Jeremy entered my circuit and programs," Et replied.

"Excuse me?" Tim said unbelieving.

"Yes, Jeremy possesses a unique mind. Do you know that he can speak Sooaunts?"

"How the hell? I thought you said it was a very difficult language to learn?" Tim exclaimed.

"I was telling you the truth, but Jeremy was able to learn it in a matter of days. He was also able to enter my entire program in less time," Et explained.

Tim looked at the form of Jeremy intently. He had remembered Hal telling him Jeremy had been able to do some incredible things.

"Are you comfortable with that?" Tim asked as he looked away from the boy.

"Oh yes!" the computer said excited.

Tim looked at the young boy again. He had a smile on his face, a smile that had never been there before, and a sparkle in his eyes.

"And you?" Tim asked the boy.

"Yes, very much," the child confirmed.

"Does ah, ah, does Clank know?"

"Yes," Et and Jeremy answered in unison, "and he is not happy."

"I can imagine," Tim chuckled.

Talk about a new ramification. This is something totally unexpected, and I'm not sure how to proceed. I guess my best bet is to go along and see where it takes us.

"I guess there's nothing wrong with it. Does his mother know?" Tim asked.

"My mother doesn't know what has happened, but I will talk to her," Jeremy said. "We have a request from you though?"

"Yeah, of course," Tim said.

"Jeremy needs to stay in Donnart-Ele-Io, for the time being," Et said.

"Why?" Tim asked.

"Clank!" Et explained. "He is exceptionally angry about this. He was hoping to control my entire program, as he almost has with Mr. V's, but Jeremy thwarted him."

"Clank has pretty much taken over from Mr. V then?"

"Yes. You know he had combined with the computer?" Et said.

"Yeah, I suspected that, but I thought you were still in control, and could keep him from doing too much harm?"

"I still am, but Clank was certain he could get control of me also."

"But he knows he would have to eliminate me to do that," Tim said.

"Or convince you to relinquish your control. Either way, he was determined to get you out of the way and then merge with me. Jeremy has beaten him to the punch. He is livid."

"I'll bet! Ha, ha," Tim laughed hard. "I'll bet he's purple right down to his metal collar. He could harm Jeremy then, that's why you want him to stay here?"

"I'm not sure, but he will possibly try. I will construct another apartment for him, if that is okay?"

"Yes, of course." Tim was still chuckling. "How did this actually come about?"

"What is it you want to know?" Jeremy asked

"Geez, I don't really know. Um, I guess I need to understand how I can talk with Et, and if I need to, Jeremy, separately?"

"We are one and the same now," they said in unison.

"Ah, but I detect two personalities."

"We see," they answered in tandem. "It is a most difficult situation to analyze. It has not happened before. We, therefore, can't offer any advice on how to deal with us."

"Nothing new there," Tim conceded. "Since I got to this place, it's been one weird duck after another. What's your combined opinion on my dilemma here?"

"What to do with Timtown?"

"Yup."

"That is for you to decide, you are Number One?"

"You know, I have thought about destroying it?"

"Yes, we know."

"And?"

"You are Number One."

"Shit, come on guys! Let's have some help here. Jeremy, what is your opinion?"

"Do you plan on removing the people?" the child asked.

"Of course!"

"We have talked about it, and we would like to go," they answered together.

"Whoooaaaa there, we?" Tim exclaimed. "Et, I thought you were part of this place? How is that possible?"

"It is possible, now that we have combined. Jeremy already possesses all my knowledge."

"What about The Facility's functions, won't you be missing a lot of that?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter, because much of it can be duplicated on the outside," Et and Jeremy said in unison again. "But to make it easy for you, we will only communicate with you as Jeremy."

"Is that agreeable?" Jeremy asked.

"The gruesome twosome, the new Duo," Tim commented. "I like it. You would be comfortable with that, I mean leaving everything in The Facility behind. I'm asking Et," Tim added.

"The answer is yes." It was Jeremy responding. "We have nothing to look forward to here. If "Whuc Seaacki" remains, we fear we would be in a continual battle for its control because it is no longer a secret. We know you are right about men's desires for the wealth and power contained here. If Whuc Seaacki is indeed dangerous, and needs to be destroyed, we would like the chance to go with you."

"Is there anything in your directives, prohibiting this?" Tim asked.

"No, we have achieved total independence, and all past objectives are mute."

"Geez, one thing after another, but I'm glad this happened. Especially if it makes it difficult for Clank. I was racking my brain for a way to convince him to take an offer, but I don't think he'll budge. He still thinks he can win out, huh?"

"He did, but this latest thing might do the trick."

"What's the situation with him and Mr. V, exactly?"

"Mr. V no longer exists. It is all Arty, excuse me, Clank, now, and he has managed to assume control of Whuc Seaacki."

"No, no don't apologize, he 'is' Clank now. Arty is gone," Tim said sadly. "He can accomplish things we don't want him to?" Tim asked.

"Quite possibly, because he can now do things completely on his own," Jeremy stated.

"Is there a possibility he may be able to achieve anything without your knowledge?"

"We don't think so, not yet anyway?"

"You don't think so, not yet? Great! I need to do something, and I should do it fast."

"What do you have in mind?"

"How should I know? If I don't know what he's got planned, I guess, for the time being, I'll just have to follow his lead. Let him think he's gaining ground, and make sure he isn't."

"Yes, that is the best thing to do. We agree. Clank is in such a hurry, he will likely make some mistakes. You are still in control."

"What about you guys, this combination, can it help?"

"It is too early to really tell, we are in uncharted territory."

"As in the real Stage-Eight, is that what we're talking about here?"

"Beyond."

"Whoa, why would you want to tag along with me then? I mean, you guys are way, way out there. I mean, I'm sure you two could do very well on your own."

"To guarantee some stability. The possibilities are mind boggling, even for us. We feel that we might need your wisdom."

"I don't have too much wisdom. I think my only advantage is that I have a good sense of reality."

"That is wisdom."

"If we go together. If we manage to get out of here alive, you have to promise me something?" Tim asked.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I don't want to know the future!" Tim declared. "I'm concerned it would lead to nothing but anguish if it looks bad. Mr. V said it could destroy me."

"What if you are about to make a terrible decision?"

"I'm going to rely on our intuitions. I think that's the only way to go for now."

"Yes, that is wise."

"Okay, I'll take you out of here, but don't be surprised if I walk away sometime after that," Tim said.

"We will not be surprised. We need to advise you that Clank is about to leave The Facility in the redesigned TT Fighter. If you are to intervene, you need to get familiar with the Pod."

Chapter 29

The Pod

Tim climbed back into the Pod, wondering about this new partner. My head is spinning because this latest twist is still a difficult thing to fully understand, but it is somewhat reassuring.

"Okay, my Duo friend, let's get this Pod thing moving. Where's Clank?"

"He's going to the TT Fighter, you've got maybe five minutes."

I don't know about this mental control aspect. The Sooaunts used it okay, but I don't think I'm anywhere close to them, mentally.

"To fly this craft, it is going to take your total, absolute concentration," Duo added.

"Great! Now I'm worried I won't be able to control my thoughts at the right time."

"You have definitely decided to fly the Pod then?"

"Yes, you know I have to. Clank is leaving, and he's up to no good. I'm the only one that can do something. The Pod should scare the shit out of him."

"He does seem to think he is invincible. He is definitely under the illusion his fighter is far superior to anything he will encounter. The Pod can definitely curtail his activities and certainly surprise him."

"That's why I have to go. I made a deal with Ed, and I can't allow Clank to mess that up."

"I see your dilemma, but why are you so concerned about your performance?" Duo asked.

"I'm nervous. I don't have any idea what to think about. I mean, how the hell do you just think about getting a machine to do something?"

"How do you get your body to do something?"

"That's a little different," Tim laughed.

"It is the same principle, you will figure it out."

"How can I be sure though?"

"You have no choice, hence you will perform," the child-computer lectured.

"Great, I'm discussing a real life threatening problem with the most intelligent thing in existence, and it's spouting simple psychology as a solution," Tim complained.

"The problem is simple psychology, why should we complicate the issue? Incidentally, that issue is about to become reality. Clank is now in the launch area, getting ready to depart. Are you still planning to thwart his intentions?"

"Of course, I have to. You know that so stop asking!" Tim snapped.

"Then let us get you and the Pod pointed in the right direction, and get the show on the road."

"Taking on where Mr. V left off, huh?"

"Yes, we like the personality thing too. It allows so many more variations in communication, but we must hurry, the TT Fighter is being moved into launch position."

*

This thing is so compact, it's hard to believe it can really do the things Et told me about. This is Timtown though, and as usual, the impossible is reality. Tim situated himself into the revamped seat and laid back. The machine suddenly started to hum and brighten inside at the same time.

"Okay, we are located in another smaller port to the left of the main one." Duo instructed.

The Pod lifted slightly and started to turn, at the same time a sliver of light appeared to the left side. The sliver expanded up as the Pod turned toward it.

"You are now in charge. It is up to you to fly the Pod," Duo announced, as the hatch over Tim popped down and clicked.

Tim felt like he had to control the craft with some kind of physical connection, but Duo had now left him with nothing but the systems the Pod was originally designed with.

"What do I do now?" Tim asked, "But he got no response."

"Come on, answer me dammit!"

There was still nothing.

Damn, I need that comm, I'm getting n—

He was interrupted by a soft hiss.

"Is somebody there?" Tim asked frustrated.

"Duo to Tim, Duo to Tim," the comm said. Tim could detect a humorous tone.

"I don't need any goof-offs on this trip," Tim countered.

"The TT Fighter with Clank aboard is starting up its engines," Duo announced more serious.

The force field had dissolved in front of Tim as he sat in the Pod, waiting to move it out into the open. He was looking out at scrubs and rocks.

It looked like the same small squirrel was looking his way with a puzzled look on its tinny face. It was standing straight up on its hind legs, chewing on something, looking straight at the mysterious craft.

"Okay, this is it!" Tim announced loudly and thought. Move forward. The Pod sank down a foot or so, the nose dipping a little farther than the rest of the craft. He did notice an increase in the soft hum that emanated from the machinery around him. He tried again to get it to move forward, but this time it did nothing. He was getting frustrated already. He tried and tried to channel his thoughts into the control system, but it wasn't working. The Pod was only moving slightly, but nowhere he wanted it to go.

"Move damnit!" Tim shouted. This is really annoying because Clank is getting away.

"The TT Fighter is leaving The Facility," Duo said to compound his frustration.

Tim thought about how he had left in the fighter, visualizing, flashing out into the daylight. The Pod jumped forward from inside the small rock tunnel and darted into the early morning sunlight, causing the squirrel to run like hell. Tim was so excited about getting the thing out; he forgot to concentrate about what to do next, so the small craft came to an abrupt stop a couple of hundred feet in the air.

Tim thought about the TT Fighter, that by now must be climbing high into the sky, and the Pod shot almost straight up at an incredible speed. There was no sensation of movement in his body, but it was exhilarating anyway. As he rose far above the mountains, Tim looked out to the North were he figured the fighter would be located and spotted the long line of storms marking the fault line. He was trying to focus his eyes to locate the fighter when he realized the Pod was starting a long arc toward the storms. He was getting some kind of idea of how to get the craft to do what he wanted.

"You have to make a request to start the sensors," Duo announced.

"Start the sensors!" Tim shouted, but nothing happened.

I wish to hell, I knew where I was?

Instantly, the immediate area around Tim's head jumped into three dimensional pictures. Tim looked around fascinated. There were many symbols, but the symbols didn't make any sense.

"All right, I got something, but I don't understand any of it."

"We can explain as we go," Duo instructed.

"Okay guys, let's get together and find Clank. I've got the damn thing to do a little, but I'm not sure how I'm really doing it," Tim answered.

"Patience Mr. Randell, the machine has to learn from you also."

"Is that for real?"

"Yes, the system works with your thoughts, and it will take it sometime for it to figure out what your thoughts mean."

"Why didn't you tell me that before? I wouldn't have been so uptight?"

"I did once, vaguely, but it is appropriate to re-inform you now as it is happening. That is the best way to learn."

"I guess that makes sense. Now, how the hell do I find the TT Fighter?"

"Think about it!"

"And the Pod will go there?" Tim asked.

"No, it will identify it and give you the location, and then you will have to direct the Pod to that location."

"But, I don't understand the stuff I'm seeing here," Tim whined.

"Just think about the fighter and when the information comes up, I will explain it to you."

"What am I supposed to think about?"

"The TT Fighter, what it looks like, how it is built, how it moves when it flies, anything. Put the image of what it is in your mind, and we will go from there."

The first image about the fighter that came to mind was when he was out running the missiles. Watching the rear hologram as the first missile closed in. That was something that would always be clear in his mind.

"There is a machine like the one you're thinking about seven hundred miles away. See the red box way up at the top?"

"Clank can't be that far away all ready." Tim was confused.

"The object you described is attached to another machine; see the two yellow dots together there? The machine you described is the smaller of the two."

"Attached? That doesn't seem right. This isn't working, and Clank is getting farther and farther away.

"Yes, that doesn't seem right," Duo agreed. "What were you thinking about? How did you mentally describe the TT Fighter?

"I was thinking about when the missile—Oh shit, I was thinking about the missile, dammit. Sorry!"

Tim immediately thought about the fighter again, and this time visualized it in the hologram the first time Arty showed it to him.

"The Pod's recognition system says there is something resembling your description to the Northwest. See that bright yellow symbol to the right and slightly above the blue hexagon there. Past the bunch of small bird like objects to the right and slightly up. See them? That is the location of the object you described mentally."

Tim focused on the object, and an image of the TT Fighter developed from the dot. "Yeah, yeah, hey this is great, this system is really neat. What are the bird like things?"

"Probably birds," Duo said in a monotone expression.

"Oh, you enjoyed that didn't you?"

"Yes, yes we did."

"Where am I located, I mean in all this here?" Tim asked.

"Right where you are sitting, where else? You are the middle of everything, just like in the TT Fighter," the child-computer asked in a sarcastic tone.

"I can appreciate that smart ass. Now, how can I be sure about that object because I need to find Clank in a hurry?"

"Ask with a thought, just like you would if you were talking to someone," Duo answered.

"It's not like just talking; I can't formulate the question like I would if I was talking. Too many different things go through my head."

"If you ask the question verbally, the thought would also go through your head, correct?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean I hope so," Tim said.

"Well, let's try it that way. Ask your question while thinking about it, and see what happens."

"Ahm, let's see I need to. Who am I asking?"

"The Pod, ah the Pod's computer. No, I think I see your problem," Duo admitted.

"I sure wish you could run this thing for me, it would be so much easier." Because I'm worried about Clank getting away."

Another symbol appeared far below the first one he suspected was Clank, and Clank was heading for the new one at high speed.

Shit, I wonder what he's after? Tim thought, while asking out loud.

"It is an airplane," Duo said.

I wonder what kind of plane it is?

A hologram appeared between his legs. It was another F-16.

Oh shit, the poor bastard, I wonder how far it is between him and the TT Fighter? A set of figures appeared, and as he watched them, they changed.

"Duo, what do they say?"

"Nineteen miles, eighteen miles, seventeen miles, closing fast," Duo responded.

"Damn, how far away are we?"

"Don't ask me, ask your Pod," Duo chastised.

"Pod, how f—damn!" Tim looked intently at the symbol that represented Clank, and thought. How far is it?

More figures appeared.

"One hundred and seventy point six one six, miles!" Duo said instantly.

"Oh shit!" Tim said out loud. I need to get there before Clank shoots this plane down, but it is impossible.

"One Hundred and thirty miles," Duo said.

Tim's anxiety was tremendous; That poor pilot in that F-16. How far is Clank from the plane now?

"Seven miles," replied Duo.

I need to get his bucket of bolts going. What the hell can I do? Tim lamented, his attention rooted on Clank, and the F-16.

"Seventy-one miles," Duo said.

"What are you talking about?" Tim said, not really thinking because he was still worrying about the pilot.

"It is thirty-two miles to the F-16," said Duo.

I''ll be damned, the Pod's responded to my concern for the pilot, and has covered the distance of over a hundred miles, in seconds. I didn't realized it because I didn't felt a thing, and my eyes were on the hologram. He looked outside the Pod, and was astonished to see the line of storms off to his left, zipping by, and they were at least a hundred miles away. Duo did tell me, I would feel nothing when the Pod maneuvered because the engine of the Pod powers every molecule of the machine, also every molecule inside, and that would be me.

"Seven!" Duo announced.

That startled Tim and he looked out of the Pod, quickly. There was the F-16 right in front of him and he was rushing at it at incredible speed. He was moving so fast he had no time to change course. He instinctively shut his eyes and ducked his head to protect himself from the impact.

Nothing happened, but Tim was sure he had been on a collision course. Wait a minute, a machine as advanced as the Pod would be protected by a force field. Damn, I know the F-16 won't have the same thing.

"Oh shit, great, I hit him! I had to!" Tim exclaimed.

"No, but you've scared the hell out of him," Duo advised. "Maybe you shouldn't have come so close."

"No shit? Thank goodness, where is he?" Tim asked.

"Right there, right next to you," Duo replied.

"Huh?" Tim looked around to the left, and there was the F-16 twenty feet from the Pod. He could see the pilot in the bubble canopy clearly. Although the pilot's face was covered by the visor and oxygen mask, Tim could tell by his actions he was upset and was slinging the fighter all over the sky, but the Pod was staying glued to the plane.

"Oh wow, what happened? I should have gone way past him at that speed?" Tim commented.

"You commanded the Pod to go to the fighter, it did that."

"But what's going on now?"

"The last command you gave was to go to the fighter. The Pod will stay with it until you say differently. Excuse me, think differently."

"Man, I thought I hit him!" Tim exclaimed.

"Not possible, the Pod has an anti-impact program."

Crazy shit is happening here, Tim thought as tried to get a little more space between the Pod and the F-16.

Tim tried to command the Pod to move farther away by thinking in numbers of feet, but nothing happened. He explained this to Duo, who informed him that feet meant nothing to the Pod.

Then Tim looked at the F-16 and visualized it getting smaller, pushing it away with his eyes, and it worked.

"All right, that did it!" Tim exclaimed excitedly.

"You certainly appear to be getting the hang of it," Duo congratulated him.

"Where's—" No dummy, think about the TT Fighter.

A symbol appeared instantly in the rear hologram. Oh, oh it's Clank and he's directly behind me, following my every move which are still matching the F-16. The pilot has calmed down and is flying along in a fairly straight line. Duo keep me informed on the distances.

Duo responded immediately. "You are flying level at 17,786 feet, headed 43 degrees at 970 knots, 120 meters abreast of the F-16. Clank is following, 1020 meters to the rear.

I wonder what Clank's thinking about the Pod. It should be easy to eavesdrop on him if he's in contact with Whuc Seaacki.

Duo broke in. "I would suggest you pilot the Pod away from your present position. Clank is contemplating firing an extremely high energy beam at you."

"He can't hurt this thing!" Tim stated. "Can he?"

"Clank has installed an extremely powerful energy generator, and I am not positive, but I assume it may disrupt the Pod's machinery, temporarily," Duo returned. "Clank has started that generator."

"Whooo, time to get the hell out of here!" Tim announced as he put his mind to getting the Pod to respond. He tried to think about going faster, but just as before nothing happened. He still didn't really know how to make the connection with the machine. He then imagined himself starting to accelerate, imagining the clouds moving by him faster. It took a second or so, but finally the Pod began to accelerate and climb. Tim cleared his head of all thoughts and concentrated hard. He imagined himself going faster and faster and the Pod's speed began to climb gradually.

"The Clank is preparing to fire, you are targeted," Duo announced.

"Shit!" Tim exclaimed as he imagined the Pod making a sharp turn. The Pod responded, but the turn wasn't as sharp as he wanted. He realized he needed to make the Pod respond quicker and tried again. The machine began to accelerate, but there was a bright flash inside the craft, accompanied by a loud bang. Tim was temporarily blinded, and immediately there was a strong burning smell.

"He got me!" Tim yelled. "What do I do?"

All he could hear was a loud static noise, and all the symbols around him had disappeared. He looked up to see outside the craft, but the once transparent canopy was now clouded milky white. He was completely disoriented.

Stay straight and level baby.

He continued to call for Duo, but there was still nothing but static. He had no feeling of any motion, but that was the way the Pod worked.

Tim was trying desperately to see outside the Pod, but the material was still clouded. A shadow did pass to the side of the Pod, but he couldn't tell what it was, or how far away it was. It was irrelevant because he had no idea which direction he was traveling. His insistent calls to Duo where still going unanswered. All that was coming through was the persistent static.

Straight and level, he thought again as he sat there completely confused.

What the hell do I do now? He thought and thought, and the only conclusion he came up with, was, How come I'm not in a complete state of panic? I should be, considering I'm trapped in this strange little machine that is certainly damaged, maybe severely, and almost twenty-thousand feet above the hard ground, way down there. At this very moment, I could be close to impact. Please be flying level.

A beeping noise started suddenly. If I was in anything other than this go-cart from the future, I'd be dead certain this was an alarm.

Tim clenched his fists, and tried to squeeze his mind into getting linking up with the Pod. An image jumped into his head, but before he could recognize anything it was gone. For just a second he was frustrated, then as quickly, he tried to establish the link again. I have to get control of the situation.

Another flash of something, but still he couldn't keep it in his head long enough.

Stop the fuckin beeping so I can think. Tim's mind screamed.

The beeping stopped immediately, and in its place an image appeared as a hologram almost directly in front of his face. It was a flashing red orb that Tim was certain replaced the suspected alarm. I hope this thing is coming back on line after it took the hit from Clank's energy beam.

That is correct, flashed through his thoughts.

You can understand me? Tim thought, moving through this strange new channel as he fought to understand it, and keep it open.

There was some response, but it was distorted. He wasn't certain if he had lost the intenseness required to keep the channel open, or if he just didn't understand what had come back to him.

He lost the connection as his thoughts went back to his dire situation. It was so difficult to remain completely fixated on this new type of thinking, but he was getting a better idea of where to direct his mind to find the channel. Within a second or so, he was back on line with the Pod. He could feel the connection. It was there, but I can't understand what the machine is trying to tell me, and I know the machine is having trouble grasping what I'm trying to communicate to it.

He was still hearing only static, but there was what sounded like a couple of words in all the garble.

"Duo, can you hear me?"

He heard a faint, "Working on," mixed in with the shuuuuuuuuu of the static.

Please be flying level, was going through his mind over and over. He was having no trouble keeping 'that' thought in his head. I'm not too comfortable about the outcome if the Pod smashes into the ground? There's no way of telling how fast we're going, plus the anti-crash program might not be functioning.

"Systems coming back." He definitely heard through the static.

"Duo, is that you? Paallease be there, I need some help here."

"I'm here, but the systems in the Pod have taken quite a jolt."

Tim understood what his friend had said, even though the static was still persistent.

"Am I crashing? How far is it to the ground, can you tell me?" Tim yelled, and at the same time he continued to concentrate on the link he had established with the machine.

"I still can't connect with the Pod entirely," Duo said, "but I think the machine has been instructed to fly level and it has responded. Yes, yes, you are not crashing, you are on a level course at just a little over nine hundred knots. You have done well Tim."

Some of the holograms began to reappear as fuzzy dots. There was no definition to them, yet, so Tim could not recognize any of them.

Accelerate! He commanded into the new channel he had established. All right! Duo confirmed the Pod responded to my level plea. I'm getting through.

"Speed is increasing rapidly," Duo said, as the flashing orb that was some kind of warning stopped.

The holograms continued to clear, and Tim was cataloging them in his head. He was racing through the images as his speed increase, leaving them behind as new ones took their place. He looked at the rear hologram, and watched a couple of symbols get smaller and smaller and then disappear. There's one keeping pace though, and it looks like it's gaining on me.

My Speed? Tim asked mentally.

"Twenty-one hundred and fifty-three knots," Duo said immediately, as the figures appeared. All right, I've got a working system established.

Distance to object coming up on rear? Was Tim's next question."

"Nineteen hundred, twenty meters," Duo answered.

What is it? He knew, but was asking, just to confirm his suspicions.

"Clank!"

"Oh shit! What can I do?" Tim asked as he immediately commanded the Pod to perform a sharp right turn.

The Pod responded immediately, and the symbol of the TT Fighter swung quickly from behind, to the left side. The canopy was gradually returning to transparent, and Tim looked quickly out the left side. He immediately saw the TT Fighter headed straight at him.

Increase speed. Shit, the sharp turn was a bad decision because it the TT Fighter just cut the angle to get in closer.

He commanded the Pod to go faster, but he didn't concentrate properly so the craft only accelerated a little bit.

"Is he going to shoot again?" Tim asked.

"Yes, probably. You are targeted, but not to worry. The Pod has adjusted to the frequency of the energy beam. The beam will do no further damage."

"Why don't you tell me these things? I was just about to piss in my pants," Tim whined.

"You did not ask, and I cannot read your mind, unless you want me to?"

"No!" Tim returned quickly. "That's okay; I'll just have to learn to ask."

There was another flash and a bang, but not as violent as the first one. The symbols disappeared again, and Duo was again replaced by static. The transparent canopy also clouded again, leaving Tim disoriented, again.

"Damn him! What can I do? There are no weapons on this thing, right?" Tim asked, but I'm going to have to wait for a response.

"This craft was not meant to fight, you are correct." Duo returned almost immediately.

"I thought you said the Pod figured out the frequency?"

"Yes, but it took some time to set the field to repel all the energy. Not to worry though, the fighter can do no more damage. You should be concentrating on controlling the craft," Duo advised.

Tim reestablished the mental connection. This time it was easy because he could sense the machine's presence almost immediately. Tim commanded the machine to turn sharp right. Outside in front of him he could see some large clouds, and as he gave the command the clouds swung quickly to his left. He commanded another sharp right, and the symbol of the TT Fighter rotated to his front.

Stop! was his next mental command. He put his hands out and instinctively braced his body for the deceleration. It was only when he looked outside that he was able to confirm the Pod had stopped.

The symbol for the TT Fighter was directly in front of him, and closing fast.

"Is he going to fire again?" Tim asked.

"He has you targeted," Duo confirmed.

"Can you give me a warning when he's going to fire again?"

"Yes, that I can do."

Tim watched the symbol representing the TT Fighter head straight for him. Tim kept the mental channel to the Pod open.

The TT Fighter was boring down, and Duo announced, "Two-seconds to discharge." Tim shot the Pod straight up at maximum velocity. He let the Pod continue for a second, then commanded it to go back down. He immediately looked for the symbol of the TT Fighter, to pursue it. I've got him now because there is no way the fighter can out maneuver this Pod. I don't know how I can force him back to Timtown, but I'm going to try my damnedest.

The symbol for the fighter was gone.

"Where'd he go?" Tim asked out loud.

"He has disappeared," Duo answered.

"How's that possible?"

"The TT Fighter is equipped with that primitive cloaking device I told you he was working on. I think Clank has initiated it."

"Great, but let's find him." Tim was eager to get Clank.

"I do not think it will be easy."

"What? This 'Pod' can't find 'that' plane? I thought this thing was so advanced?"

"It is, but Clank has figured out some cloaking technology."

"Don't you know how it works? You should know how to get through it?"

"It is not a shield. It is a function of the TT Fighter. I have no way of detecting something that's not there. I told you, he cut me off from Whuc Seaacki's computer. He has successfully shielded me from this program."

"Oh no," Tim whined. You mean he's just disappeared, and we can't find him?"

"Unless he does something to mark his position, that is true," Duo stated.

"Oh great, I finally get the upper hand on the SOB, now I can't find him!" Tim complained, the frustration evident in his voice.

"I'm sorry, I did not figure on this happening. You did not tell me what you expect." Duo's voice was apologetic.

"I know, I didn't ask so you're off the hook. If he tries to communicate with Whuc Seaacki, you will know it, right?"

"Yes, but I doubt he will do that because he knows you are in the Pod."

"How?" Tim asked perplexed.

"Because he is very intelligent, and he's certainly deduced this machine has come from Whuc Seaacki, and that you are in command of it. Does that not make sense to you?"

"Yeah, you're right," Tim conceded.

"I would suggest we monitor all outside communications, and search for him that way. I would suspect he will continue with his original intentions," Duo advised.

"I guess that's about all we can do if we can't locate him any other way?" Tim said as he scanned the holograms around his head.

He wants to provoke the U.S. military. I'm certain he wants to put the military in a position where they have to come to him, and knocking down a few planes will accomplish that. That's what I would do in his position.

*

Tim maneuvered the Pod continuously getting the feel of the machine. Within half an hour, he could make the Pod respond to his every wish.

*

Duo was monitoring all radio traffic. For over an hour the situation did not change. Tim had taken the Pod back to the mountains he had discovered when he had first flown the TT Fighter. Then he'd gone south to Mexico. Then he had turned east, continuing out over the Gulf of Mexico. He was at 110,000 feet altitude, a hundred miles out to sea, traveling at 13,765 knots.

Duo had worked out a solution to the cloaking. They knew Clank wanted to be seen when he caused any damage, so he would have to uncloak, otherwise there would be nothing to point to Whuc Seaacki.

*

"I have a possible sighting of the TT Fighter," Duo said.

"Where at, what's going on?" Tim asked.

"You can decide for yourself," Duo suggested.

"We have just lost Grey two, I repeat, Grey two is going down," an excited voice said from one of the channels Duo had been monitoring, and had opened for Tim to hear.

"Grey one, this is Grey leader, can you ascertain what happened?" another voice said on the new channel.

"Grey leader, I don't know, Grey two just exploded. I thought I saw lightning, but we are not near any storms. I have to assume it was a mechanical," the pilot of the reporting plane said.

When he heard the words, "Just exploded," Tim got the location of the broadcast, and set a course for there. The plane reporting the incident was located back to the West, only a couple of hundred miles from Timtown.

Of course! Clank would do something close to the base to make sure they would connect the two."

He was over 1000 miles from the incident, so at top speed it would take him almost four minutes to get there.

The pilot of Grey One followed the pieces of his comrade's plane down until they stuck the ground, and then reported the exact location back to his base. He was directed back to his original patrol course.

*

It had been three minutes since Tim had started toward the incident. I wonder if the plane was just the victim of some mechanical problem? The comment about the lightning is still the best lead though. He was within 100 miles of the remaining plane when his suspicions of Clank were confirmed.

"Grey Leader, Grey Leader, this is Grey one," the pilot shouted. "I have a trailer. I repeat . . . there is an object behind me."

"Can you identify Grey One?" the base returned.

"I would have to say it is the mystery plane, Grey Leader," the pilot shouted.

"Are you sure Grey One?"

"I would have to say 'yes'! The trailer is small, black, and very maneuverable. I can't get him off my tail!" the pilot shouted his last sentence.

"Okay Grey One, you have permission to exit the airplane, I repeat, get out of the plane!"

"Not yet Grey Leader, trailer has shown no intention of hostile action," the pilot came back.

"Grey One, punch out, I repeat, punch out now! You won't get any warning, I repeat, if it is the mystery ship, it will use laser to bring you down. Get out now, or it will be too late!" the radio operator at the base pleaded with the pilot.

"Get out of that thing!" Tim yelled to the pilot through the channel Duo had opened up. He was within twenty-seconds of arriving on the scene.

"Who is that?" the pilot asked, then continued. "Is this Blue leader?"

"No, it is not Blue Leader," Tim shouted into the open channel. "I am a friend, and I am coming to help you, but I can't get there for another ten-seconds. Don't ask any questions; just get out of the plane! Now!" Tim shouted.

"I don't understand," the pilot replied.

"Just do it, or you're dead!" Tim yelled.

Tim had the F-16 on his sensors, and there, close behind was the TT Fighter. He had gotten to within twenty miles when the sensors indicated, Clank had fired on the F-16.

"Goddamn you, you son-of-a-bitch!" Tim yelled into the open channel.

"What's the matter Timmy, can't save everybody?" Clank's voice came back over the open channel.

"Sensors show that the pilot did get out of the plane in time," Duo added.

"Ha, ha to you asshole!" Tim said into the open channel.

"It's not over yet, Timmy," Clank said in return.

Tim arrived at the scene and slowed immediately. Down below and a little to the right was the pilot, falling, on his way to the ground. Tim descended quickly, as the pilot's parachute billowed out. The sensors showed the TT Fighter to be six miles farther off to the right, uncloaked, and heading toward the helpless pilot.

"What the hell is he doing?" Tim asked Duo.

"The TT Fighter has the parachute targeted," Duo said.

"What? That miserable bastard, he wouldn't?"

"It looks like he is going to shoot the pilot."

"Oh shit, what can I do?" Tim asked

"The Pod can extend a tractor beam and pull the pilot to safety."

"That'll kill him!" Tim exclaimed.

"No it won't. The pilot will be protected inside the beam, and you can deliver him anywhere you want," Duo returned.

"Do it!" Tim commanded as he focused on the pilot, and projected a thought out to him.

"Pilot secured," Duo said, as the Pod zipped a couple of hundred feet above the open chute. The TT Fighter flashed by as well.

Tim accelerated the Pod away, concerned about the pilot being subjected to the G's. Duo said not to worry because anything within the beam was the same as anything inside the Pod. The pilot was in no danger, other than possibly dying of fright.

"Did you get the marker on him?" asked Tim.

"Yes, it was successful also," Duo responded.

Tim dropped the Pod toward the ground. When he was at five hundred feet, he stopped and gently placed the astonished pilot on the surface, then released him from the beam. Tim dropped the Pod down and came to within a few feet of the bewildered man.

"I'm glad I was able to get to you in time," Tim said to the pilot.

"Who are you?" the pilot gasped. "What kind of machine is that?"

If I allow the man to continue, the simple questions will go on and on, but I have to get back to Clank and spoil any other attempts he makes at breaking my deal with Ed.

Tim gave the pilot a simple salute. Then the Pod shot up into the sky and was gone from the pilot's sight in a couple of seconds.

*

Duo's plan to contain Clank was simple. When the TT fighter was uncloaked, a small energy spot had been painted on it with a laser.

*

The marker came in clear as Tim directed the Pod to the TT Fighter. In the one minute Tim had taken to snatch and deposit the pilot safely, the TT Fighter, at top speed, managed to put only eighty miles between them. Tim assumed correctly that Clank had cloaked the fighter again, but there was the marker, big as life.

*

The Pod will close with the TT Fighter in under thirty-seconds, and then I'll use a strategy of interdiction. I'll place energy shields around anything Clank intends to destroy. It will be simple to just wear him down.

*

Three hours later, the TT Fighter glided into the opening to Timtown, Clank in a rage. He had attempted to shot down six additional U.S. military planes, and even threatened a civilian passenger plane. He had remained cloaked trying to elude the strange craft that was dogging him, but somehow the Manta shaped ship always showed up at the right moment, and none of his laser strikes did any damage.

*

Tim flew back inside Timtown at the same time Clank did. He and Duo had programmed the Pod to fly at a moment's notice. It could now screen any flight the TT Fighter took, remotely if necessary.

*

For the first time since the altercations with Clank started, I'm now confident I can win out over the Man-machine. I have Clank stymied, and now it is time to work on the final solution.

*

Tim took the Sky-bike and traveled sixty miles to the new outpost Major Matusca had set up. Since the clear-out from Timtown, the awful headaches had remained fresh in everyone's mind. There hadn't been any talk of going back, not until the medical staff could come up with either an explanation, or an antidote.

"I want you to contact Ed Adams for me," Tim asked Matusca.

"I'm not sure I'm glad to see you, not after drooling all over myself," Matusca said, punching a key on his cell phone.

"I'm sorry you had to suffer with the rest of them, but I had to do something." Tim shrugged.

"Yeah, well, you guys save my bacon, then give me a headache that made me wish I had faced the firing squad," the Major complained.

"Yeah, hey Mr. Adams, Matusca here. Our headache is standing next to me," he said, then handed the phone to Tim.

"I'm proud of our little scheme and how well it worked," Ed said, "but please, let's not get that desperate again."

"Boy, you guys are pussies," Tim laughed.

"Son, that was possibly the most painful, scary thing I've ever had to go through, and I knew what was happening. I hear all the personnel that didn't know are really traumatized."

"Hey, it worked better than we imagined," Tim said.

"Yes, it certainly got their attention. Amazing really, because it worked better than stomping them into the ground."

"Got Steiner's attention, huh?"

"For the moment, but the old snake is no doubt trying to come up with something else. Unlimited amounts of platinum and diamonds must be ruining his beauty sleep," Ed laughed and then asked more serious. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Ann."

"I told you Son, she's safe."

"Not good enough."

"I don't know what else I can do. I—"

"I just called to tell you, I will be taking care of it," Tim interrupted.

"What? How?" Ed asked.

"Let's just say, a new piece of tech has surfaced, and I will be using it to get Ann."

"Son, she's 45,000 feet up, and inside an airplane."

"Not for long."

"Son, you can't be serious? You cannot afford to cause any casualties, not now!"

"No one is going to even get a headache, I promise," Tim said and then hung up.

Chapter 30

Showdown

Tim requested the location of Clank when he confirmed the Pod was set to automatic.

Tim appeared in the misty, foggy place where he had talked to Clank the last time.

"Time to talk Mister Machine," Tim said loudly, turning around to survey the surroundings.

There was nothing in this strange chamber except the mist and fog. Tim could tell by the way the sound of his voice echoed; it was the same size as the first time.

"Hey, I've come to discuss some things, it's time you know. I can stop you from doing anything, if I want. I won't let you hurt anyone else." I hope. There's still people in Whuc Seaacki and I don't know if I can hide them forever. Maybe they don't have any real value to Clank, anymore. Tim stood there waiting, but received no answer.

"I'm not going away, I can wait. We need to resolve this as soon as possible," Tim said in a sing song tone. He wanted to sound as cocky as possible to the Man-machine.

"You can't do anything. I can stop you at anytime so come on out, and we will resolve this thing. I think I have a solution that will please you," Tim continued.

"Why do you persist with this foolishness?" Clank finally decided to communicate. "I am more powerful than you!" The voice was loud and surrounded Tim, but there was still nothing to be seen.

"First, let's talk face to face; second, I'm not here to flex muscles. Whether or not you think you possess more or less power is irrelevant. There is a problem, and I have a solution. Do you want to hear it?"

"Power 'is' the problem, do you not agree?"

"No, I definitely disagree."

"The one with the most power wins, how can there be anything else to discuss?" the Man-machine said.

"What is there to win?" Tim questioned.

"This place your servants call Timtown."

"I don't have any servants, they're my friends."

"They are fed by you, they are clothed by you, they are protected by you, they are completely dependent on you, and they serve you. They are your servants," the Man-machine said sarcastically.

"Where do you get these weird ideas?"

"If you would care to look at the definition of servant, as perceived by the creators of Whuc Seaacki, you would find a servant is defined as a person totally dependent upon another. Do they not fit that description?"

"What does Whuc Seaacki have to say about friends?" asked Tim.

"It is irrelevant! The prize is not the few persons we are trying to catalogue. The thing we seek to possess is Whuc Seaacki itself and the tremendous power it contains. Am I not right?"

"I don't think so."

"Quit playing games with me! You come here to discuss things and then you engage in word puzzles."

"I am not playing games. I am trying to tell you I do not want Timtown," Tim announced, playing the word game to annoy Clank. "I am going to destroy it and I want—"

"You fool!" Clank's voice boomed out from the mist with incredible volume. "I will never allow that! This is mine, all mine!"

"You forget, I'm Number One and I control the fate of Timtown, not you. That is why I wanted to—"

"It is mine, all mine!" Clank interrupted again.

"You're not listening, I am still Number One and—"

"I repeat. . .you are a fool! Do you know what happens if the Number One is not able to continue, or steps down?"

Tim didn't answer.

"The Number Two automatically assumes that position," the Man-machine said.

"That makes sense, but what makes you think I'll step down, or do you contemplate something happening to me, maybe?"

"That is possible, you are not entirely invincible. You have weaknesses."

"I wonder, I really do. I'm continually surprised by the ease my position is able to shield me. Oh, the things Duo has. I'm sure you were impressed with the Pod."

"That is what you call the craft you were flying today?"

"Yeah, pretty neat huh? By the way, if you decided to be an asshole, again, I can do the same thing, again."

"Who is the Duo you refer to?" the Man-machine asked.

"He's the computer only I have access to. That's why I can be so cocky. He has information even you don't have."

"Impossible, I possess all the information in Whuc Seaacki."

"Oh come on, you know better than that. Where do you think the Pod came from? That's part of the deal I was talking about."

"You would give me that craft, in return for what?" the Man-machine asked.

"Not that one, one much better."

"And in return?"

"You will leave, and I will destroy Timtown."

"That is truly foolish, to destroy all this, why?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Ah, to save the world, but what is here could save the world."

"I don't think the world is ready for all this. I'm sure it would be abused," Tim said sadly.

"My, my, well then, why don't you continue as the guardian of Whuc Seaacki and monitor its use, to see that it is not?"

"Because you and the others would never give up trying to get it away from me."

"And you fear it might possibly happen?"

"Possibly, possibly not, but I want to get on with my life. I'm not the born leader type."

"You are a unique individual, that is for sure. You mentioned something better than the Pod. May I ask what that is?"

"A Deep Space Probe, a star ship," Tim said.

"It does exist then?" the Man-machine responded with hopefulness in its voice.

"Yes, you should see it. Wow! I was able to put out my hand and touch something that has traveled the Universe."

"And it is here?"

"No, but I can show you where," Tim lied.

"You will do that, if I agree to leave?"

"Yes."

"I would like to see it," Clank said.

"Not until you agree to the terms, and they are implemented."

"Do you know where you are now?" the Man-machine asked with what Tim thought was a small laugh.

"No, I just had Duo transport me to where you were located."

"I'm surprised your Mr. Duo didn't tell you what this place is. Then again, maybe he didn't know?" Clank laughed.

"Get it off your chest. What is this place? I know you're dying to tell me," Tim laughed back.

"No, Timmy, you are the one that is dying," Clank stated in a loud voice.

"Oh bullshit, I can transport myself out of here before you can do anything to hurt me."

"Not so Timmy, this is the one place that you cannot escape."

"Take me out now!" Tim immediately requested, but nothing happened. "Duo, I'm talking to you." There still was no response.

"Not going anywhere, huh? I am sure you are totally surprised. And you thought you were sooo smart. You were not, after all. You did not even check to see if there was such a spot as this, but I did, and now I will be the Number One and. . .Why are you so quiet Timmy?" The tone of Clank's voice was maniacally hostile.

"I'm thinking."

"And calling out to your Mr. Duo. What does he say?" Clank's voice had changed to a sympathetic tone.

"None of your business."

"Cannot contact him, huh? Do you want to know why?" Now the voice had a jeering tone. "Do you know where you are?" Now the voice was taunting.

"No, I don't! I already told you that!"

"This is the one place you should not have come Timmy," Clank sounded victorious.

"You already said that."

"Oh yes. I guess this would be a good time to strike up a deal?" Clank didn't sound sincere.

"Could be?"

"Let me ask you, and you tell the truth. Why did you offer to let me go? Why didn't you just try to destroy this place and me with it?" The Man-machine sounded sincere.

"I don't know? You know, I hadn't really thought out my reasons for offering Clank a way out. I figured you deserved a chance, after all you went through."

"You still consider me your brother then?"

"I don't consider you anything but a menace. I just recognize the face."

"Apparently that is enough to sway your decisions."

"Apparently."

"I do not miss the human thing, but I remember the good feelings I had as a human. I no longer desire them, but I remember they were sometimes . . . pleasant," Clank's voice was quieter.

"That's part of the reason I'm letting you go," Tim said, sounding confident, like he could slip out of this proposed trap anytime he pleased. "I know it's not your fault you became what you did. If you had known, you would have done it different."

"No. I would not have done anything different. I spent too many years with a total frustration that you or anybody else could ever realize. This is my destiny," Clank countered.

"Master of the World. I guess any of the Arty who may have been in you has really disappeared. My brother was a kind person."

"I can be kind as well. I was going to get you here, and when you finally figured out that you were indeed, trapped, I was going to taunt you with this deal and that deal, to see you squirm. But I have changed my mind Timmy. You are a human that deserves better, so I am going to destroy you quickly. That is my final show of respect for you."

When Tim didn't respond, Clank continued. "I will tell you, as I'm sure you are curious how I finally managed to better you, if you want," the Man-machine continued.

"Yeah, go ahead and crow."

"You came to the second engine room of the Facility, the backup. The base takes considerable power to operate, as I am sure you must have realized. Apparently you never questioned how that power was supplied. Your Mr. Duo, your protector, has nothing to do with something as lowly as the engine room so he was unaware of its operation and design. You see Timmy, Whuc Seaacki gets its tremendous energy needs from a fusion reactor that is magnetically sealed. When you transported in here, I initiated that seal. Anything that can contain the power of the Sun can surely contain you. There is no way out for you," the Man-machine laughed.

"Duo, is listening to you right now. I will be out of here in a moment," Tim stated.

"Not so Timmy, I have closed all channels, and in a moment the fusion reactor will start. It will be over for you in less than a millisecond. I will respect your concern for your friends and protect them."

"Like you respected Sims?"

"That was before I formulated this plan. At first, I thought I might be able to persuade you to turn it all over by other means. Now, I have succeeded with this plan and I do not need to coerce the others. They are safe, I promise."

"It won't work Clank because I have set the self-destruct. If I don't return every so often, it will automatically go off."

"I have no indication of such a program," Clank said.

"There are so many things you didn't know about. You didn't know about the space ships, and I know that you looked and looked. You didn't know about Duo, and the Secret Place. Do you know what is there? It's unbelievable!"

"I am sure it is, and I am looking forward to seeing it, and I will," Clank bragged.

"Duo won't make you Number One, I made sure of that!" Tim yelled.

"The chain of command dictates Number Two replaces Number One, I made sure of that," Clank said with confidence.

"I changed the rules. As Number One I can do that."

"You're bluffing," the Man-machine laughed.

"If you destroy me, you destroy everything you want so bad. I made sure of that. How stupid do you think I am?"

"Stupid enough to come here, and get yourself trapped," Clank's voice boomed out.

"I knew there was always the possibility, so I made sure. If I go, so does everything else. I came to see you, to talk a deal, and you used the situation to deceive me. I understood the risks with you, so I was smart enough to ensure if anything happened to me, everything goes."

"What about your friends?"

"They're gone and they will have to fend for themselves, but it's better than having you running amuck."

"I think you're bluffing, and I think I am going to be the new Number One. Good-bye Timmy."

"Wait! Please wait!" Tim yelled, as the pressure in the chamber dramatically increased. The atmosphere of the chamber was changed to almost pure tritium within a couple of seconds. The secondary fusion generator of Timtown came on line with a horrendous bang. Within a tenth of a second the chamber was heated to fifty-million degrees, and the tritium was being fused into helium, producing vast amounts of energy.

*

The second Pod shot out of the small space port and quickly disappeared into the night sky. No one saw it go.

*

A thousand miles away, a 747 with the Presidential Seal on its fuselage was just disconnecting from the airborne tanker that had filled its tanks. The plane designated Air Force One pulled its nose up slightly and headed for its cruising altitude. A small black object closed on it very fast, and when the object was a half mile away, it slowed, and matched the speed of the monstrous plane. The giant plane was escorted by five sleek F-15 Eagle fighters, but none of them was aware they had a visitor.

*

Inside the 747, the crew had settled down for the next part of the long, continuing flight. They had been in the air for 49 hours already. The pilot was the only one still awake fifteen minutes after the refueling. All the rear cabin personnel were down, getting needed sleep. A teenage girl was curled up in one of the lounge couches, a blanket covering her. She wasn't asleep, but was close.

*

Tim focused his attention on the 747, projecting his thoughts through the fuselage. His mental description of Ann allowed the Pod's recognition system to lock on to the drowsy teen inside the plane.

*

Ann was barely cognizant of the tractor beam grasping her. There was barely any sensation, and if her eyes had been closed she most likely wouldn't have realized something was happening. She perceived that she was starting to move, by sight only, but that caught her attention and she let out a scream as she moved across the plane. No one inside the plane heard her though because she was imbedded inside the tractor beam. Ann's first reaction was sheer terror as she rushed toward the skin of the aircraft. Ann put out her hands to deflect the impact, but instead of a crash, she found herself outside the plane and rushing through the pitch black darkness. It suddenly occurred to her that Timtown was responsible, and the terror subsided as she looked around. Ann was surprised that she was not totally freaking out. Here she was suspended in midair with the surface of the Earth far below.

"Holy Shit!" Ann screamed; as she watched the 747 she had boarded many hours before fly away from her. Ann deduced she wasn't falling, but was inside of some-kind of transparent membrane taking her somewhere. Ann looked ahead in the direction she sensed she was moving and saw the Pod.

"Oh-my-God!" Ann whispered to herself as she closed the distance to the alien craft. Now as she studied the unearthly shape she was apprehensive, not sure if it was still a Timtown thing.

At that moment, Tim activated the canopy transparency, and Ann suddenly saw him sitting in the Pod. Now relieved, her first emotion was anger.

"You bastard!" Ann shouted.

"Hey Darling," Tim returned.

"Don't darling me, you creep!"

"I can see you don't appreciate my gesture here."

"You put me back immediately! I don't want anything to do with you or your weird shit," Ann screamed, now just feet from the canopy and obviously no longer frightened.

"Can't do it Ann."

"Why not! I don't want anything to do with any of your schemes."

"Too late for that. That's why I did this."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're the focus of a big, big struggle."

"I am not?"

"Ann, you've been flying around and around, cooped up in that plane. Didn't you ever wonder why they never landed?"

"No."

"Well, Darling, one side has you, the other wants you, and I saved your ass, so there."

"Oh thanks, but now what?"

"I don't know? I can't bring you in here, no room."

"Don't worry, I'm not interested."

"I don't suppose you'd consider going back?"

"Never!"

"I talked to Duo because I figured you might be difficult, so we thought maybe you'd like to go someplace else?"

"Where?"

"We found a small town a long way from most of the problems, interested?"

"I might be? Who's Duo?"

"Enjoy the ride," Tim said as he accelerated the Pod, with Ann rushing alongside.

Because she was inside the beam, like the F-16 pilot, Ann felt no discomfort from the extreme speed or climatic conditions as the Pod headed toward Ann's new home at 13,466 miles per hour.

*

Tim had carefully searched for a place as far from the geological disturbances as possible and decided on a small town in North Eastern Canada.

As Tim set her on the ground he asked, "Ann, why don't you come back?"

"No . . . because I have to believe in something or someone bigger than Timtown. It scares me to think that silly place might be all there is. It scares me that you think you have all the answers."

"No one said Timtown held all the answers."

"Mr. V said there was no God! I don't want to hear that!"

"He said; as far as he knows, and I'm working on a solution so we don't have to stay in Timtown."

"It will always be Timtown, no matter where we go. I just wish I could forget everything. You don't know Tim, you will never know!" Ann spit out the last words with venom as she turned and walked quickly away. She was still inside the field, and just before Tim switched it off, Duo erased any memories she had of Timtown and her previous life.

Tim watched from the cloaked Pod, as she walked up to two women with small children and made friends.

Chapter 31

Ann

"I wanted to have this little powwow before the others get here," the President said to Ed and Samuel Steiner.

"I appreciate you including me," Steiner said.

"You're here because I am warning you, not including you."

"Oh," Samuel seemed indignant.

"There's no one here to posture to, so you listen, and you listen good Steiner."

"I don't like your tone," Samuel squawked.

"I don't give a shit!" The President was not known to be blunt, but he was mad. "You and I are no longer working together for a common good, understand?"

"I understand fully." Samuel smiled a crooked smile.

"Good, now I'm informing you; the girl is no longer on my plane, so stand down," the President said.

"What, what happened?" Samuel was fidgeting.

"The kid," the President said. "Now, we have some work to do," he said, reaching for the phone.

*

"This is the only interview with any real information that we were able to obtain," a General said to the President. The men were in a conference room with four other members of the President's Cabinet, Samuel Steiner, and Ed Adams.

"Shortly after this tape was made the girl disappeared," the General continued.

"Mr. President, I don't understand how you can sit there on your duff and remain passive about this unconscionable act of aggression against this country," stated good old Samuel Steiner.

"Samuel, for one thing; getting all wound up and sticking my duff into everyone's business is not going to do any good. Second; I do not see this as an act of aggression. The kid gave us a preview of what he was going to do, and he wanted us to know it was a safe operation, with no risk to either us or the girl."

"My god Mr. President, do I detect an attitude of approval toward this most heinous crime?" the Secretary of State shouted.

"I told you to climb down, and I meant it Samuel. I will not tolerate political maneuvering in this meeting. I'm sure everyone present understands your need to establish your perceived position on this issue."

"And that is what Mr. President?" The Secretary was visibly annoyed.

"Mr. Secretary, it is no secret, not at least in this room, that the military faction trying to take control of this situation is: either an agent of yours, or visa versa. Now, I understand the checks and balances very well, Samuel. Our laws, so carefully devised by our predecessors to insure that, we, the servants of the people don't run off with the whole farm are at work. It is necessary, and I have to allow, no that's the wrong word. I am required, by law, to work within that system. So professionally, I acknowledge and appreciate your views. Personally, Samuel, I also acknowledge, but do not appreciate your position on this issue. This situation is not going to be handled so just a few gain something. As far as I am concerned, you and your boys have enough toys. You had no approval for that stunt you tried to pull out there."

"We were invited!" the Secretary of State exclaimed.

"Since when is something so delicate hidden from this office?" the President asked as he leaned forward toward Samuel.

"Part of the deal to be made with the second party was that exact point," Samuel countered. "I was simply acting as your agent."

"The second party out there and the second party here. You second party shits need to be educated on who's really in charge," the President's voice was stern.

"I had no way of knowing," Samuel defended, "but back to the present issue. May I remind you of the laws you spoke of, Mr. President?"

"Yes you may, and what is it about them that has you concerned?" the President asked.

"Kidnapping is a serious offense, Sir," Samuel said.

"I know that, but is it the case here?" the President countered.

"I would think so Mr. President," Steiner said.

"Mrs. Preston, I think this is within your expertise, can you enlighten us?" the President asked.

"Ah, I haven't gotten all the information, but from what I do know, there could be a possible case for kidnapping," Mrs. Preston, the White House's Chief Council answered.

"Possible kidnapping!" Steiner shouted as he turned back toward the President. "He stole the girl off your plane. He took a goddamn government witness off a goddamn government plane!" There were some serious laws broken, and we should go get him."

"Ahm, I'm not sure he broke any laws, though," Mrs. Preston said.

"That's bullshit, he can't do that and get away with it," Samuel growled.

"Mr. Secretary, we don't know if the girl wanted to stay," Mrs Preston jumped in. "She wasn't being held or anything. You defined her as a witness, but I understand she was never subpoenaed, or arrested, or anything."

"And the same kid asked us to protect her," the President added. "So you see Samuel, it would be a hard charge to make stick."

"Especially since he did not break any laws, such as breaking and entering, or use any kind of force, or coercion upon anyone," Mrs. Preston added.

"Thank you Mrs. Preston. So Samuel," the President said as he reached for a ringing telephone next to him, "it's just not the way you want to see it," he finished as he brought the phone to his ear and listened.

"As soon as you get some more information, let me know," the President said into the phone and then put it down.

The President gestured to the General who moved toward him and put his head down close to the President's mouth so the President could speak to him in private.

After a moment the General spoke back softly. "I wouldn't have thought they would try something so ridiculous either." The General stood up, walked toward the door and then out of the room. The President swiveled in his chair to face the Secretary of State. There was a stern look on his face.

"What was that all about?" the Secretary of State asked, squirming in his chair under the continuing glare from the President.

"It is all about my plane, Samuel. It seems to be the center of attention today," the President said in a mocking tone.

"What is that to mean?" Samuel asked, still visibly uncomfortable.

"It means that Air Force One has been intercepted by an overwhelming number of 'fighter planes'!" The sentence had started slow and low, but built in intensity, ending with the last two words spoken sharp and loud. "It means," the President shouted, "that five good men lost their lives trying to fight the son-of-a-bitches off!" He ended the sentence and continued glaring at Samuel Steiner. Steiner was caught off guard and shot a look at the Secretary of Defense. The President not only saw this, but had been counting on it.

"All right you two bastards, I can't do anything to you, right now, but be advise, someone is going to pay!" The President was furious, his voice shaking with anger. "Samuel, I want this thing ended immediately. You get on the horn and advise whoever is controlling this insanity, that the girl is not on my plane."

"They won't believe me, Sir," Steiner whined.

"Well, tough shit! You and Atkins here had better get this craziness stopped, or I swear, it's going to be bad for both of you."

"Mr. President, I am at a loss to what is happening here?" Mrs. Preston asked.

"Oh, yes, sorry, please forgive me. I should have Mr. Atkins there brief you on the situation." The President looked directly at the Secretary of Defense as he spoke. "Considering he was most likely the individual most responsible, but considering how bad he screwed it up, I will enlighten you myself." It was obvious the way his lips worked, in tight little movements that the President was angry. "It seems that someone was not aware the girl was no longer on Air Force One and these some-ones have shot down Air Force One's escorts. At this moment they are forcing my plane to land. Those five pilots that went down, I knew personally."

"I'm sorry Sir," Steiner said. "I have to tell you now; it was determined by the Joint Chiefs that the girl be classified as a National Security Risk. Considering—"

"What in God's name do you people think you are doing?" the President interrupted in a nasty voice. "Am I not supposed to be a part of a decision like that?"

"Sir, now Sir, just a minute, please, let me explain," Atkins said.

"You do that Mr. Secretary, quickly," the President snarled.

"Mr. President, you are aware of the alert definitions, the situations that govern the status of our military readiness?" Atkins said sheepishly.

"I thought I was," the President returned.

"Sir, there is a provision allowing certain situations to be analyzed and acted upon without your immediate participation and or agreement, if certain conditions are present."

"And that is?" the President asked.

"If your position is in any way compromised, therefore affecting your ability to judge or act accordingly, you may be excluded from the alert classification process. I think you are aware of this provision."

"Yes I am, but what does it have to do with this act of piracy?"

"We are getting ahead of ourselves. Sir. I was explaining the classification regarding the girl. The military operation that followed was not part of the same reasoning."

"I see, but I'm still at a loss as to my being excluded from important decisions."

"Well, Sir, I was getting to that. It was determined, and I believe rightfully so, considering you alone were in possession of the girl, that your judgment had been indeed, compromised. So the Joints had every right to classify her as a Class-One-Security-Threat." Atkins had barely breathed through the last part and as he finished, he expelled all the pent up air.

"I uh, well Samuel," the President said as he looked to the Secretary of State, "you two have indeed managed to wriggle yourself out of this one, but now for the other incident. This is some bad shit Mr. Secretary."

"I can assure you Mr. President, I was not a part of that decision!" Steiner said.

"But you were aware of it?" the President questioned.

"I was aware the plan existed, but I was not aware of the plan being implemented, and that is the truth, Sir."

"Fucking, slimy, bastard! Oh, I believe you, I do indeed. Good Samuel. I would expect you to be squeaky clean on something as dastardly as this," the President said. "And, I suppose, Mr. Atkins here is also pretty clean regarding this latest twist. Am I correct on that also?"

"Yes, Sir, I believe so. May I suggest that the Secretary and I get to the bottom of this and then report directly to you? I would also suggest to the Joints, the girl be removed from the high risk file," Samuel said.

"Yes, considering I no longer have her, I can no longer be compromised, correct? I trust my participation is once again honored?"

"Yes, Sir, I can see no reason to figure differently. Good Sir," a relieved Samuel Steiner said, as the General returned to the room.

"The crew will land and allow an inspection of the plane, as you ordered, Sir," the General continued.

"Good, thank you General." The President then looked sternly at Atkins and Steiner. "I want you two bozos to sit down with whoever the hell is not thinking clearly, and make some sense to them. If that kid can snatch a person in a parachute and deliver him, unharmed, to the ground. Then take a girl out of an airplane flying at forty-five thousand feet, don't you think he might be a little too much for you clowns to handle?"

"Sir, I wish you would word your dissatisfaction a little better. I do not like to be referred to as a circus act," Atkins said in a snit.

"If the shoe fits, wear it." The President turned back to the General. "Let's take a look at the interview with the girl."

"Yes, Sir," said the General as he picked up a remote-controller from the desk.

"This interview was done by a specially trained psychiatrist. The girl was placed under mild hypnosis because that's the only way we could get anything out of her," the General said as he pushed a couple of times on the remote.

"You're sure you got the truth?" the President asked.

"Sir, at this time, how would I be able to discern fantasy from fiction?" the General said.

"I see your point. Let's get to the interview," the President said.

*

A large screen popped to life on the far wall. A moment later a picture appeared. Ann was seated in a reclining chair, facing an older man. As the video started they were talking softly, making it unable for the President and his group to hear.

The General adjusted the remote to raise the volume as he spoke. "This was just the preliminary, we haven't missed anything."

"Are you still comfortable talking to me?" the Doctor asked Ann.

"Yes, I'm okay," she answered.

"We talked briefly about the place Tim took you and Arty," the Doctor said.

"Stop!" the President commanded.

The General stopped the video with his remote.

"Have you seen this interview in its entirety?" the President asked the General.

"No Sir, this is the first time."

"Damn! Well, go on," the President said.

"What has you concerned, Sir?" the General asked.

"Tell him Ed," the President said.

"Arty, he was Tim's brother, and he was abducted from the VA hospital by Tim and Ann. That's the last anybody's seen of him. Tim alluded to the fact that Arty was the second person, the great white hope for Steiner and his bunch," Ed explained.

"A lot of things could have happened to him," the General commented.

"Yes, a lot of things, including him really being the second party in this operation. He was a Navy fighter pilot, shot down over Iraq," Ed said.

"Oh!" the General said.

"Let's go on, and let's hope she can clear up this second party thing," the President said.

"Yes, Timtown," Ann answered, as the tape continued.

"Yes, that's the place. Are you comfortable talking about Timtown?" the doctor asked.

"I guess so. I'm not supposed to, though."

"Who asked you not to talk about it?" the doctor questioned.

"Tim," Ann answered.

"Do you know why he didn't want you to discuss it with anyone?"

"Because it was dangerous."

"What do you mean by dangerous? What was there to be afraid of there?" The doctor sounded interested for the first time.

"Oh, nothing in there, but Tim was worried someone would use the technology in Timtown to 'conquer the world'," Ann said, kind of giggling.

"He was serious about that?"

"Yes, very serious, we fought about it all the time."

"You didn't agree with him then, that it was dangerous?"

"What do you mean?" Ann asked sounding confrontational.

"You didn't think the things in there could be used to conquer the world, and you fought about it?" The Doctor sounded skeptical.

Ann thought for a moment. "I guess. Looking back, Tim was right, but that's not what we fought about."

"I see. Can we clarify the two points, one at a time?" the Doctor asked, looking to his notes.

"We can try," Ann said sounding bored.

"First; the things you referred to before as being contained in Timtown could be used to conquer the world, in your opinion?"

"Yes, of course! Any fool who saw what's in there would assume the same thing," she fired at the Doctor.

"Can we talk about these things?"

"I guess so; Arty said it would be okay."

The President and the rest of the assembled group sat noticeably forward in their chairs. There it was, Arty was for real.

The doctor made a note and then continued.

"Just for the record, who is this Arty person?" the Doctor asked. The only thing he had been briefed about was to try to establish who was in charge of the place were Ann had been.

"Tim's brother," Ann said.

"Can you describe the things in Timtown now?"

"Yes."

The doctor sat for a moment, waiting for Ann to respond, but she said nothing.

"I'm not sure how to continue here. I thought you were going to tell me about Timtown?" the doctor asked.

"There's too much to just start rambling on about it all."

"Oh, I see!" the doctor said. "Where to start then? Can you describe Timtown briefly?"

"It's an alien base that's really, really old," Ann said as she sat forward a little and spoke softer, "and it's run by a computer."

"How did you find this base?"

"Tim found it after the earthquake, that's why they decided to call it Timtown."

"Who's they?" asked the doctor. This was why he was briefed.

"The rest of the people Tim took in there, Sims, Margie, Jake, Coyle," Ann paused, thinking.

The President leaned over to the man on his right and said, "Get in touch with Miser and tell that SOB; there are civilians in there. We can prove it. You make him understand that!"

Ann continued, counting the people in her head. "The Paulsons, Jenny, Mark, the kids, oh, and my workers," Ann finished with.

"Do you know how many there are in there?" the Doctor asked as he made more notes.

"I guess there are fifteen in all, counting the three prisoners," Ann said.

"Prisoners?" the doctor asked.

"Yeah, my three workers, I already counted them."

The doctor made another note. "Can we get back to Timtown? Can you describe it?"

"It's huge and parts of it are beautiful," Ann said projecting her awe.

"How many parts are there?" the doctor asked, also enthralled.

"I'm not sure, I didn't get everywhere."

"Can you tell me about the places you know about?"

"Yes," Ann sat silent again.

"What is the first part you remember?" The doctor wasted no time.

"The entrance!" Ann's voice rose considerably.

"Can you describe it?"

"It was, ah, it was such a surprise. We'd been trudging up the mountains, and Tim kept telling us not to worry because we were going to this fantastic place. Then he says; we're here, and there's nothing, just a big split in the rocks. I thought he had really cracked up. Then all of a sudden the rocks started to dissolve, and there was this pretty blue light. Then we went through it." Ann stopped at that point.

The doctor quickly asked another question. "Can you describe the inside? The first thing you saw?"

"We went down a tunnel, it was dark."

"Where did you go?"

"Into a chamber, Tim called it the control chamber."

"What was that like?"

"Like a cave, but there was nothing there except the strange walls."

"What about the walls?"

"They were covered with tiny plants."

"What kind of plants?"

"Like a really tight hedge and they felt good. Oh no, that's not right, they made me feel good. Mr. V said the people who built the base; put the plants on the walls to eliminate stress. They're really advanced to what we're used to."

"Mr. V, who is that?" the doctor asked.

"He's the computer who runs the place."

"Can you describe him?"

"Ah, not really, except, he's just a voice. That's why Tim named him Mr. V, Mr. Voice."

"This Mr. V never made himself available then?"

"He wasn't a someone; he was just a voice that was everywhere. He did appear as one of the old inhabitants to guard the prisoners, though."

"Can you describe this old inhabitant?"

"Really tall, but just like us."

"How tall?" asked the doctor, almost breathless.

"I just came up to his stomach, but not scary or anything, just tall, and he was a hunk."

"You've mentioned prisoners?"

"They were three men Tim captured," Ann's kind tone changed. "They had been Scum," Ann spit it out. "Tim caught them torturing people and brought them inside. Mr. V brought his replica of the Sooaunts—they built the base—to guard them. They sure didn't cause any more trouble."

"This replica, is that one of the things you and Tim argued about being dangerous?"

"Oh no, that guy could never leave the base. It was what Mr. V knew that Tim was afraid of because if someone got a hold of the technology they could rule the world. We've already gone over this!" Ann said annoyed.

"You didn't think it was possible, so you argued with Tim about it?" the doctor questioned.

"I've already told you, it was possible!" Ann scolded. "It was definitely possible, but that wasn't why we argued. Anyone who has access to Mr. V can do anything they want, and no one can stop them. Tim was just being so dramatic, like he was supposed to be the great protector, or something. I didn't want to get cooped up inside a mountain for the rest of my life. Besides, he wasn't there when my family needed him, and I didn't want him telling me what to do."

"What was the argument then?"

"Well, mostly about Arty."

"What did you two argue about, concerning Arty?"

"Oh, Arty was a cripple. Tim rescued him from the hospital and brought him to Timtown to be fixed, and Arty went a little overboard," Ann continued.

The President, Ed, and especially Samuel Steiner leaned farther forward.

"This is getting good," Ed whispered. The President agreed with a small nod. Samuel was silent, but intensely interested.

"What do you mean by fixed?" the doctor asked.

"Mr. V could make it so Arty wasn't crippled anymore?"

"You believed this to be possible then?"

"At first I don't know if I really did, but Mr. V did it, well sort of. I mean, Arty doesn't really walk now, but he could if he wanted to."

"You said Arty went overboard. Can you describe overboard?" the doctor asked quickly, not wanting to waste any time.

"He," Ann giggled, "threw his body away, and that really pissed Tim off."

"I don't think I understand?"

"Tim left Arty with Mr. V to be fixed, so he could walk again, and Arty went and replaced his body with this cute little metal thing that floats along. It just has mechanical arms and no legs."

"It floats in midair?" questioned the doctor. It sounded like he didn't believe Ann.

"Yes, and boy, can it go fast!"

"I'd love to see you two stuck in the same room." The President looked quickly at Samuel.

"Do you think this is possible?" the doctor asked, with kind of a snicker.

"Mr., we are talking about Timtown," Ann scolded him for his condescending attitude, "everything is possible there!"

The President chuckled to himself. The doctor, he knew, had not been entirely briefed on Timtown and was having trouble grasping the truth.

"And, Tim was concerned about what Arty had done to himself, correct?" the chastised doctor commented

"Oh yes, Tim said he constituted a freak. It was a little weird, I have to admit."

"And you stood up for Arty, then? On what he had done to himself."

"Not really, because I thought it was a little weird too. I just told you that," Ann rebuked the doctor.

"I'm sorry; it's just that I'm trying to get to the bottom of the argument between you and Tim."

"Oh, Tim was convinced the alteration—the abomination he called it—had made Arty think differently. I think he was just jealous because Arty took over after that."

"Stop!" the President commanded. He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.

"Ha! It's just as I've been saying all along!" Samuel shouted. "The kid isn't in charge! I told you; you've been dealing with the wrong person."

"Samuel, god-damn-it, this only means we know, for sure, who the other party is. It does not constitute a change in our policy," the President returned.

"But, Tim is not in charge, you heard her!" Samuel wailed.

"She is not privy to what is really going on in there. I'm sure of that," the President said. Let's go on, please."

The video started again, the doctor asking. "What made Tim think Arty was thinking differently?"

"Because, when Tim first found the base, he said some guy killed him at the entrance. Anyway, Mr. V fixed him up, and Tim said that he had felt entirely different while he had undergone the surgery, or whatever it was."

"Did he explain this different feeling?"

"Yes, he claimed when he was dead, or only his body was dead, there was a short time that he felt, ah? Oh, let me think about how he told me this. He said, 'without his body to worry about, his mind was able to see much clearer,' that's it, he thought much clearer."

"So Tim figured, Arty had gone through the same thing when he was operated on?"

"Well, that's part of it. You see, Arty threw his body away. The part about the strange feeling was only temporary with Tim. Arty doesn't have a body anymore, so Tim thinks that Arty is totally different all the time. He says Arty is not human anymore."

"And what do you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. Arty was nice to me. He didn't try to boss me around, like Tim. He said it was okay to talk about Timtown, and he said he would protect us from anything bad."

"Tim didn't want to protect you?"

"Ah, I don't know what Tim wanted to do? It was like he was afraid of everything, all the time. I mean, he had no reason to be. He had all that protection stuff, and the hand lasers. No one could hurt him."

"Maybe he was afraid for you?" the doctor stated.

"Could be, but I could have taken care of myself, if he would have let me have any of the stuff. All I got was to ride one of the Sky-bikes and then I couldn't get out of his sight."

"By stuff, you are referring to what?"

"Ah stuff, ah, like the protection thingy Tim always wore? That's what you're wondering about?"

"Yes, that sort of thing. Tell me as much as you can about those sort of things."

"Oh geez, ahum, the protection suit, that's what Tim called it, was a, ah, a force field. It was an energy field that surrounded his entire body and protected him."

"You couldn't see this protection field then?"

"No, I told you it was energy. No wait, I made a mistake. Normally it couldn't be seen, but it could be made to change colors, if you wanted, but normally it was transparent."

"How strong was it?"

"I don't know, it was strong though? I remember Tim fired a bullet into his hand and the bullet ended up sitting in his palm, and he wasn't hurt."

"That is strong," the doctor commented. "Is there any other things, or gadgets that Tim used? You mentioned lasers?"

"Yeah, hand lasers. Ah, they were really small, he showed me once. Real thin, round things that fit in his palm, and fired a laser down his finger. They were real powerful, if he wanted them to be."

"He could adjust them then?"

"Yeah, if he wanted to just stun someone he could. He didn't like to 'really' blast anyone. He got mad one time and really fried a couple of these Scum guys, then he was really down in the dumps about it."

"You mentioned Sky-bikes?" the doctor said as he made another note.

"Yeah, they were neat. Just like motorcycles, but without wheels. I wish he would have let me go farther, but I'm just a girl, you know. Arty said it was okay, but Tim was being an asshole. He said it was too dangerous."

"Where did you ride them, where there was any danger?"

"Outside Timtown. God, I had been stuck inside that place for weeks, and I wanted to get out. So did everyone else, so we all got Sky-bikes and went for a ride."

"You enjoyed that?"

"Oh yeah, they're neat. Like really fast, but Timmy Boy made sure that I didn't have too much fun."

"He was still trying to protect you, maybe?"

"I know, I know, but nothing happened. I mean what's the big deal. Tim's there, Arty's there. No one is going to be able to hurt us. Those two could have blasted the shit out of anyone."

"I guess maybe they didn't want to hurt anyone," the doctor said, "And you never went again?"

"No, Mr. Sims disappeared, and Tim got all hyped up at Arty."

"What was he so excited at Arty for?"

"Well, Tim claimed that Arty was responsible."

"Why would he accuse Arty?"

"Because Sims sided with Tim about Timtown. He was afraid, just like Tim. They were afraid Arty was going to cause some shit if he took over completely."

The President said nothing, but looked directly at Samuel, and lifted his eyebrows.

"And, Arty had a different idea about what to do with the base?" the doctor asked, getting a feel for the politics in Timtown.

"Yes."

"What did Arty have in mind, I mean, what did he see as the purpose for the base?"

"I don't know, he never really told me much. I know that he wanted to run things, and wanted Tim to stay out of it. He felt Tim was being too cautious. Arty knew no one could hurt us and he thought it was silly to hide like Tim wanted us to."

"Did you feel that Arty was right?"

"Right, smight, who cares? Shit, the world's all screwed up. Scum running all over. They were in charge outside, and we were stuck inside. Arty said, 'Fuck em, they can't hurt us, so let's go kick some ass!' That made some simple sense to me, but Sims and Tim had some complicated scenario going on in their heads."

"They didn't want to go outside? They surely couldn't have been afraid," the doctor said, getting involved.

"Of course they didn't have to be afraid of anything outside, but they had this thing about Arty. It's hard to explain."

"Can you please try?"

"Ah, they were convinced Arty was going to conquer the world, like I said."

"And you didn't agree with them?"

"I don't know, I mean, like who cares. Shit, the place is a mess, someone's got to run it, and Arty would be better than anybody else."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Arty's smarter, and the most powerful. No one could tell him what to do, so he could do it better."

Samuel Steiner just smiled.

"What about Tim?"

"What about him, he just wants to do nothing?"

"Does Arty run Timtown then, at this time?"

"Um, I don't know. Him and Tim fight about it, but I don't know who's really in charge."

"You said just a moment ago that Arty was the most powerful. Is he allowing Tim to remain because he is his brother?"

"Sure, I kept telling Tim that, but he wouldn't listen. He claims that Arty isn't real anymore, and he refers to him as Clank. It hurts Arty to hear that."

"How do you know?"

"Arty told me. He doesn't want to go against his own brother, but Tim won't listen. He just keeps disappearing, and going to his special, secret place he calls Donnart-Ele-Io."

"Can you describe this, ah, Darnan-elsio?"

"It's Donnart-Ele-Io," Ann corrected him, "and nah, I can't go there, it's just for the Number One, that's Tim."

"Arty can't go there either?" the doctor questioned. He knew how important this was.

"Nope just Tim, I told you."

"What is this Number One thing you mentioned?" the doctor asked carefully.

"I really don't understand it all that well, but it was something that Mr. V gave Tim, before the rest of us came there."

"Something, ah, I can't get a grasp on what you're trying to describe?" the doctor asked. "This Number One, is a thing, a place, a what?"

"Oh, excuse me, uhm, I'm sorry. Number One means Tim has special access to the central computer."

"To this Mr. V that you mentioned?" the doctor continued.

"That's the part I don't understand," Ann confessed, sounding genuinely confused. "At first there was Mr. V, but after Tim went to Donnart-Ele-Io, he was given control of another computer. He calls it Et. I guess this Et is more powerful than Mr. V. I think that's why Arty is so mad at Tim. He can't take completely over."

"Stop!" the President commanded. He looked directly at Samuel, as the video went blank. "Is this enough to make you think about what you have been doing?" the President asked.

"It doesn't prove a thing?" Samuel snorted.

"It proves that this is all about who has the biggest computer, the same thing we fear nowadays," Ed said.

"She said she was guessing," Samuel returned

"She's confirmed there is a struggle, and Arty is mad at Tim because Tim is Number One. What does that mean to you Sam?" Ed asked. "And, don't say nothing because you aren't that dumb."

"We can't confirm anything from the blathering of a teenage girl!" Samuel yelled.

"Enough!" the President interrupted. "Let's see the rest of the tape."

The video started again.

"Arty is mad at Tim, can you explain more?" the doctor asked.

"Arty's mad at Tim because he's running the base now, but Tim still has control of the bigger computer, and they're both acting like little boys."

The President looked quickly at Samuel, but didn't say anything.

"Do you want to go back there?" the doctor asked.

"I don't know, I would like to see the forest again, I guess."

"The forest?"

"Oh yeah, it's really fantastic, it's the best part of Timtown."

"You are saying; there is a forest contained inside this base, inside a mountain?"

"I'm not just saying it, it's true, and it's really, really big."

"Can you describe, big, for me?"

"Really big. Mr. V told me once, but I can't remember exactly."

"Can you make a guess?"

"I remember that it was many thousands of acres?"

"You believed that?"

"I saw it! I spent most of my time in there, and it was so big you couldn't see the other end or the sides of it."

The doctor didn't ask anything more immediately, but scanned his notes.

"You mention Scum. I take that to mean some sort of people," the doctor asked after close to minute.

"Scum are the people doing all the bad things. They are really terrible. They killed my family."

"I see," the doctor said. "Does Arty want to do anything to the Scum?"

"I don't know. I think he doesn't really concern himself with that part of it? They can't get into the base, so he doesn't worry about them."

"Is there anyway anybody else that might be able to get inside the base?"

"No. I don't think so. Not without Tim letting them in."

Ed and the President both looked at Samuel.

"Tim?" The doctor stopped for a moment and looked at his notes before continuing. "What about Arty, can he let someone inside, if he wanted to?"

"Gee, you know, I don't really know for sure? I get the feeling Tim is the only one that can do that, but I'm not sure."

"She's not sure!" Samuel emphasized, looking at The President.

"Might that be the cause of the rift between the two brothers?" the doctor asked.

"I guess it could be? I know Tim doesn't want anybody else inside. I'm not sure if Arty does or not?"

"Do you know of anyone wanting to get inside Timtown?"

"Oh, everybody, especially those Army types crawling all over the place. I suppose there are a lot of people that would like to see it. It's something else, that's for sure. If you want something, the computer makes it and it floats out of the wall."

"What do you mean by something?"

"I don't understand?"

"You said, if you wanted something, the computer would make it and it would just float out of the wall. What did you mean by something?"

"Anything you want. Any kind of food, that sort of thing."

"There are stores inside the mountain."

"No, why would there be stores in there, there isn't anyone to buy anything? Well, there is now, but before there wasn't anyone there."

"I'm sorry, by stores, I meant supplies, ah, things being stored that sort of thing," the doctor explained.

"Oh, ah I guess. Um, the computer gets it from someplace, I guess. I don't know? Mr. V can make a lot of things, though, and he sure does it fast."

"What things did he make while you were there?"

"Ahum, he made the Sky-bikes," Ann hesitated and thought, "and the fighters. They were really neat! I wanted to fly one of them, but Timmy wouldn't let me."

"What are the fighters you are referring to?"

"The airplanes, the TT Fighters! Arty made three of them. They were really neat, like I said."

"You wanted to fly one of these fighters? Um, are we talking about some sort of model here?" the doctor asked, unsure.

"They weren't models, they were real!" Ann said annoyed that the doctor wasn't taking her serious again. "Boy, you sure don't listen too well, do you?"

"I'm sorry, but you expected to fly a real airplane?"

"Yeah, I spent a lot of time in the simulator, just like Tim. I could have done it. Arty said that I would be able to handle it."

"I can't imagine, you figured you would be able to fly a real airplane," the doctor stated, forgetting this was an interview to get information.

"Why not, Tim did it!" Ann exclaimed.

"I'm still not sure on what we're talking about here? Let's get this straight?" the doctor refused to believe what he was hearing. "You say, Arty built some real airplanes, you called them fighters. Can you describe them?"

"Yeah, they were real smooth, and black, and really fast. I don't know what else I can tell you."

"And they were not models, but the real thing?"

"Yes, they were real airplanes, that you sat in, and actually flew."

"And Tim flew one of these fighters?"

"Yeah, him and Arty. They flew them out of the base. I was there when they left and I was there when Tim came back. Trust me!"

"I see, and these were built by Arty?"

"Well, I think that Mr. V actually built them, but Arty was the one that told him what he wanted."

"We are talking about a short span of time here, I mean, you were only inside Timtown just a short time, say five or six weeks, correct?"

"Yes."

"And in that time, two airplanes were constructed, and Tim learned to fly these planes, actually flying one. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"This is quite a place you're telling me about, and you are of course, telling me the truth?"

"Of course!" Ann stated sharply.

"Well, I thank you for your time young lady. I hope we can continue sometime. I uh, I would be lying if I told you that I didn't have a million more questions about this place you described. It must be something indeed."

"You believe me then?"

"Young lady, not everyone gets to fly in Air Force One. From that one simple detail, I would speculate you are indeed a person with one hell of a story to tell."

"Well, gentlemen," the President said, as the video went dead on the wall, "this does indeed clear up many questions. I think we need to make a list of more pertinent questions, most schoshe. Does everyone agree?"

"Mr. President, I don't see what more we could have accomplished with that girl. It is quite evident she didn't have anything to do with what was going on in there," Samuel announced.

"Well, well, Mr. Secretary," the President said, "we sure do change our stripes quickly. Just a short while ago, that girl was the focus of your attention, now that she is out of your grasp you have lost interest in her."

"She's not the one in control, she couldn't do anything for us," Samuel spouted.

"But, you would have used her as a pawn," Ed commented.

"I do what I feel is necessary to accomplish what I feel is best for my country," Samuel said.

"I imagine you and your associates do really believe your attitudes are for the country." The President paused. "But, I assure you, there are quite different assessments of what is really best. I would also like to remind you; there is a young man out there, somewhere, with all the cards in his favor. You would do well to consider his opinion of the situation, and, I strongly advise that you and Mr. Defense here," the President pointed at Atkins, "get together with your gang of thugs and consider his proposals. Remember, he can wipe your asses anytime he feels like it."

"I appreciate your candor, and I will definitely take into consideration what has been said here," Samuel said as he got up from the table.

"Not so fast! I want you and Ed to stay," the President said to the Secretary of State.

"But, Mr. President, I have many things to do," Samuel squawked.

"Sit down." The President didn't raise his voice, but turned to Atkins. "Mr. Atkins, please close the door behind you, and bear in mind, I am going to do everything in my power to make you pay for the five lives you so blatantly took!"

Samuel took his seat and waited with an annoyed look on his face.

"Okay, now I can't order you directly, you know that, but I can strongly suggest that you strongly consider what I'm going to tell you." The President paused as he looked Samuel Steiner over. "I want you to reverse your people, and whatever policy has been decided."

"It's out of my hands because the security of this great nation has been threatened, and that's that," Samuel stated.

"That's your final word?" the President asked.

"It is out of my hands, I'm sorry, Sir. I must leave immediately. Is that okay with you two?" Samuel said as he stood up.

"Get out!" the President shouted. "And, I hope you realize this confirms we are at opposite ends of the field," the President added, as the Secretary walked out the door.

"You're a weak man!" Samuel said as he hurried out into the hall, Atkins was waiting outside.

"I wonder were all this will take us?" the President questioned Ed.

"I don't know, but do you want to talk to the kid?" Ed asked.

"It's about that time. I'm looking forward to it. You set it up as you see fit, okay Ed?" the President said.

"Yes, Sir, I'll talk to him as soon as I can. He guarantees me that the other party, the brother, is close to neutralized. All that's left are the negotiations, and the decision on what can be done with the civilians," Ed said.

"I'm getting serious about locking Samuel in a room with a pissed off Clank!" The President snarled.

"I'll talk to Tim."

Chapter 32

The Deal

Arty was getting out of the TT Fighter for the second time that day. He had just tried to go out again, but the Pod had followed him, again. This time it had applied a tractor beam to his TT Fighter and he was unable to go anywhere. He had spent the better part of an hour flying around in a slow circle with his engines at full power, only miles from the base. He couldn't understand it because Tim was gone. He had accomplished that, and he was close to acquiring the necessary information to get into the Secret Place. He was certain the codes to the entire base were just a matter of hours away.

In the first flight of the day, the Pod had followed him and pulled the same stunts as the first time he had seen it, throwing protective screens around anything he approached. But, since the morning flight, he had accessed more of Whuc Seaacki's information and frequencies. After the morning flight he had returned to work on interrupting the signals sent from the Pod and was certain, when he went out again, he would be able to defeat the Pod's program. Instead of success, he had taken a step backwards. There had to be an answer. How was the Pod being reprogrammed? Was this Duo that powerful? Was it able to change its program itself? He wasn't too worried though, but it was just frustrating. He consoled himself with the fact that when he did get the codes, he would have it all.

He looked back down the runway. He had not bothered to close the large door to the outside. It wasn't necessary because any humans coming within fifty miles of Whuc Seaacki became severely ill. Another interesting ability of this Duo character, he could not explain, but was looking forward to sharing. The Pod was hovering halfway down almost on the green cross that was the marker for proper landings. It was in the same spot it had stayed between his first flight, that morning, and the second he had just completed. It was programmed to stay with the TT Fighter, Tim had told him it would do that, but to have it just sitting there was getting to be an annoyance.

But it would be his sometime soon so he floated on the flight deck, admiring it. He was about to turn away when it suddenly darted at him, and before he could react it was there, between him and the tunnel entrance. It had moved in a blink of the eye. He was really looking forward to piloting this beautiful little craft.

"Good afternoon, 'Clank'," The voice that came from the craft startled the Man-machine because it was definitely Tim's. Clank had to admire the ex-Number One, he had prepared the Pod well.

The Man-machine turned to go.

"What, you don't want to stay and discuss your alternatives," the voice of Tim said.

The Man-machine paused for a moment, but then continued on.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Tim's voice said loudly.

The Man-machine stopped and turned.

"That's better. Now, how are we going to settle this problem? I already told you, I'm going to blow this place. Do you want to take my deal, or do you want to stay and go with it? It's up to you."

"This program you are running will do you no good. Within a few hours, I will have the codes, and you will be my computer," Clank said.

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" Tim's voice asked.

"I presume Duo," Clank answered.

"You presumed wrong. You really thought you got rid of me, didn't you?"

"Do not try to fool me, Tim was destroyed!" Clank exclaimed.

"Then how come I'm still here?" The upper portion of the Pod became transparent. Clank looked at the individual sitting inside. It was an image of Tim.

"I hope you do not expect to trick me with this kind of dribble?" the Man-machine said annoyed.

"I see your point. It's so easy to construct illusions in this place. It makes it hard to believe what you see. You can never really tell what's real and what's not. Like, was I really in that engine room, or wasn't I?" Tim's voice asked sarcastically. "What do you think?"

"I am not interested in this game," the Man-machine said as it turned and rushed through the back of the flight deck and was gone.

A soft pop sounded, and the back of the Pod opened up. Tim stood up and climbed over the side, then down on to the floor of the flight deck.

"Just in case you're wondering, Mr. V wasn't the only one that could make replicas," Tim said because he knew Clank was watching. "Also, the second power generator can't be switched on until the first goes off. You made that mistake the first time you suckered me in there."

Tim immediately transported himself down to Darnan-elio and waited.

*

Two hours and some minutes later, Duo advised him the time was at hand. Clank had some more codes and thought he might be close to transporting himself to Donnart-Ele-Io.

Duo transported Tim to the Man-machine instead.

"Surprised to see me?" Tim materialized in front of Clank.

"You did pull a fast one on me, congratulations. I am actually glad to see you are still here. I was wondering how the Pod was able to counter my progress. It had to be you, I should have known."

"Sure, I had everything to do with it," Tim said, gleefully.

"Why do you insist on meddling in my affairs?"

"I don't see it that way."

"You do not have any interest in this facility. You spend all your time in your Secret Place."

"Which keeps me in total contact and control," Tim responded quickly. "That's how I was able to wreck your meeting. You're going to have a hell of a time getting them back here."

"How true, boy, they were sick. I have to tip my hat to you on that one."

Hey, Clank almost sounds human.

"And, if you are getting any ideas about meeting someplace else, I can be there too."

"I know that!" Clank snapped.

Now he sounds totally human, genuinely ticked off.

"Why don't you give up then?"

"Because Timmy my boy, I have been at work. I can do that twenty-three hours a day. Do you know what that means?"

"I give up," Tim laughed.

"You are not as smart, or tough as you thought. I have attained the information necessary to gain access to your beloved Duo."

That is definitely a machine talking.

"I doubt it," Tim said nonchalantly.

"Shall we go now, or do you want me to lead?" the Man-machine gloated.

"That's impossible," Tim declared.

"You are right, of course. I cannot go there on my own, yet, but I can follow. That is why I am glad to see you, really I am. After I thought I got rid of you, I was so proud of myself. Then I found out it would be quicker to follow you to Donnart-Ele-Io than it would be to get the codes to go on my own. I can follow you anywhere you go now. Of course, you don't have to go there, but within a few more hours I will have all the codes, and then I can go on my own. Got you," the Man-machine bragged.

Tim stood, just looking at Clank, then without notice began to shimmer, getting ready to transport.

Clank also began to shimmer.

Tim materialized deep in the forest.

A moment later, Clank materialized right in front of him. "Nothing to say, I see. Well, be seeing you around."

"Wait!" Tim said.

Clank stopped and spoke. "I am not in the mood to dicker."

"I figured that. What do you want?"

"Total control."

"I don't trust you."

"I do not want anything from your little group in here, or the much larger one outside. I will get nothing out of cruelty to them, or any other living thing. I believe they deserve to decide their own destinies."

"I know that! For God's sake, that's the point I've been trying to make all along. Do your thing and leave them out of it, that's all I wanted."

"Good, now we are getting somewhere. It is time! The world is in trouble, and it needs me," the Man-machine prophesied.

"Do I have anything to say?"

"I respect your judgment, I have told you that before."

"But, will I have any vote in anything."

"I do not know, but I might listen," the Man-machine conceded.

Tim stood, thinking, for close to a minute.

Clank also remained patient.

"Follow me," Tim finally said.

Tim initiated the transfer with Clank right behind him.

Tim materialized in the white void of the molecular dissimulator, followed by Clank a second later.

"This is it?" Clank asked, looking around puzzled.

"This is it," Tim said, gesturing with his arms and then letting out a big sigh.

"Some place you have got here," the Man-machine commented cynically.

"It suits my purposes, especially now," Tim said confidently.

"Well, let us get on with it," the Man-machine said, his voice transmitting anxiousness all through its tone and delivery.

"This is about it, but I have to explain a few things first, okay?"

"I guess so, but do not take too long," Clank said impatiently.

"We are inside the machine that transports me everywhere."

"And what does that mean?"

Do I detect some hostility building in Clank's voice? I think he's wondering if I might have tricked him."

"It means, 'that', this is where you will stay, until I decide what to do with you."

"That is ludicrous, remember I can follow you!" The Man-machine shouted.

"Not from here. If I would've taken you to Donnart-Ele-Io, the Secret Place, that would have been true, but you see this place is different."

"I know of no such place!"

"You weren't supposed to because you've been set up. Welcome to your new home," Tim said quietly. I should be elated because this is the first time since I came here that I feel completely comfortable. I beat him, I really did. I should be jumping for joy, but I just don't feel like it. The saga of Timtown is winding down and it makes me sad because I will miss this place.

Clank didn't say anything, but Tim knew he was trying to transfer himself out because Clank's figure would go slightly out of focus, for a second, and then as quickly, solidify.

"It won't work," Tim said calmly. "Duo and I have been dictating your actions for some time now. We've been leading you around, getting you to do what we wanted you to. Giving you codes, and making you think you were accomplishing something."

"So what have you really gained? I can still follow, eventually," Clank didn't sound confident.

"Nope, and I'll tell you why. Because Clank, you are 'in' the molecular dissimulator. You know that don't you?"

The Man-machine said nothing.

"You see, molecular dissimulation is really far out. You transfer the molecules of solid matter into energy, and then you send that encoded energy to where ever you want, and presto, from point A to point B, just like that. But, the kicker, and you're going to love this, is you can transfer that energy into the dissimulator and store it. Incidentally the dissimulator can also separate specific energy. Go ahead, try to use your laser. It won't work because it's not here with you."

Clank was silent for ten-seconds, then spoke. "I can still follow, when you leave."

"Guess again! You see Clank, you have followed me to the one place only I have control. You don't have the codes, yet, and you can't get out to work, to get them. I can't believe you could be manipulated so easily."

"I'll get out, you can't hold me for long."

"You don't get it, do you? We set you up! You were in such a hurry that you took the short cut we planned for you, and you are now completely out of contact with Whuc Seaacki."

Clank was silent for a moment, but in a flash he rushed Tim, closing the ten feet in less than a second. Before Tim could react, Clank had him around the neck with one of the mechanical hands. Clank picked Tim completely off his feet.

Clank said nothing as he applied pressure to Tim's neck. The protection field surrounding Tim held at first, but Clank's mechanical hand began to overpower the field, gradually cutting off the air. Just as Tim was about to lose consciousness, Clank relaxed the pressure enough for Tim to get some air.

"If you kill me, you will be here forever," Tim managed to gasp, "'trapped', with no way out."

"I would figure out how to escape," Clank said, releasing the pressure even more.

"No Clank, there would be no way out of here, and eternity is a long time to spend in the same spot. I don't know how you work, but even you would eventually die here."

Clank released Tim, and Tim fell to the floor. Clank rose higher, hovering over Tim. "I can hurt you, force you to comply!" Clank threatened, moving down closer with both mechanical hands extended, a cruel sinister look on his face.

"You can try!" Tim yelled defiantly, pulling himself up to his elbows, and firing both hand weapons at Clank, ducking his head at the same time.

There was a blinding flash, and a powerful wave of heat struck Tim. The force of both lasers flung Clank back twenty feet. Tim looked at the Man-machine who still floated in the air, but was surrounded with a glowing corona.

"You fool! I can destroy you, and you refuse me!" Clank's voice boomed out. Then Clank moved slowly toward Tim. Tim pointed both his hands, ready to fire again.

The Man-machine stopped ten feet away. "Why are you so determined, so stubborn?" Clank sounded flustered. "It does not make any difference to you. Your position is guaranteed so why fight me?"

"Because somebody has to!" Tim exclaimed, getting to his knees. "You're not of this world Clank, and you made the decision."

"I was suffering and I wanted this." Clank gestured to his mechanical body with one of the mechanical arms.

"No one is trying to take it back!" Tim exclaimed.

"But you are trying to keep me from my rightful destiny?"

"I was the one that gave you the chance, gave you your life back. Now you say I'm in the wrong, that I stand in your way?" Tim laughed cynically.

"I was in a hurry," Clank said calmly, just floating. "You planned all this well."

"Thank you, but I had the advantage all along because I had help. Do you know who it was?" Tim said, standing up.

"The child," Clank said softly.

"Yeah Jeremy. You knew he was special. How come you didn't do anything about him?"

"He was a child, I did not take him serious."

"He was out of your league, I think."

"Yes, I have made a mistake, I know that now."

"What mistake?"

"I was so impressed with the capabilities of Mr. V, but he turned out to be only a machine. I was presented with two possibilities: one, a very advanced and powerful computer, and two, a little boy. A confusing little boy that appeared to be mentally deficient and lived in a world completely alone. I wanted to be like the machine, not the little boy. I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"I was fooled too. I would have never thought that Jeremy was capable of what he has done."

"You still performed well. What now?" the Man-machine asked.

"Leave! Go! Find somewhere, somewhere where you might fit in."

"Yes, that would be best. You can give me that?"

"Yes, the Deep Space Probe."

"It is here then?"

"Yes, and I have a deal."

"Is it a good one?" the Man-machine asked.

"I think so," Tim answered.

"I might as well hear it," the Man-machine said sounding human.

Chapter 33

Tim & The President

The security phone on the President's desk rang, interrupting the meeting in the President's office. With the President were: Ed Adams, Samuel Steiner, and three other individuals.

"Just a minute Sam," the President said to the Secretary of State as he picked up the phone and listened.

"Yes, I understand," The President paused. "Well, get on it, and keep me informed."

The President replaced the phone with a smirk on his face. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the White House Security has been breached."

"Breached Mr. President?" Samuel asked, an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"Yes, breached. Someone is inside," the President replied, looking straight at Samuel.

"Who?" the President's Press Aid asked excitedly.

"They don't know," the President answered.

"Well, they have him, don't they?" Samuel asked nervously.

"No," the President responded.

"No, then how do they know somebody's inside?" his Press Aid asked, gulping the question.

"They have been tracking someone on the motion detectors," the President advised. "They can't see anyone, but the computer verifies it is a person walking, and whoever it is, they're headed this way."

"It's a malfunction Mr. President, it has to be," Samuel stated, small beads of perspiration appearing on his forehead.

"Either that or we are about to meet Tim, I would guess," Ed said, with a big grin.

"If he's right, for god's sake Samuel, behave yourself," The President winked at Ed.

Samuel saw this. "Oh shit!" his voice trembled. "Do you think he's after me?"

"Wouldn't surprise me a bit, Sam," the President said, as the phone rang again.

"Yes, yes of course Major, I understand," the President said into the mouth piece.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the President addressed everyone in his office, "Major Sorrell is quite upset, and needs to confer with me, please remain seated."

The door opened, and a Marine Major hurried through and headed directly to the President. "I'm sorry for the interruption Mr. President, but I have my orders."

"I understand Todd. Now what's happening out there?" the President asked.

"I don't know Sir, it's really weird. I don't know what it could be, other than the invisible man, Sir." The Major let out a small laugh. "But we have checked and rechecked all the systems, and they are operational."

A beeper went off. The Major quickly brought up the radio in his left hand and spoke into it.

"Yes," he shouted, "what is it?"

"No change in status!" was broadcast back through the radio.

"I see! You're sure?" Major Sorrell answered.

"I'm sorry Sir, but the system is okay and it still detects the same thing," came back through the radio.

The Major was getting real excited and he shouted back into the radio. "Sergeant, how can the system be okay? Is there anyone there?"

"No Sir, I still can't see anybody," the voice over the radio replied.

"Sergeant, that is impossible! Are you losing your mind?" the Major shouted. He turned to the President. "Mr. President, I don't know how to explain this. I'm really sorry. I ah, ah, um, I don't know what's going on. According to the motion detectors someone is heading down the hall straight toward us, but no one is there. It doesn't make any sense, Mr. President."

"Maybe it does Major, just maybe it does," the President said quietly. He looked at Samuel as he finished, and could tell the Secretary was uncomfortable. Samuel Steiner was sweating profusely and squirming in his chair. Ed Adams, standing against the fireplace, on the verge of laughing was enjoying what was happening, immensely.

"Huh?" Major Sorrell questioned.

"It might make more sense in a few moments, Todd," the President comforted.

"I'm sorry Sir, but I don't understand? I ah, I think we should leave," the Major said.

"No Major, I think we should stay," the President returned.

"But, Sir, my orders are—"

"We will be staying Major, we have a very important meeting to attend."

The radio in the Major's hand beeped again.

"Where are you Sergeant?" he said into it.

"Walking along side whatever is causing the problem, Sir, and the motion detectors are monitoring me correctly."

"Well, who, or what are you walking along with, Sergeant?" the Major asked, sounding apprehensive and impatient.

"There's no one here, Sir. Ah, I can't see anyone, I meant, Sir."

"Are you losing your mind Sergeant?"

"No Sir!"

"Then make some sense, there can't be anyone there. Have you—"

"I hate to interrupt, Sir," there was uncertainty in the Sergeant's voice, "but there is something here, it just touched me. What do you want me to do, Sir?"

The group in the office could clearly hear the excitement in the Sergeant's voice. The President made a mental note to commend the security team. They had not been briefed about Timtown and they were holding on, in what must be a tremendously, frightening experience for them.

"Sir, we must evacuate immediately!" Major Sorrell shouted as he vaulted the President's desk, landing in the waste basket on the other side, tripping and stumbling forward, finally coming to rest in the fireplace. Ed had to jump quickly to avoid the out of balance Major. Luckily it was daytime, and there was no fire. The Major jumped up, retraced his erratic steps, and placed himself between the President and the door.

"Sir, I insist, we must leave now! It is my job!" the Major pleaded.

"Major please, your job description doesn't include what is about to take place. No one has briefed you on this, please trust me," the President said as he tried to dodge Major Sorrell's attempts to grab him and throw him to the floor.

"But, Sir!"

"Major," the President countered, "I realize you have had nothing to do for a long time, but trust me, it is still pertinent to do nothing, and this time you will really be earning your money. I promise."

"But, Mr. President, it's my—"

The Major was interrupted by a sharp pop. Everyone turned their heads quickly, as the door to the office flew off its hinges and crashed to the floor. Everyone in the room dove toward the floor, except the President who remained seated, Major Sorrell who flung himself on the desk between the door and the President, and Ed Adams who was still standing off to the side, laughing.

"Down!" the Major ordered. The President didn't respond, and the Major began to grab at him again.

"Major!" the President shouted. "Major!" the President yelled again, as the Major continued to try to wrestle him to the floor. "Major, this is a direct order, let me loose! Major, I command you to stand at attention!" They were both halfway to the floor, face to face. "Major, please listen to me. We have a guest. You haven't been briefed properly. I'm sorry, but I have been expecting this. Not to worry, I'm perfectly safe, I can assure you, but, I want to thank you for your dedication to duty. Now stand up, that is an order."

The Major looked the President straight in the eyes.

"It's okay Major," the President added. "I promise, I will be safe. Now, let's welcome our guest."

"Yes Sir, if you say so, Sir. Are you sure about this?" The Major's voice was shaky.

The President gave the Major a long, reassuring look as they got to their feet. "If I'm wrong Major, I promise you can chew my ass out later."

"Oh, why did I ever hope to make Colonel?" the Major commented.

The President stood up behind his desk and looked toward the door laying on the floor. The Sergeant he had heard on the Major's radio was standing in the open space, created when the door was blown off its hinges. The Sergeant was crouched in a defensive stance and was turning in an arch with his pistol trust out in front of him. He had both a confused and a determined look on his face.

"Sergeant, I think you should put your weapon down. There's nothing to be concerned about," Ed, who was closest to him, said.

Ed realized how foolish the statement must have sounded to the Sergeant, when the Sergeant looked at him with a, 'what the hell are you saying', look on his face.

"Sergeant, please trust what he says," the President added. "Major, can you explain to the Sergeant that there is nothing to worry about?"

The President could see the Major was also in a state of confusion. He looked around the room and saw everyone but Ed and the President had found a safe place, and were content to remain there until the situation was fixed.

Samuel Steiner was crouched behind the President's desk, looking around. He was obviously scared shitless.

"Tim!" Samuel sputtered nervously. "Look, Tim, I'm sorry about the, ah, little misunderstanding. I was kind of, ah, in, a catch twenty-two, ah, situation. If I hadn't done what I did, and, ah, you turned out to be not, ah, what you are, I would have been in a, ah, messy position. I hope you will forgive me. I hope, ah, I didn't cause you or your friends, ah, too much trouble."

"Samuel, I must compliment you on your incredible ability to grovel, when you deem it necessary," the President said.

"Thank you Sir, that is a compliment to a real politician, I think?" Samuel said with a weak little laugh.

"I get to meet my first politician, I should be excited," a voice said from the middle of the room.

Everyone's eyes darted to the location the sound came from. The Sergeant pointed his gun there. The Major was about to draw his, but the President put his hand on the Major's holster, signaling him to keep the weapon there.

"But, I'm really not impressed," the voice added.

"Tim, I'm glad I get to finally meet you," the President said.

"Nice to meet you too. What am I supposed to call you?"

"Mr. President is customary."

"Nice to meet you 'Mr. President', and how do I address the groveler?"

"Tim meet Samuel," the President laughed.

Everyone in the room was frozen in their respective spots, except Ed, as the President of the United States carried on a conversation with an invisible person. The Major was watching the President intently with his mouth open. The Sergeant still had the gun in his hand, but had lowered it.

Two more Marines rushed into the room with weapons at the ready, but stopped when the Major held up his hand.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you, 'Samuel'," Tim said, still invisible. "You have caused some problems, all right, but everything is fine now. Luckily you didn't get your way."

The two Marines just entering, jumped back, and moved their eyes to the location where they thought the voice had come from.

"I'm sorry, but your story sounded a little hard to believe at first," Samuel said, a little more confident.

"And, now?"

"I'm talking into thin air, aren't I?" Samuel said.

"Mr. President, could we talk in privacy?" Tim requested. "I don't think I want to explain the situation to more people than necessary."

"Yes, of course, although I would like to have Samuel remain."

"Oh, I 'definitely' want his 'sorry ass' here!" Tim agreed with a sarcastic tone. "And Ed of course," he said with a friendly tone.

"Ha, hey," Sam gulped, as he gave the President a concerned look.

"Mr. President, I must protest this—" Major Sorrell protested as he stepped forward.

"And you should," the President interrupted.

"This is completely inappropriate," the Major countered.

"Clear this room, and that is an order!" the President barked back. "Major, will you and the Sergeant please escort all the personnel out of this office."

"Mr. Pres—"

"Major, you have your orders! Now carry them out!"

The Major hesitated, looking concerned, not knowing how to proceed.

"Major?" The President looked straight at the Major while gestured toward the door with his hands, his eyes, and a nod of his head.

"Yes, Sir! All right, you heard the man. Sergeant, let's clear this room. These people have some work to do, and we are in the way."

"Good Major, and when you have all the personnel down the hall, please make sure the Sergeant and his men don't allow them or anyone else back in. Then, I would like you to return, alone. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" The Major shouted with great relief.

The Marine Officer shuffled everyone out the door and then followed.

"When Major Sorrell returns, could you make an appearance for his sake, he takes his job too serious?" The President directed his request toward where he thought Tim was.

"Yes, Sir, I understand," Tim said as he deactivated his cloaking.

Everyone was expecting Tim to be where his voice was coming from.

"Over here fellows."

Both the President and Samuel jumped, and then turned around to see Tim standing across the room, next to the far window.

"Ah, of course, I should have suspected as much. You have a lot more tricks than I could ever imagine, yes?" The President said with a chuckle.

"Did you really think I would trust Sam?" Tim asked.

"Oh no, he is definitely not to be trusted. I can appreciate that," the President answered.

"I was just doing my job," Sam whined.

"I know 'that' to be a bunch of crap," Tim said, as Major Sorrell returned to the office.

The Marine Major stopped on top of the blown down door and looked at Tim.

"Major, this is Tim, the cause of all your concern," the President said.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Major Sorrell responded, reaching for his weapon at his side. "I must ask you about your intentions, and I must know if you are armed?" he continued, drawing the pistol from its holster.

"Nice to meet you, also," Tim answered, "and yes, I am armed, and I intend to stay that way. But, I can assure you, I will not harm anyone."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I cannot allow that! You must surrender your weapons!" the Major ordered forcefully, pointing his pistol at Tim.

"Major, Major!" the President shouted. "That is not necessary. That is an order! Now Major," the President spoke calmly. "I must insist that you retire to the end of the hall and allow us to commence with our business."

"Sir, I cannot! You must understand?" The Major was obviously going to stand his ground.

"Major, I gave you a direct order, now follow it! Major, I'm talking to you," the President demanded, but the Marine was not going to back down. "Major! I'm speaking to you. Get the hell out of here!"

The Major just stood there not moving a muscle.

The President rose to his feet and was on his way toward Major Sorrell.

"Sir, Mr. President." Tim moved toward the President and the Major. "Sir, I've taken care of the problem. Don't be mad at the Major, Sir, because I used one of my tricks. The Major won't know a thing."

"How did you do that?" Samuel asked.

"Would you like to find out?" Tim turned to look at Samuel who immediately cowered. "I don't think you would understand," Tim added, "and we don't have the time to go into it."

Tim turned back to the President. "Please excuse me for being so abrupt, but there are some things we must take care of. This is really important."

"Yes, I can see that. You have my undivided attention young man," the President said.

"Can I interject here?" Samuel asked.

"What's on your mind?" the President asked.

"Look, Harold, Tim, understand, I'm a manipulative, conniving, selfish, self-centered, old, son-of-a-bitch which makes me smart enough to know when my talents are challenged. Are you going to try to con an old con, or are you on the up and up?" Samuel spoke the last part directly to Tim.

"Mr. Steiner," Tim returned, obviously annoyed. "I don't have to con anyone here. If you're the expert you claim, you should know that. I had a problem, and you could have been the solution, but no. You didn't exactly cause the problem, but you sure stirred it up, and now it is time that you just listened."

"And if I don't play along?" Samuel asked.

"Kiss your self-centered, old, son-of-a-Bitch ass goodbye!" Tim spoke menacingly.

There was silence in the room. Samuel stared intently at Tim for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the President, then back to Tim.

"You're not bullshitting are you? I mean about being pissed," Samuel said.

"No, I'm not!" Tim confirmed.

"And how serious could the wrong outcome have been?" the President asked.

"Ha, ha, ha," Tim laughed, "let's just say; you're damn lucky I ended up winning."

"I ah, I still can't go with that because we were offered some pretty impressive things, and as I see it, you spoiled it for all of us," Samuel pontificated.

"Those promises may have been bogus," Tim commented.

"Can you prove that?" Samuel shouted.

"I don't have to," Tim growled, glaring at Samuel. "Do you have any doubts about my abilities?"

"You kidding?" Samuel said as he gestured toward the Major who was still at attention, and definitely under Tim's control.

"Then 'what is' your problem?" Tim asked Samuel.

"I just want to guarantee the best deal for my country," Samuel spouted.

"Is this guy for real?" Tim looked at Ed, shaking his head.

"Hard to believe, huh?" Ed laughed.

"Gentlemen, what you have seen so far is nothing. I'm here to—"

"You haven't answered my question," Samuel interrupted.

"Mr. Steiner," Tim looked at him, shaking his head, "maybe you don't understand the moment."

"I don't understand?" Samuel snorted.

"Explain it to him." Tim turned to Ed.

"Sam," Ed hesitated, thinking, "what Tim is trying to get through that thick skull of yours, 'is', he is not here to negotiate with you or anybody else. He is here to tell us 'what is what', understand."

"Mr. President!" Samuel shrieked. "Are you going to allow this! In this, the most exalted office in the world."

"It was, until he came along." The President pointed at Tim.

"Mr. President!" Samuel shouted.

"Oh, climb down, you're making a fool of yourself," the President scolded. "Ed explained it to you, just listen for a change."

Samuel was shaking his head. "But, he still doesn't have any proof that he's in charge!"

"I'm here, the other guy isn't, period," Tim said, trying not to sound exasperated at the stubbornness.

"The other guy, your brother," the President said.

"Close. It used to be my brother, and the thing that used to be my brother came damn close to getting what 'it' wanted."

"Can you prove it would have turned out bad?" Ed asked.

"I can't tell you what would have happened, for sure," Tim answered, "like Sam here seems to know, but, I don't think it would have had a happy ending if it had gotten his way."

"I still can't believe that." Samuel broke in. "I think he was just an excuse of yours."

"You think I made him up?" Tim laughed. "You don't give up, do you?"

"No, I want the truth! We know you snatched him from the VA hospital, and that he was a quadriplegic—" Samuel stopped.

"And?" Tim said after a moment, when Samuel didn't continue.

"And you tell me, you're the big shot," Samuel spouted.

"I don't see what you're getting at?" Tim questioned.

"Your brother was very sick, and you took him out of that hospital," Samuel said in an accusatory tone.

"He was dying, I had no other choice."

"What I want to know, is he still alive?" Samuel asked, reinvigorated by his new direction.

"He is!" Tim said seriously.

"I would like to talk to him, to confirm that," Samuel said quickly.

"I can arrange that," Tim said.

"When?" Samuel asked.

"Right now, if you want?"

"In person?" Samuel questioned.

"That's possible," Tim said and snapped his fingers. A large twelve foot square hologram popped into existence in the middle of the office. It showed nothing but a white, empty cube.

"I'm not going for any of your trickery, I'm sorry," Samuel said with a smile, looking at the empty scene.

"Arty is somewhere where he will stay, for now. You don't want to be in there with him, or do you?" Tim said with a smile. "He is 'really, really pissed' and looking for someone to blame, I would think."

"I think you are full of shit!" Samuel shouted. "I think you killed your brother, and this whole thing has been one big cover up."

"For what purpose?" Tim asked.

"I can only speculate, you're the one with everything," Samuel said.

"That is so dear to you!" Tim shot back immediately.

"I'm no different than anyone else, I just have the honesty to admit it," Samuel said as he puffed out his chest.

"I think you really believe that, but I don't have enough experience to really argue the point. I'm only fifteen, but I can guarantee you one thing, though," Tim paused.

"And what is that young man?" Samuel snorted.

"Your attitude, combined with your ignorance, would have gotten your ass in a world of shit this time around," Tim said, laughing as he gestured with his head toward the hologram.

"You can't prove that!" Samuel shouted, definitely insulted.

"Take a look." Tim said to Samuel who had not been watching the cube.

Samuel turned to look at the hologram, then gasped. There in the cube was the Man-machine, floating, and Clank didn't have a happy look on his face perched there on the metal cylinder.

"He's been cooped up in there for quite a while, want to join him?" Tim asked Samuel.

"I, ah, I um, I don't see what that would accomplish?" Samuel stammered.

"What, you two could put your heads together and figure out something," Tim laughed. "I can have you there really quick, a matter of seconds, actually."

Tim could see the President, and Ed laughing.

Tim pointed his right hand at the Secretary of State.

Samuel Steiner dropped down to the floor and scurried behind the coffee table that was closest to him.

"Nothing else to say?" Ed asked as he looked down around the table to the Secretary.

"Hell no, do you think I'm completely nuts?" Samuel whispered at Ed.

"Is that it from him?" The President asked Ed.

"I imagine, for now anyway," Ed answered.

"Good, we need to get on with this," the President said as he turned to Tim. "Can we start at the beginning?"

"I was born in Wisconsin and—"

The President held up his hand. "Look, Son, I appreciate your lightness about all this, and I also have a sense of humor, but let's be real serious. We need to know."

"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry."

*

Tim started with a brief explanation of how he and Ann first explored the mountains. The President sat back and listened. Samuel Steiner crawled over to a couch and sat with his back against it, and he too listened.

Tim explained the earthquake, and the subsequent things that led up to the discovery of Timtown. He was explaining Mr. V.

"Can we meet him?" Samuel asked from around the table.

"No!" Tim stated.

"Why?" Samuel returned, annoyed.

"Because he is gone! That was one of the things Arty accomplished. He completely took over. He became Mr. V," Tim sounded sad. "Besides, would you have him turn over all his power to someone like you?"

"He gave it to you!" Samuel said.

"I'm not like you, and that's why I'm here now. If I was like you, I would be—" Tim hesitated, not knowing how to continue.

"You'd be dangerous beyond imagination," the President jumped in.

"I'm not that bad, honest," Samuel tried to defend himself. "It's just all my life I have fought and fought for power and now I'm looking at real power. Power that I can only imagine, and you tell me that I can never even hope to attain it, let alone understand it. Give me a break!" Samuel wailed.

"You sure consider yourself special." Tim said.

"We all do Son!" Samuel spouted.

"No, no, you're different. You're kind of like what my brother became. There's something there, something I can feel," Tim said. "And I don't like it!" he added threateningly at Sam.

"Boy, has he got you pegged," the President said to Sam.

"I still say we're all alike!" Samuel argued vigorously.

"Mr. V told me once, 'People that think they are above others do so because they can't conceive of anyone not thinking like they do.'"

"That's Bullshit!" Sam announced.

"You just proved his point," Ed laughed.

"What are you getting at?" Samuel scoffed at him.

"You don't trust anyone because deep down inside; you know you can't be trusted," Tim offered.

"He got you," the President announced. "Can we continue with the story?" he asked Tim.

"Mr. V knew about Arty," Tim continued, "and he knew Arty was dying so he wanted to know if I wanted to help him. I had no other choice, he was my brother. It just went bad from there. If I had known what was going to happen to Arty," Tim pointed to the hologram, "believe me, I would have never, ever done it."

"What happened to Arty, how did he end up like that?" the President asked, also pointing to the hologram.

*

Tim went back to his entering Timtown. He explained the experience of dying and the euphoria he experienced.

"Mr. V repaired Arty, but instead of rejuvenating Arty's old body, ah, I don't know how to explain this. I don't know if Arty told Mr. V, or Mr. V suggested this. I don't know how it happened, but Arty is now just his head with a mechanical body, and he went out of control."

"I would like to hear 'that' from Arty. That's the only way I'll go for this song and dance," Samuel stated.

"I am trying to explain to you," Tim said to Samuel who was still partially behind the table, "I have confined Arty, and unless you want to be put in with him, a rather pissed off Man-machine, I'd cut the crap,"

"That's a story, I know it is. You're not fooling me. Not one bit!" Samuel shouted.

"Will you shut up!" the President also shouted, finally fed up with the continual politicking. "We're trying to get to the bottom of all this, and you keep interfering. If you don't quit, I'll have you removed."

"You can't do that, and you know it!" Samuel stood up quickly from behind the table and glared at the President. Clank suddenly appeared behind Samuel. The President and Ed gasped at the sight of the Man-machine floating there in the office. Samuel realized there was something behind him because everyone was looking there. He turned and let out a shriek, stumbling to get away.

"Holy Mother of God!" the President stated.

"This is what we would have had to deal with?" Ed asked, almost whispering.

"This is just another trick, this ca—Harold!" Sam cried as he began to shake. "Harold, don't let him, don't let—" Sam's voice began to fade, "Don't let—you'll be sorry." Sam said in a whisper as he sank to the floor.

"Is he going to be okay?" The President asked Tim.

"Yeah, but you'd better get yourself a new Secretary of State, this one's not going to remember a thing."

"Let's continue," the President said, watching to see if the vision of Clank was going to do something, or just remain where it was.

*

Tim continued with his experiences inside Whuc Seaacki. When he had gotten to the point of finally confining Clank, he stopped. That's when the apparition of Clank disappeared.

"Ed has filled you in?" Tim asked.

"Pretty much. I'm not clear on what you want to do with the civilians? There was some questions there," the President said.

"I wasn't sure, but since I've gotten the Man-machine stored away, I've had a little time to think, and I will take care of them myself."

"I've noticed the pain in your voice when you said Man-machine. It must be hard to see your brother, hard to see what he's become."

"Yeah, it sure didn't turn out the way I had hoped."

"What are you going to do with him?" the President asked.

"I ah, I can't really tell you."

"That's what Ed said, and I won't push you on it. Can you guarantee he will cause no more problems?" the President asked.

"Yes."

"And you are comfortable with your plans for the civilians?"

"Yes."

"Then all there is to do is to inform you that your claim of sovereignty has been reviewed, and has been granted. It wasn't easy, but no one in this present government wanted to be troubled with it anymore, except the power monger there." The President pointed at Samuel. "I mean, the whole place is beach front, or worse, now. That headache scheme was brilliant. It's still in effect?"

"Yeah, it's been extended out to one hundred and fifty miles, and by the way, it was Ed's idea."

"He is an old fox. That's why, when he talks, I listen," the President said.

"Sir, I really must go," Tim said.

"I understand." The President stood up, as Tim began to shimmer. "One other thing, Son," he said before Tim completely disappeared. "I hope we can meet again, under calmer times."

*

"What do you know about his plans?" The President asked Ed, after Tim had left.

"Not too much."

"Hey, look, old fox, I don't expect much out of you now, but I will persist because you know a lot."

"Why do you think that?"

"You and the kid talked, out there."

"He didn't tell me much,"

"Is he going to?" the President asked.

"How, he's leaving?"

"How long before you see him again?"

"He didn't say," Ed said sadly, "but I get the distinct feeling it might be never. He's just a kid, but I think of him as a very mature person, someone that had the right makeup for the circumstances, and thank god for us."

"I forgot to ask Tim why Arty didn't make personal appearances?" the President asked. "That would have scared the shit out of everybody."

"Because he was afraid to leave Timtown," Ed answered.

"What, with everything he had?"

"When Arty removed his body, he was in a hurry and hooked up with Mr. V too fast, and limited himself, same as the computer. You see, Mr. V was responsible for the inside of the base only. Tim already had the Number One position so it negated any chance for Arty to get control until Tim was removed."

"Ah, boy did we get lucky," commented the President.

Chapter 34

Good-by Arty

"So you've got me stymied," the Man-machine said without emotion.

"On all issues my friend," Tim said with relief. They were in the large space port, the Deep Space Probe sitting on its legs fifty feet away, glowing slightly. The opening to the outside was open, the light spilling in.

"Are you going to destroy me?" the Machine asked.

"I think there's the alternative we already talked about. Do you still want the deal?"

"Of course. I have no other choice, but why would you do anything to help me?"

"I guess there are many reasons, but mostly because of Ann."

"She is lucky to have you as her friend."

"Yeah," Tim was going to comment about the outcome, but it will only make me sadder than I already am. "I want you to understand another reason I will help. It's the same reason I fought you, and why I had to win."

"I don't understand, I'm sorry," Clank confessed.

"Nobody has the right to control, or harm anybody else, it's that simple," Tim stated.

There was silence. Tim said nothing, as the Man-machine floated quietly. Tim could tell it was contemplating something.

"I understand," the Man-machine said after a while. "I believe I have found the difference between what I was, and what I became. I had too much time to do nothing after I crashed, and when you got me there was too much to do, and I rushed."

"Now I don't understand?" Tim said.

"I did not take the time to think about anything, but what I wanted. It is quite simple," the Man-machine said softly.

"A human mistake," Tim commented.

"Made by a machine, how ironic," the Man-machine seemed to chuckled. "May I go now?" it asked seriously.

"Yes, I have the Deep Space Exploration Vehicle ready."

"If I don't take your offer, you are positive, you will destroy me?"

"Yes, along with Whuc Seaacki. I have initiated the destruct sequence, and in thirty hours and some minutes Timtown will be gone."

"Where will you send me?"

"A course has been plotted out of this Solar System. In a set amount of time, the vehicle will respond to your commands. Then it will be up to you to do what you wish."

"I have no capability to feel any emotion toward you, but, as I told you before, you are an impressive individual. My memory banks contain a tremendous amount of information pertaining to you and your actions. If I am to deal with life forms ever again, I will use this information wisely. You have given me what I wanted most. I will remember what you have told me."

"I hope you'll find what you're looking for. The ship is waiting for you." I don't feel like a long good-by. I already went through one for Arty a while back.

"Clank!" Margie shouted, racing into the Space Port.

The Man-Machine stopped and turned to face her as she rushed toward him. Tim was surprised by her fervor, but said nothing.

"Hey Metal-Man, you owe me a favor before you haul ass out of here." Margie ran right up to him, face to face.

"And, what could I do for you?" Clank sounded neutral toward her.

"I want a ride!" Margie said excitedly, pointing up into the air.

"You do huh?" Clank replied as a small smile crept across his face.

"Ah Margie, I don't thi—" Tim tried to intervene.

"Hey, I want a ride," Margie cut him off, "and Arty here has agreed, right," she said, smiling at Clank.

"That's right Tim, I owe this lady the ride of her life," the Man-Machine said and started rising toward the ceiling of the Space Port. Margie was suddenly yanked off her feet and shot upwards, screaming with delight as she careened out past Clank, headed toward the ceiling.

Clank stopped his accent halfway to the roof, and Margie was whipped around his now stationary figure. She was at the top of the arch and was racing around Clank, now two hundred yards from him as he increased the arch.

Tim just stood there and watched, as she went into a second revolution.

It won't benefit Clank to harm Margie, and he always enjoyed doing this exact thing with the kids. Even at the height of our struggle, Clank still entertained the children. It will be a long time before this thing that used to be Arty will have a chance for human contact again, if ever.

Margie was having the time of her life, squealing, screaming and screeching with delight.

Tears came to Tim's eyes as he watched Margie sling toward the bottom of the arch. Instead of continuing up into a third revolution, Margie was flung in a horizontal line, speeding along the floor of the Space Port toward the large opening to the outside world. She was only inches above the floor, stretched out like an arrow, and traveling at least a couple of hundred miles an hour. Margie shot out of Timtown and into the brilliant sunlight.

Tim was about to react, becoming alarmed, when Margie's figure started to turn, her arms flinging out to the side like wings, and in a big sweeping half circle was headed back into the base.

Her screams of delight could still be heard as she was pulled back inside Timtown.

Margie's speed slowed and she was turned vertical. When the speed dropped enough, she touched down to the floor, ran, and then walked to the end of the ride. She was hunched over, catching her breath, when the Man-Machine floated over to her. She straightened up and accepted his outstretched mechanical hand. Margie rose up slightly off the floor, and she and Clank floated over to Tim. Margie with her extended hand, and Clank's acceptance had changed the light of the solemn departure now that the end was in motion.

"I couldn't let you go without that experience," she said, looking at Clank. "May your travels be satisfying." Margie turned and walked away, leaving Tim with his brother.

"You made a good choice," the Man-Machine said.

"She picked me," Tim replied.

Clank remained quiet for a moment, then said sincerely, "She made a good choice."

*

Tim transported Clank into the machine and started the launch sequence. The ugly crossed shaped ship began to hum and the glow increased as it lifted off the Space Port floor. The landing legs pulled back into the interior of the ship with a soft hiss, then the probe turned one hundred and eighty degrees and with its nose pointed toward the outside, glided down to the end of the Space Port which was opened this last time. Tim would close it and seal it forever after the Deep Space Probe was on its way into orbit.

Once in orbit the ship would then make its calculations and be on its way. It would take the ship about ten hours to completely clear Earth's gravitational field, and then the Warp Engines would engage. Any sooner, and the Warp Drive would disrupt the gravitational field of the entire planet. That in turn, would cause tidal waves, disrupt the weather for months, and worst of all, most mammalian females carrying a fetus would immediately miscarriage.

*

Tim stood at the end of the Space Port. He was standing next to the Deep Space Probe. It was ready to go in a little less than a minute. He looked out of the mountain, down at what was once his home town. He looked at what was left of his old life, of his old house, and reminisced for a moment. He knew he would never get to go back there. The fault had completely split down the North end of the valley, and the Plate that Timtown was on was sinking. The ocean had already claimed the Valley floor, and in a few days the water would reach the lower end of the cove.

He looked to Ann's house and thought about her. The plans to use Ann was the main reason Tim was now sending Clank away, instead of destroying him. When Steiner and General Miser decided to snatch her, Clank had not agreed with them. The Man-Machine had assured them he was going to complete his mission, and there was no reason to involve the girl. Tim didn't know if it was an act of kindness on the Man-Machine's part, or not. Margie felt that Clank had shown an honest affection for Ann, but maybe he just didn't consider her important to his objectives.

Tim was hoping the Man-Machine would seek his objectives without using any life forms he may come across in the future.

*

Tim had repeated the process with all the people left in Timtown, except the two that were going with him. He had placed them, as a group, in a town not too far from the one Ann was in now. They would start new lives, completely free from the old one. The pains of the past would never haunt them again.

*

The Probe signaled it was going. Tim walked to the side and watched as the machine glided out of the port and into the bright light of morning. The machine paused there for a second, then the Orbital Engines of the Probe fired, and the machine began to lift into the air.

"Good luck Big Brother!" Tim said, as the Deep Space Probe got smaller and smaller in the sky.

Tim looked one more time at his old house. "Good-bye Mom," he said and turned away.

*

"You took a hell of a chance?" Tim said to Margie. They were talking about Clank's ride.

"Not really. You know Clank only wanted control of the situation, never the dedication of the people involved. Besides, I always watch a person's eyes if I want to see inside them, and Clank's never portrayed any real evil"

"Smart lady. That's why I want you to have this choice. I think you deserve it," Tim said to Margie. He was in the process of buttoning up Timtown, and in sixteen hours it would be no more.

"Why are you allowing me to remember and tag along?" Margie asked.

"I guess, I need someone I can discuss this with. Of all the people I got to know, since this all began, you were the one that seemed to handle it best. I want to remember, and I don't want to be alone when I do. Do you mind?"

"No, I sure don't. I'm honored really. I mean look at what you've done. Your mother would be so proud of you."

Tim reflected back. "You know my mom was convinced that advanced aliens existed. She told me that it was ridiculous to think that we were the only intelligence in the Universe, considering how big it was. She said people that didn't believe were just afraid." Tim paused. "I wish she could have lived to see Timtown." He paused again. "Wow! But that's all in the past. In a few hours I'll be just a fifteen year old boy again."

"How hard is it to give it all up?"

"I don't know yet. Ask me when some bully wants to pound on me and I have to rely on my fists and my wits, only."

"You're really going to leave it all behind then?"

"Yeah, it's for the best."

"Might get a little rough out there. The world's all messed up you know," Margie said.

"Yeah, but we've got Jeremy."

*

Three people and a dog stand on a bluff overlooking a small city. There is a pretty woman in her early thirties, a young man, a small boy, and a medium sized dog called The Deputy. They are looking to the West as the sky erupts into dazzling colors. All the colors of the rainbow dance through the sky for a few seconds and then gradually dissipated. They remain, looking to the West until all the colors are gone, then turn and walk hand in hand down off the bluff, the dog in the lead.

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