Know It All

I haven't written on here in over three years. Heck, I haven't written in over three years. While that feels like a personal failure, it's also indicative of how busy my life has been. Anyways, I had the idea for this story on Monday and I've written and re-written it all week. I just had to get it out there. I hope you like it. Maybe there will be more on here, but I make no promises. :)


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A male of the Homo neanderthalensis species looked up from flattening the tall grasses to make his bed for the night. The flash of light he saw in the sky was pretty, but didn't hold the man's attention for long.

Nearly 250,000 years later, early in the year 1610, an Italian astronomer named Galileo Galilei was watching the planet Jupiter, looking for evidence of more moons orbiting the large gas giant. Suddenly, a small circular shadow began transiting the large planet. Galileo looked up from his telescope perplexed. The object was too large to be a moon of Jupiter and it was not in the plane of the rest of the moons he had already discovered. He looked back in the telescope and followed the object. After the object finished its transition in front of Jupiter, Galileo followed it. He could see it more clearly without the brightness of Jupiter behind it. It looked like a tiny moon, but was much closer than Jupiter. Galileo abandoned his exploration of Jupiter and tracked the object over the next few days. He traced its orbit over the next few weeks and ran and reran his calculations, but kept returning to the same conclusion. He had discovered a new satellite of Earth!

Just over three hundred years later, an R-7 rocket launched from a remote part of the Kazakh SSR. Aboard was humanity's first object to be launched into space. Eyes around the world watched in wonder, excitement and worry. Little did humanity know that they were not the only ones watching.

A decade later, a rocket launched from Cape Canaveral, Florida carrying three men destined to land on the moon. Once more, eyes all around the world watched this historic event. At a small communications relay station in Montana, Sergeant Robert Reed was watching the launch on his little black and white television as he listened for comm traffic. He heard a faint voice on his headphones. Shaking his head at being interrupted, he turned up the transmission and listened. The voice was repeating, "Stay tuned for an important transmission."

Robert cocked his head to the side. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something odd about the voice. He checked the frequency to make sure he was on the appropriate military frequency. He said into the microphone, "Unknown caller, please verify your identity and location."

He waited, but the voice kept repeating the same message over and over. He shook his head again, and picked up his phone. It was a direct line to NORAD command. "Sergeant Reed, this better be good. We're watching history here," said the voice on the other side.

"I know, sir," Robert said to his commanding officer, Lieutenant Thompson. "I've got a weird transmission on the line. It's a strange voice that simply repeats, 'Stay tuned for an important transmission.' I don't know what to make of it, sir."

"You've got a direction and signal strength, Reed?" Thompson asked.

Shaking his head as his own stupidity for forgetting that, he said, "Hold on, sir. I'll get that for you."

He rotated some dials and inspected the results on his set. Shaking his head, he repeated the steps and got the same results. Into the phone, he said, "Uh, this doesn't make sense, sir. The instruments say that it's coming from straight above me and the range calculations are inconclusive."

Lieutenant Thompson wasn't listening though. The television in front of him had changed from a reporter talking in Florida to an image of a man in a white lab coat smiling. The picture was clearer than anything he'd ever seen before. The man started speaking, "Greetings humanity. My name is Frederick Malta and I am from a future that will no longer exist. My team and I live in the year 2122. We've spent the last twenty years assembling the probe we call Know-It-All. I don't know what you call it, but to you it's been nothing but a small natural satellite orbiting the Earth every six hours or so."

The man laughed a little and said, "It's kind of funny to think that I've spent my entire adult life working on a project that would guarantee that I won't ever exist. You see, the point of the Know-It-All probe was to send it back 250,000 years into the past and record all activity on Earth until such time that humanity was ready to consume the data that the probe was collecting. Although Know-It-All was designed to look like a small natural satellite, there was a small chance that it's existence would change the history of your timeline in some way as to be different from our history. We programmed the probe to watch for an event that signified the beginnings of humanity's exploration of space. In my history, that would have been the launching of the Apollo 11 mission to land men on the Moon. If you all named the mission something else, I would understand. Not everything would play out the same when we introduced a change to the timeline you all live in by sending Know-It-All back in time. Heck, maybe you haven't even sent men into space and have chosen to send robot explorers in your stead.

"But I digress. I'm sure that your leaders have begun to wonder where all of this is going. My hope would be that this event would be one of unification instead of division. In our history, the beginnings of space exploration were in the middle of a global struggle called The Cold War. It was a high tension time for the entire planet. I want the people of the Earth to know that the knowledge contained within the Know-It-All probe is not meant for one culture or nation, but for all of humanity to share and learn from. All data in the probe has been replicated six times and will be sent to what we called North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia. I apologize for not being able to send the data to all nations, but even with our relatively advanced technology we still have limitations.

"In addition to the recordings of the last 250,000 years, we've included documentation, such that it is, of our history. We also have documentation of our technological achievements in the hopes that it speeds your technological evolution. Although it's not an official goal of this project, I do hope that you all repeat our project and send your own Know-It-All probe into the past.

"So, that brings me to the end of my little speech. The Know-It-All probe will split into pieces and enter your atmosphere within the next eight hours. We can't guarantee exactly where the pieces will land, but you can be assured that the contents inside will remain intact. Good luck to you all."

The transmission cut off and returned to the reporter who was staring blankly at the camera.

Two weeks later President Richard Nixon and Premier Alexei Kosygin stood in front of the assembled United Nations delegates and shook hands. Both leaders pledged a new era of cooperation and collaboration. The applause took ten minutes to die down.

Sixty years later, at the Frederick Malta launch facility located in the Azores, a technician was inspecting the rocket housing the Know-It-All 2 probe. He smiled at his little contribution to this historical achievement as he worked. He also reminisced at the stories his parents would tell of the tension and worry of the Cold War that ended late in 1969. What must it have been like back then? Today, the Azores, among many other places in the world, participated in the global government instead of a national government. How did humanity ever survive any other way? He wrapped up his inspection left the rocket. He looked back and smiled once more. It was a good time to be alive.

Just over 65 million years ago, a Velociraptor looked up from the Gallimimus corpse it was consuming just in time to see a flash of light in the sky. It meant nothing to the dinosaur as it went back to its meal.

Story: The Cause

I wrote another story this week for one of Chuck Wendig's Flash Fiction Challenges.  This one was similar to last week's in that you randomly picked from three buckets of story elements to create your story.  I would have been happy to write in almost any of the genres, and I got cyberpunk.  I love William Gibson, so this pleased me immensely.  For setting, I got Wal-Mart.  Meh, I would have liked any of the other settings, but this would work.  For the element to include, I got a robot.  That would work beautifully with cyberpunk.

My first draft of the story was over 1300 words, which is way over the 1000 word limit.  It was hard to pare down to 1000 words, but I'm coming in at 992 words now.  I had to remove a part of the story that I really liked, but I think that the story is still as good without it.

I hope you enjoy my attempt at cyberpunk, Wal-Mart and robots.

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Gibson sat down at a public terminal in the library section of Wal-Mart.  He glanced around to make sure that no security robots were around before plugging his neural adapter into the connector and transferred his consciousness into the terminal.

Inside, he took a moment to get his bearings.  As with most public terminals, viruses and other malware were prevalent.  He ignored those as they couldn't harm him.  He was on the lookout for either an AI or another user connected to this terminal.

Satisfied that he was alone, he began unpacking the tools that he would use for The Cause.  First, he constructed a worker factory.  Workers would free him up for more important tasks.  Then, he built a firewall factory.  The firewall factory would build pieces of firewall code that Gibson had customized to defend this terminal from outside influence while allowing the traffic that he wanted to flow.

Workers started emerging from the factory and he sent them to clean the terminal.  With the firewall factory finished, he began assembling his firewall as his workers began to tear down the terminal's firewall.

Suddenly, several workers were vaporized and Gibson realized he'd forgotten to disable the terminal's antivirus program.  He cursed himself as he couldn't afford any delays.  Antivirus programs were a joke nowadays, but they were still better than leaving a system free to any virus from the 21st century still lurking around.  Also, they could still identify and kill processes trying to overtly seize a machine.  That's what the worker processes would look like to the program.

Gibson left the firewall and went back to his tools.  He pulled out what looked like an tablet computer and punched some keys and told the terminal's OS to disable the antivirus program.  The tablet made the terminal think that he was an administrator, it complied.

He chided himself for forgetting such an easy step and went back to the firewall.  He knew that he had to hurry because the network security AIs would soon detect his firewall and try to retake control of the terminal.  A human couldn't control an AI and they could easily eject him from the machine if he didn't have his defenses up.  An AI wasn't as clever and adaptive as a human, but they made up for that by being faster.

The firewall work was finished before long, which was good, because a moment later a network security AI hit his firewall, trying to access the terminal.  He shored up the port it was trying to access and sent workers to the firewall to maintain it as the AI would start trying to break it down soon.

Gibson took the tablet computer out and opened an unsecured connection to the security terminal of the Wal-Mart.  The security terminal controlled the security robots.  The plan was to destroy every Wal-Mart, worldwide, from the inside in order to try to break the megacorporation's oppressive control of the world's culture and economy.  The security robots would be Wal-Mart's downfall.  If The Cause could break Wal-Mart, it could free the people of the Earth.

He found the security terminal and ordered his workers to start building a secure tunnel to it.  They opened a port in the firewall and began constructing the tunnel as Gibson pinged the security robots.

Panic set in as Gibson realized that one of the security robots was heading his way.  The network security AI must have sent it to physically check out the terminal.  The defenses would have to hold in his absence.

He removed the neural adapter and shoved it into his backpack.  He moved to another terminal as he gripped the EMP gun he had stashed in his backpack.  He pretended to work on the terminal as he waited for the robot.

He didn't have to wait long.  The robot rounded the corner and said, "Greetings, Wal-Mart shopper.  Is there anyone using this terminal?"  The robot was pointing at where Gibson had been sitting before.

"You just missed him," Gibson said, his grip on the EMP tightening.  He used his other hand to point, and said, "He went off towards the bathroom."

The robot looked down at Gibson.  "The security cameras tell me a different story, citizen.  They..."

The robot stopped speaking when Gibson pulled his gun out.  It tried to raise its own weapon, but Gibson had the advantage of being ready.  He fired and the robot crumpled to the ground.  He didn't have much time now, so he quickly plugged back in.

His found that defenses were holding, but there were now three AIs trying to break down the firewall.  He quickly sent all of his workers there and went to complete the tunnel himself.

Once the tunnel was finished, he entered the security terminal.  Luckily, there wasn't an AI there.  They were probably all at his firewall by now.  Soon, it wouldn't matter.  He pulled a small cage out of his tools.  It housed a virus that The Cause wrote just for this occasion.  The virus would take control of the security terminal and order the security robots to destroy the store.

As he released the virus he felt a breach open in his firewall.  He left the virus to its business and hurried back to the tunnel, only to find he was too late.  Two AIs were in the tunnel heading his way.  Trapped, he knew that he was dead.  He couldn't be harmed by an AI if his consciousness was still in the terminal he was physically connected too, but if the tunnel collapsed, his consciousness wouldn't make it back to his brain.

He glanced back to the security terminal and saw that the virus had taken control and had disconnected the terminal from the rest of the network.  The Cause had won in this store.  As the tunnel collapsed around him, Gibson smiled.  He'd done his part to save humanity.

Story: Star Trek: Spock's Dream

It's been a while since I posted anything here, so I figured it was time to post a story that I've been working on for a while.  It's my first attempt at the Star Trek universe (that I'm willing to share, anyway).  I hope you enjoy it!  I will tell you that it is in the "Alternate Timeline" that started with the most recent Star Trek movie, maybe a month or two after the end of the movie.

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"Ambassador Spock, you are the most troublesome Vulcan that I've ever had the pleasure of working with," Admiral Pike said to the aging Vulcan standing in front of his desk.  "Why do you insist on doing your own thing when the Federation is doing what's best for what remains of your people?"

"With all due respect, Admiral, I feel that I am acting in the best interests of my people and the Federation.  Unification of my people with the Romulan people has long been a dream of mine, shared with many Romulans and Vulcans," Spock responded.  "Meeting with them to discuss this isn't violating any laws, oaths or orders."

Pike sighed.  The Vulcan from a future that would never happen was undoubtedly a great asset to the Federation, though he was also turning out to be hard to keep reigned in.  "From your debriefing after the Nero incident, you gave us a pretty detailed 'history' of the Federation that was supposed to happen.  You told us that we would eventually ally ourselves with the Klingons, not the Romulans.  In light of our weakened state, we're actively working on forging this alliance right now."

It was Spock's turn to sigh, which surprised Pike.  He said, "Admiral, that alliance wouldn't happen for roughly thirty-five Earth years from now.  The situations of both the Klingon Empire and the Federation were very different than they are now.  They were motivated in that timeline by internal and external forces that simply do not apply now and will not likely develop in this timeline."

"You'll remember that the Klingons experienced significant losses during the Nero incident as well, Ambassador," Pike replied.  "Since they are weakened as well, we're hoping that they will be open to these talks."

Spock shook his head, and said, "Admiral, I have personally known many Klingons and worked closely with their people for many years.  At this point in their history, they are not going to be open to negotiations.  It is far more likely that they have already replaced most of the lost ships and are building up extra forces.  Their purpose in coming to the negotiating table is to appear weakened so that when they strike, it will be from a position of complete advantage and surprise."

Pike grimaced, realizing that what Spock said was also a quite likely scenario.  "What about your Romulan friends, then, Spock?  We've had several reports of incursions into the Neutral Zone over the past few weeks."

"They are doing what Romulans of this era do best, Admiral," Spock said.  "They are testing us, provoking us, and spying on us.  They have no real interest in expansion into Federation territory.  They are still quite isolationist, but in the timeline that I come from, they would soon have a short lived alliance with the Klingons.  I was hoping that an alliance could be forged with the Federation, instead."

Pike checked his notes on Spock's debriefing and said, "Yes, it looks like that alliance gave the Klingons the cloaking device and the Romulans some territory and many starship designs and prototypes."

Spock nodded, "The Federation never really knew the terms of the alliance, but it was clear that it benefited both sides greatly.  If we could negotiate similar terms, the Federation might be put on equal footing with our currently hostile neighbors instead of giving the Klingons yet another advantage."

"Yes, the Breen, Cardassians, Chalnoth, Gorn, Tholians, among others have been raiding our borders ever since the incident.  We've begun rebuilding the fleet, but these things take time and I'm afraid that we don't have enough of it."  Pike looked up at Spock, his jaw clenched.  "At this time, I can't authorize you to continue your negotiations.  However, I am not restricting your movements either.  Do you understand?"

A thin smile showed on Spock's lips.  Pike was again surprised by any expression on a Vulcan's face.  "Of course, I understand, Admiral.  I am also quite familiar with the human ability to, 'bend the rules'."

A smile showed on Pike's face after the Vulcan turned his back to him.  He watched Spock leave his office, then said, "Bend the rules."  Chuckling, he picked up his communicator and dialed in a particular frequency, then said, "Victor Delta Foxtrot."  He then put the communicator down and went back to his normal work routine.

In orbit around Earth, a small Vulcan craft named Surak was preparing to leave orbit.  The ship housed twenty-four young Vulcans who, before the Nero incident, had been living on Romulus keeping the hope of reunification of the two races alive.  "We have unofficial permission to continue with our mission," Spock announced when he arrived on the command deck.

Tal'dek, the oldest of the other Vulcans, seated in the pilot's seat, said, "Unofficial permission?  This is a curious phrase."

Spock sat in the captain's chair and said, "One thing that you will all learn about humans is that although they like to make rules, they also have the knack of knowing when the rules need to be broken."

Tal'dek shook his head and said, "Curious.  Our course is to Romulus, then?"

Spock replied, "Yes, as fast as this ship can take us."

Surak left Earth's orbit and passed by the planet's moon.  As it passed, a ship, painted black and without any markings or light emitting from its surface, left orbit of the satellite and followed the Vulcan ship.  Both ships jumped into warp.

Several hours later, aboard the Surak, Tal'dek took not of the readings on his tactical display.  He said, "Spock, there are four vessels on an intercept course with us."

"Are they in visual range?" Spock asked.

Tal'dek shook his head.  "No, but they are coming from the direction of Klingon space.  Their energy signatures do not match any Klingon design we have on record, but neither do they match any Federation vessel or typical Romulan signatures."

"Let's go to yellow alert, raise our shields and hail them," Spock replied without any hesitation.

Tal'dek keyed in the commands.  A few moments later, he replied, "We are not receiving any response."

"Send our status back to the nearest Federation outpost and forward to the Romulan Star Empire," Spock said.  "We shall also go to red alert and arm our weapons.  Prepare for battle."

Four sleek ships, in formation, approached the small vessel and the lead vessel fired two warning shots at Surak.  Tal'dek said, "They claim to be from the Klingon Empire.  They are demanding our immediate and unconditional surrender.  They have mentioned you by name, Spock."

Spock was silent for a moment, then said, "The only logical course of action is to surrender.  All stop, but keep our weapons and shields at the ready."

The five vessels came out of warp.  The four Klingon vessels remained in formation in front of Surak.  Tal'dek's console beeped at him and he said, "I'm picking up some weapons fire coming from behind the four vessels, but there doesn't seem to be a ship there."

The black vessel that had followed Surak from Earth opened fire on the Klingon vessels from behind them.  It scored several hits on the lead vessel with both phasers and photon torpedoes.  The Klingons' formation quickly dispersed and they circled back to where the weapons fire originated from.  The black vessel, from a different location entirely, fired on the lead vessel again, disabling its engines.  Tel'dak relayed this information to Spock who ordered Surak to join in the fight.

The three remaining Klingon vessels formed a new, loose formation that gave them weapons coverage of much of the space around them, but the black vessel was more agile and kept slipping into and out of the Klingons' blindspots.  It fired repeatedly at the Klingons from locations in the shifting blindspots.  Soon, with the aid of Surak, the shields were disabled on two of the remaining Klingon vessels and the weapons of the third were offline.

Spock ordered Surak to warp, the Klingons did not give pursuit.  Spock said, "Hail the hidden vessel."

Tel'dak did so and said, "They are responding with audio only."

Spock nodded and said, "Unidentified vessel, thank you for your assistance.  I would ask you to identify yourselves."

"I would prefer to keep that information to myself, Ambassador Spock," came the reply.  "You may call me Captain Romulus.  We had hoped that you wouldn't need our assistance, but we couldn't stand by and let you be captured by the Klingon Empire."

"I must ask you, Captain Romulus, do you plan to follow us all the way to Romulus?" Spock asked.

"I must refrain from answering that at this time, Ambassador.  Just know that we are here to help troublesome Vulcans in the event that any plans become unraveled."

Spock smiled and immediately knew who sent these mysterious strangers.  "Very well," he said.  "We will not look for you except in our time of need."

Tal'dek said, "They have cut the transmission, Spock.  Likely because we have entered the Neutral Zone."

Story: Lovely Hypocrite?

I've decided to try one of Chuck Wendig's Flash Friday challenges.  This week's challenge was to go to use a random sentence generator to generate your first or last sentence in your story.  I got "Will the company suffer the lovely hypocrite?"  I figured that I could work with that, so I wrote the following story.  I hope that you enjoy it!

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"Will the company suffer the lovely hypocrite?" General Mitchell asked. It was clear from his tone that he would not suffer my presence any longer.  Asking the rest of the company showed that he was sure of their answer.  "He has defied my command and has tried to sow dissent into our ranks.  Would you keep him in our honorable company?"

The company responded with growls and many men shouting, "No!"  Their anger didn't intimidate me.  I was in the right and didn't need to fear any immediate violence from them.  The code of conduct amongst the mech companies would prevent anyone from hurting me, for now.  Instead, they would just exile me from the city to roam the wastes.  People survived out there, but just barely.

Mitchell let the growls and yells settle down before speaking again.  "It is decided.  Rex Waters, you will be exiled in the heat of the day tomorrow."  He pointed to two men who grabbed my arms.  "You two take him to his quarters and lock him in.  Stand guard until someone relieves you."

I considered fighting, but I quickly dismissed the idea.  The entirety of the mech company surrounded me and I would be quickly overwhelmed.  They would hurt me, if I started a fight.  I needed to bide my time for an opportunity to escape to present itself.

The men guided me back to my quarters.  Without a word, they pushed me inside.  One of them pulled a pistol out and held me in the corner while the other ransacked my quarters.  Further hope fled as they found my service pistol and the two backups I had hidden.  Smiling at me, they pocketed my guns and left the room.  I heard the door lock.  "At least they didn't take what little money I have," I said to myself.

Knowing that I would need as much rest as I could get, I laid down on my bed.  I must have fallen asleep, as I was awoken by voices in the hallway outside of my room.  I quietly crept close to the door and listened.

"...come to relieve you," one of the voices said.  I recognized the voice of Sergeant Clost, the left gunner of the mech I commanded.

"I doubt the general would send two of Waters' subordinates to relieve us.  Go away before we lock you up with your former commander," one of the guards replied.

Corporal Winters, my right gunner, laughed.  "That bastard is getting what he deserves.  We said as much to the general when he offered us the opportunity to push the traitor out of the gates tomorrow."

Clost chimed in, "I look forward to pushing that backstabber out into the wastes."

The four of them laughed for a moment.  The same guard said, "Welch, you wait here with Clost.  I'll go with Winters to verify that they're legit."

I heard some footsteps, then what sounded like a scuffle and two loud thumps.  A moment later, the door opened.  I saw Winters standing there smiling at me and the bodies of the guards lying in the hallway.

"Move over, Colonel," Winters said, "we need to hide these two before anyone else comes to join them in their fate."

I sidled over so that Winters and Clost could drag the guards into my quarters.  Clost said, "I don't envy the headaches these two will have in the morning."

Winters laughed and added, "Not to mention the beating they'll get from the general when he finds out about this."

They dropped the bodies unceremoniously on the floor, turned to me and saluted sharply.  I smiled for the first time since my confrontation with General Mitchell.  Returning the salute, I said, "So, you're looking forward to pushing me out of the gates?"

The two exchanged amused glances.  Clost said, "The general did offer us that chance, sir."

Winters remarked, "And we did tell him that.  I wish we could see the look on his face when he figures out what happened."

I smiled back at them and said, "Do you two have a plan, or do I have to do everything around here?"

They chuckled.  Winters said, "You are the commanding officer, sir.  We're just a couple of grunts following our commander into battle.  What are your orders, sir?"

I retrieved my weapons from the guards.  Once that was done, I said, "Let's go get our mech and show the general how strong our convictions are.  If the general thinks I'm going let him overthrow the civilian government of the city, he has another think coming."

We raced towards the armory where the mechs were stored.  Since it was night, we didn't run into anyone in the halls and the armory was deserted.  We stopped in front of my mech and I was surprised at how relieved I was to see it.  A mech soldier spends most of his time in his mech.  It was like home to me and I hadn't known if I would see it again.

We mounted up as quickly as possible, but someone came in as we were finishing our pre-mission checklist.  Winters quickly aimed the right arm of the mech and fired one 50 caliber round.  The man's torso exploded into red mist as the round tore through him.

"Well, so much for secrecy," I said as I got the mech moving.  "We'll have company soon, gents, let's get out of here."

I ran the mech through the armory doors and into the same courtyard where I had been condemned earlier.  Clost aimed his arm of the mech back towards the armory and launched a few missiles into the building.  We cheered as I directed the mech to jump the wall of the compound to the sounds of secondary explosions.  The excitement of fighting for a just cause was a welcome change to our previous role of oppressing the people of the city we were supposed to protect.

Story a Week 43 - Foresight

 I know that it's been a while since I've put a story out here.  Oh well.  Gotta push forward and continue writing.  I hope that you all forgive my absence.

Here's a new story.  This might be a standalone, or not.  I'm not sure at this point.

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"Who are you and why did your people attack us?"

Jack Freeman sighed.  His interrogator had been yelling the same question at him for hours.  He didn't seem to believe, or want to believe the answer.  Jack repeated himself one more time, "My name is Jack Freeman.  I am an agent of the Nuclear Facility Decommission Agency of the government of the United States.  We are acting within our agency's charter."

The man finally lost his temper.  He yelled, "The United States is dead!  We've been running things in Monticello on our own for over a year without so much a peep from Washington, much less from St. Paul."

Jack just shrugged as a reply.  That didn't seem to improve the interrogator's mood.  He grabbed Jack by the front of his uniform and picked him up out of the chair.  Jack was a little intimidated, but didn't show it.  The man growled in his face, "Let's just say that you're telling the truth.  That the US government is still operating somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.  So what?  You don't have any authority here anymore.  The President was pretty clear about that during his speech on Doomsday."

Jack found that the people scattered around the country had different names for what had happened to the world just over a year ago.  The official government name for it was Day 0.  Everything after has been a day by day struggle to contain the anarchy around the country and to keep the government functioning.  People around the country also had a strangely varying interpretation of the President's Day 0 speech.  The President said, in what Jack saw as direct and clear terms, that the US government would move the capitol to Colorado Springs, with most of the operations run out of Cheyenne Mountain.  He said that the government would suspend most civilian services for an indeterminate period, but that it was not renouncing its authority over the people of the United States.  Apparently, most people didn't see it that way.

The man dropped Jack roughly into the chair.  Jack calmly said, "The President is still alive and still the authority of the entire United States as it was on Day 0.  We have every right to come here and decommission the nuclear plant here."

The man, who had turned his back on Jack, quickly rounded and punched him squarely in the jaw.  "You can't do that!  The nuclear plant is the only thing keeping this town alive!  We sell energy to some of the surrounding communities in exchange for food.  We're one of the biggest towns left in this part of the state."

The man's reaction wasn't uncommon.  When the NFDA ran into resistance at a nuclear power plant, it was often the life blood of the community.  Jack even felt bad about that, but these people didn't have the resources to keep the plant running safely.  The agency was created, with several others, under the National Foresight Act.  The purpose of the act was to try to prevent further ecological and infrastructure harm that would be caused by misused or mistreated facilities.  Nuclear facilities were high on the list for decommissioning since they could cause widespread radiation if something went wrong.

Jack ignored his throbbing chin and said, "Listen, we know that this will be hard for you all, but it would be much, much worse if the plant had a meltdown.  The effects of a meltdown wouldn't be contained to your little town either.  The cloud of radiation would spread all over the Midwest and the jet stream would spread it all the way to the Atlantic coast.  We just can't allow that."

The man's attitude quickly turned from one of anger to desperation.  He was practically pleading when he said, "But we're taking good care of the plant!  Most of the employees that worked here before are still living in town.  We haven't had any trouble with anything at all."

Jack knew that the crisis here was coming to a resolution.  He said, "I've heard that story everywhere I've gone.  Believe me that I know that you all are taking good care of the plant right now.  However, what happens in a year or two when an essential part breaks or an essential computer fails?  You people can't manufacture those parts here locally."

The man sighed and nodded.  "I guess that you are right about that.  But what will we do?  How will our town survive?"

Jack was about to explain how the government compensates towns that cooperate when he heard a quiet, and peculiar sound outside the door.  The man didn't seem to hear it.  Since Jack recognized the sound, he said instead, "Your people will find a way.  People are resourceful.  Unfortunately for you, though, you won't live to see that."

The man didn't seem to understand.  His look of confusion was quickly replaced by fear as the door came flying into the room and three armed men rushed in.  The lead soldier shot the man once in the forehead.

Another soldier pulled out a knife and cut the bonds that were holding Jack's hands together behind his back.  Jack stood and stretched his arms and said, "It's a good thing that you guys came when you did.  I was about to have to give that fool the care package."

The four of them laughed for a moment.  The lead soldier said, "Well, we'll get this one cheap for a change."

Jack nodded and chuckled.  He asked, "Is the rest of the facility secure now?"

The others nodded.  Jack said, "In that case, let's go shutdown and disable the reactor."

Story a Week 30 - Vesta Bound 2

 Hello everybody.  Been a couple of weeks since I've posted.  I've got some personal news that I'll share in a separate post.

This is the second story in my Vesta plot line.  It's a little shorter.  I had some trouble with it, I'm not quite sure what the next steps will be at this point.  I know where I want the story to go, but I'm not quite sure how to get there yet.  I'll figure it out eventually though.

Next story will be in the Propheteering plot line.  Hope you enjoy the story!

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Jeff carefully guided the Memphis towards a docking port of Vesta Station.  He was very apprehensive about his upcoming meeting with his grandfather.  That, coupled with his sorrow and guilt over his father's death, had him on edge.  That was why he jumped and yelped when his cousin, Devon, popped his head in the cockpit to ask if they were docked yet.

"Devon, you startled the crap out of me!" Jeff exclaimed.  "We'll be docked shortly.  If I don't crash us into the station because of someone distracting me!"

Devon mumbled an apology as he backed out of the cockpit.  Jeff concentrated on the docking procedure.  A few moments later, the Memphis was secured to the station and Jeff went through the post-docking routine.  When that was finished, Jeff sighed.  He knew that he'd overreacted to Devon and that he'd been on edge since... he didn't want to think about that right now.  Or ever, for that matter.

He finished locking down the cockpit and left it.  He just hoped that it wasn't the last time.

Jeff walked through the ship in a half daze as he made his way to the airlock.  He didn't know how his grandfather would react to what had happened, but he knew that it wasn't going to be pretty.  The light on the airlock showed green for equalized pressure and Jeff opened the door.  He was surprised to see his grandfather and two of his uncles waiting for him on the other side.  His two uncles had their own ships and they weren't scheduled to be back at Vesta until next week.

"Hello, Jeff," his grandfather said.

Jeff could feel his blood pressure rising already.  "Hello grandfather," Jeff responded.  "I wasn't expecting you to be here, I was heading to your offices."

His grandfather gave him a smile full of pity.  "Jeff, you must be beside yourself with grief.  We didn't want to extend your wait by making you walk all that way."

Jeff knew that something was amiss now.  His grandfather, Matthew Watson, wasn't particularly known for his empathy.  Jeff cautiously replied, "Thank you, grandfather, but that's not necessary.  We can go to your office."  Jeff tried to push his way through the three older men, but his two uncles stopped him by lightly grabbing his arms.  They weren't rough with him, but they made it clear that they wouldn't be letting him through.

Jeff sighed and looked to his grandfather.  "What's this all about?"

"Well, Jeff, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to give command of the Memphis to Devon," he said.

"What?!?" Jeff yelled.  "You can't do that!  The ship was my dad's and it should go to me next!"

Matthew shrugged.  "Doesn't matter, really.  I can assign the ship to whoever I want.  It's apparent to me from the reports I've gotten from the others on the ship that you're not ready to captain it."

Jeff shrugged off his uncles' grips and took a step back.  "You think Devon is?  He's younger than I am!"

Devon's dad, Bartholomew, said, "Only by a couple of months!"

Matthew made a dismissing motion and said, "Enough!  The decision is made, Jeff.  You can stay aboard the Memphis as First Mate, if you like, but Devon will be Captain."

The thought of staying aboard the ship with someone else at the helm made Jeff feel sick, even if it were his best friend.  Well, former best friend at any rate.  Who else would have "given a report" to his grandfather.  He looked at his two uncles and his grandfather.  It was obvious that they weren't going to let him win this fight.  He would have to come back and fight this battle another day.

"You don't know what you're doing, grandfather.  This is a big mistake," Jeff growled.  "I'm taking my things and leaving the compound."

Surprise showed on his grandfather's face.  "Wait, wait.  Don't go overboard, there, Jeff.  I don't want to drive you out, I just think that you need some time before you're ready to captain."

"The die is cast, grandfather," Jeff said.  "You made your play and I'm making mine.  Maybe I'll come back one day, but I don't think that it will be anytime soon."

Surprise was replaced by a look of respect on Matthew's face.  "What will you do out there?" he asked.  "I can't protect you once you leave the family, you know."

Jeff nodded.  He knew that people without one of the large families to back them had a rough life on Vesta Station, but he had an idea that might make it all worth it, in the end.  "I don't know for sure, yet," he lied.

Matthew sighed.  "Well, kiddo.  I can't stop you."  He took a step forward and put a hand on Jeff's shoulder.  "You're welcome back at any time, Jeff.  I mean that."

Jeff nodded again and turned to go back into the ship.  I just need to pick up a few things."  Jeff went in and his uncle Bartholomew followed to make sure that he didn't take anything that wasn't his.  After gathering a sackful of his items and all of his money, Jeff left the ship.  His uncle walked him through the family compound and to the exit that lead to the common area of Vesta Station.

Jeff paused just inside the door and took one last look back at the compound.  It would probably be a while before he returned.  He sighed and left the compound.

He glanced around.  The common area was part market and part roadway.  It linked the compounds of the major and minor families and served as a neutral ground for meetings between them.  Because of this it was also the most dangerous place on the station.  Muggings and stabbings were quite common.  No one knew if it was due to the families sniping at one another or desperate criminals without a family to support them.

Either way, Jeff was prepared.  He had taken a blade and a pistol from his room before leaving the ship.  He headed towards the right, away from the more prosperous part of the station towards where the smaller families had their compounds and where the general quarters for anyone without a family were.  It wasn't long before he reached the only temporary quarters that the station boasted.  He entered and went to the desk on the inside.  The man behind the desk had one hand below the table, obviously holding a weapon at the ready, while he spoke to Jeff.  "Good afternoon, young man," he said.  "How can I help ya?"

The man's tone was anything but friendly.  He might as well have said, "If you don't belong here, get out."

Jeff cleared his throat and said, "I need a room for a couple of days."

The man looked Jeff up and down.  "Ya sure, rich boy?  This ain't exactly the best place for someone like you to stay."

Jeff looked down at his clothes and realized that they probably gave away his place as a member of one of the high families.  He sighed and thought that he'd have to get some more conspicuous clothing.  "Yes, I'm sure."

The man shook his head and brought set both hands on the desk.  "Alright then.  Just so you know, people play for keeps here.  If ya lose something, it's gone for good, ya understand me?"

Jeff nodded.  "Yep, I can take care of myself."

He got to his new room a few minutes later.  It wasn't anything special, basically just a bed and bathroom.  Jeff got the room organized as he wanted it to be and went to bed.  Tomorrow, he would try to find some pirates.

Story a Week 29 - Thaw Deal 3

 Man, it's been a busy couple of weeks.  I've worked about 110 hours in the last two weeks (especially nice over the holiday weekend!).  Also, the wife and I moved about 1000 pounds of furniture on Saturday.  Anyway, those are my excuses for the late submission of Story a Week #29.

I hope that you like the third installment of the "Thaw Deal" storyline.  I'm going to post the second "Vesta Bound" story next week.  I've had it half done for a couple of weeks now, so I'm going to finish writing it this week and post it next Saturday.  Who knows what I'll do after that.

Also, I'll be posting at least once for "Speak Out With Your Geek Out".  If you haven't heard about this event, please look here or here.  As most of you know, I am proud of my geekiness.  I'm not quite sure yet what the post(s) will be about, but stay tuned.

I appreciate you all reading my stories and hope that you continue to do so.

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Jake blinked a couple of times and stared up blankly at the image in front of him.  "What do you mean?  I just closed my eyes."

The man on the screen rolled his eyes and said, "Well, I'm sure from your perspective, that's true.  For the rest of the world, though, it's been one hundred years since you closed your eyes."

Jake didn't know what to say, his head was a little cloudy.  "You're still coming down from the meds, I see, Jake.  I'll come back in a minute or two."

The screen went blank and Jake closed his eyes again and shook his head to try to shake the cobwebs inside loose.  He opened his eyes again and looked through the clear glass outside.  He couldn't see directly to his front, right or left, but he could see out of the corners of the casket.  Across the way there were some people still sleeping in their berths.  Jake, thinking clearly for the first time, figured that they were probably put to sleep after he was and would wake up when their one hundred years were up.

Jake was momentarily blinded when the man reappeared in front of him again.  He blinked away the blindness and noticed for the first time that there wasn't a screen in front of him, but rather some sort of three dimensional hologram.

He asked, "Who are you and how are you projecting yourself into my casket?"

The man laughed then said, "I'm Hal, I'm in charge of maintaining this place.  Are you ready to get out?  You'll be the first.  The others are a little slow at coming out of their stupors."

Jake shrugged then nodded.  "Yeah, I guess so."

There was a short hissing noise and Jake felt a slight change in air pressure.  Hal disappeared and the cask opened up.  He gingerly stepped out and found that his legs were working properly, even after one hundred years of not being used.

Jake took a moment to look around.  The people across from his berth were still asleep, but the people in his row of berths were all in their berths, taking their time to wake up.  Jake looked down at himself and saw that his clothes looked remarkably the same as they did when he put them on.

The other berths started opening up and people were getting out and stretching.  Jake recognized them all from the reception, but didn't actually speak to any of them before now.

Jake was startled when someone behind him spoke.  He whirled around to find Hal standing close behind him.  "Jeez, man.  Don't sneak up on me like that."

Hal smiled and said, "Sorry, I don't get many visitors around here and as such, I forget to follow the normal social graces."

Jake was a little puzzled by Hal, but chalked it up to what had to be a totally different culture of the 22nd century.  "So, what are things like here in the future?" he asked.

Hal was still smiling, but his smiled subtly changed somehow.  Jake couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he did notice a change.  Hal said, "All in good time, champ.  I've got to get you all to the debriefing room first."

He took a couple of steps towards the center of the group and said in a loud voice, "If I can have your attention, everyone."  He waited for everyone to turn towards him, then continued, "Welcome to the year 2122.  For those of you who haven't asked yet, my name is Hal.  I'm in charge of maintaining this place.  If you'll all follow me, I'll lead you to the debriefing room."

Hal walked off at that point and the sleepers followed him to a small room adjoining the large one containing the berths.  As Jake stepped into the room, he realized that it was the same room that they had all been prepped by the lab techs before getting into the berths.  It had been remodeled as a conference room with twenty permanent chairs affixed to the floor.

Jake took a seat as Hal strode to the front of the room.  After everyone was seated, Hal addressed them all, "According to company policy, the COO is supposed to come and debrief you all and hand over your money."  Hal paused for a moment and Jake felt something out of place about him again.  "Well, folks, I've got some bad news for you.  The COO won't be coming."  Hal laughed and it sounded almost hysterical to Jake.  He said, "Well, I guess that since I'm the only remaining employee of Cryotechnic, I could claim the title of COO."

One of the men in the front row stood up and yelled out, "Cryotechnic went out of business?  How is that possible?  Where's my money!  We were promised to get at least the amount we put in!"

Hal calmly said, "Calm down, Mr. Rutger.  Everything will be clear momentarily."

Mr. Rutger looked like he didn't want to sit, but Hal's stern look finally wilted the man's resolve and he sat.  Hal looked back around the room for a moment, and then said, "There's no easy way to say this, folks, so I'm just going to come right out and say it.  Cryotechnic doesn't exist anymore.  In fact, as far as I know, no corporation exists anymore."

Jake was totally confused and he looked around and saw more confused faces.  Hal apparently saw the same thing and continued, "I'm trying to tell you people that civilization has ended.  I haven't received a radio transmission in over sixty years and haven't seen a person on my surface cameras in thirty."

A small pit of despair started forming in Jake's stomach.  Hal sighed and continued, "I'm not really sure what happened.  We filled all of our berths about a year after I came on, in 2028.  After the berths were filled, I was left alone to take care of you all."

Jake's feeling of unease was growing and growing until he finally realized something about Hal.  He spoke up, "Wait a second, Hal.  You don't look a day over thirty, but you started working here ninety-four years ago.  How is that possible?"

Hal looked sheepish as he answered, "Well, you got me there, Jake.  I'm not a human; I'm just an AI program.  I'm projected here via hologram."

Jake nodded to himself, he knew that Hal's behavior was a little erratic and being an AI explained it.  Hal looked around at everyone and said, "Like I said, I don't know exactly what happened.  All I know is that in the year 2034, my creator came down here.  He was the only visitor in six years."  Hal's face showed sadness now as he told his tale.  "His name was John.  He was the CIO at that point in time and was able to give me access to the security cameras of the building and the network.  He wouldn't talk about what was happening, but he'd brought enough food for himself for a couple of weeks.  He wanted to be left alone for the most part, but I heard him crying a lot during those two weeks.  When his food started to run out he became more and more worried.  When he finally left, he told me not to allow anyone else down the elevator.

"I was, of course, monitoring the radio and television.  The television didn't really give me much as none of the networks were broadcasting.  The radio was more interesting.  I didn't get a lot of news, but a military force of some sort was using open frequencies for their operations."  Hal closed his eyes for a moment.  "There was a lot of fighting in the city.  I don't know who was fighting whom, but they were using everything short of nukes.  At least in this city.  There were reports of short nuclear exchanges between some other countries, but not with the United States."

The sadness on Hal's face deepened.  "John left to find more food for himself, but he never returned.  I continued to monitor all radio traffic and learned some things.  I don't have any definite details, but I'm pretty sure that there was some sort of civil war happening in the United States.  Details about the global situation were slim, so I'm not sure why there was fighting elsewhere.  I think, though, that the civil war was what kept the US from being nuked.  We were too busy fighting ourselves to threaten other countries."

Jake's despair had deepened and he looked around and saw dejected faces on everyone.  Jake knew why too, the future was supposed to be bright for them, not like this.  He saw tears on some of the people's faces.

Mr. Rutger spoke up again.  "What do we do now?"

Hal shrugged.  "I don't know.  I do know that in two weeks I will have to wake up the next set of people.  After that, it will be an average of a set per month for the next six years."

Suddenly, Jake's despair disappeared.  He knew what needed to be done.  He jumped up and said, "I've got it!  We need to start a new civilization!"  He pointed up at the lights on the ceiling.  "Hal, how are these lights working?"

Hal shrugged, "A combination of two sources of electricity.  We've got solar panels on the roof of the building above, though those are in complete disrepair.  I don't think they're going to last much longer.  There's a small fusion generator in a room adjoining the large room.  That's where I'm drawing most of the power to keep the berths functional.  I don't know how long that will last."

Jake nodded.  "Good information, thanks.  Hal, how solid is the building above us?"

Hal shrugged again.  "I don't know, really.  The holograph emitters only let me go in this room and the large room.  From what I can see on the security cameras, there are whole sections of the building that have collapsed, but it could serve as a shelter for a while."

Jake looked around at everyone in the room, all eyes were on him.  That made Jake nervous and self-conscious, but he shoved those feelings down deep.  "Guys, hear me out.  We can do this.  We have shelter and electricity.  I'm sure that we'll be able to find tools and materials out there in the ruins of the city.  We can rebuild our society."

Jake gauged the reactions of the people around them.  He could see that most of them were still unsure of how to proceed.  Jake moved to the end of his row of chairs and to the front of the room to stand next to Hal.  "Why don't you all see what needs to be done?  Maybe there are others out there that we can band with.  If not, we'll have regular reinforcements coming up from down here.  Hal, what's the population of the large room?"

Hal quickly said, "Nine hundred and eighty.  You all make it an even one thousand."

Jake nodded.  "That's enough population for a small town in itself."  He looked and could see the hope rising on the faces of the crowd.

Mr. Rutger stood up and said, "Hey, who died and made you leader?"

Jake couldn't help but laugh at Mr. Rutger's choice of words.  "Everyone," he said.  "Listen, Mr. Rutger," Jake made sure to put the emphasis on the mister.  "I don't see anyone else stepping up.  Now, I'm not a natural leader, but I do know that we can't just give up.  I don't think that this future is what any of us expected, but we need to move on.  To do that, we need to work together so that we can rebuild a functioning society.  It will be hard work.  We'll need to be constantly building and planning ahead for those that will be joining us in the next six years."  Jake looked to make sure he had the support of most of the room before he looked back at Rutger.  "So, what do you say, Mr. Rutger.  Are you with us?"

Rutger glanced around the room himself before saying, "Marcus."

His response caught Jake off guard.  "Huh?" was all he managed to get out.

Marcus smiled and said, "That's my name, Marcus Rutger."  He paused for a moment and sighed.  "You're right, Jake.  We can't afford to give up.  We need to survive and make sure that those who will be waking up in the not too distant future have a place to live.  They will be depending on us."

Jake smiled back.  "Good, I'm glad that we're on the same page here, Marcus."  He chuckled and said, "Like I said, I don't think that this was the future any of us expected."  He glanced around with a mischievous smile on his face before dropping this line, "Looks like Cryotechnic gave us all a thaw deal."

Everyone moaned and rolled their eyes at Jake.

Story a Week 28 - Thaw Deal 2

Well, as promised, here is another Story a Week!  Aren't you all lucky to get two within a few days of each other?  Well, of course, I am technically still behind, but let's just get past that, shall we?

So, this is a continuation of the last storyline.  I think the next story will be too, then I might switch back to one of the other storylines I have going.  I can't believe that I have three active storylines going at the same time!  It's madness!

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Jake stood in his empty apartment and looked around once last time.  He took a moment to reflect on the last month and a half.  It was all a whirlwind of selling everything he owned and clearing out his apartment.  He patted the cashier's check in his front pocket.  It was hard to believe that his whole life had only been worth about twenty thousand dollars.  He chuckled to himself; that would change over the next one hundred years while he would be frozen.

"Are you ready?" came the voice of his mother behind him.

Jake turned and smiled at her, and then it occurred to him that some things would be gone in one hundred years.  "Oh, mom," he said, tears threatening to flow from his eyes.  "I just realized that this will be the last time we see each other."

Jake and his mother unsuccessfully fought off tears as they embraced.  After a few moments, his mother took a step back and wiped the tears from her cheeks.  "We had better get going," she said.

Jake nodded solemnly and followed his mother out of the apartment and down to her car.  They rode to the Cryotechnic headquarters in silence.  When they pulled into the parking lot, neither of them made a move to leave the car.

Jake took the check out of his pocket and held it out to his mother.  "Mom, I want you to take this."

She looked at him, tears in her eyes.  "Jakey, I can't take that."

Jake laughed.  "You haven't called me Jakey since I was a kid," he said.  His face turned serious as he continued, "No, mom.  I insist.  You put this away for your retirement.  You know that I'll be taken care of."

Jeff's mother grudgingly accepted the check and put it into her purse.  The two of them got out of the car and hugged once more before going inside.

Jill came around the receptionist desk inside of the building and approached the two of them.  "I'm Jill; you must be Jake's mom?"

She nodded and said, "Yes, Marabelle."

"Pleased to meet you," Jill said, gesturing towards a security guard standing near a door.  "If you will follow Mark, he will lead you to the reception."

The three of them walked together through the door and they stopped in front of an elevator.  Mark pulled out a security card from his pocket and swiped it in front of a small black spot on the wall next to the elevator.  The elevator doors opened immediately and the three of them stepped through.

The first thing that Jake noticed about the elevator was that there weren't any buttons.  When he commented on it, Mark replied, "This elevator only goes to two floors: the lobby and the 'Berthing' level."

"Uh, 'berthing' level?" Jake asked unsure if he'd like the answer he was going to get.

Mark shot a big grin over at Jake as he replied, "Yeah, you know, because the gurus up in marketing decided to call each pod or whatever a berth."  The guard shrugged.  "I dunno, they probably think that it makes them sound more appealing."

The elevator ride took another couple of moments and Jake thought that they must be several stories underground.  Before he could comment on that, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.  The three of them walked out into the biggest room that Jake had ever seen.  The ceiling was at least three stories high and it was at least the distance of a football field for each wall.  The room was filled with cryogenic "berths", or at least that's what Jake thought they were.  Each berth slightly resembled a coffin with clear glass instead of wood or metal.  Jake immediately wished he hadn't thought of coffins right before going into one of the berths.  There were machines connected to the berth so that each one took up about twice the size of a standard coffin.  Jake took another look around the room and estimated that there were about ten thousand berths in the room.

"Uh, follow me, sir," Mark said.  Jake realized that he must have been out of it for a couple of moments.

"Uh, sorry," he replied.

Mark shrugged and led Jake and Marabelle to the center of the room.  There Jake saw some computers set up in what looked like NASA's control room.  Also, near the computer banks, was an elaborately decorated banquet table full of food and a podium.  There were several dozen chairs set up to face the podium and cameramen fussing with their cameras behind the chairs.

Mark led Jake and his mother up to where Bill Franklin was standing near the banquet table.  Mark said, "Mr. Franklin, Jake Anthony is here."

Bill turned and Jake looked up at him.  "Hello again, Mr. Franklin," he said.

"Oh, call me Bill, please, Jake," he said, "and who is this lovely lady?"

Jake smiled and replied, "This is my mother, Marabelle Anthony."

The three of them exchanged small talk for a couple of minutes before Bill was called away.  Jake and his mother took some seats in the audience and waited a couple more minutes for the reception to begin.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight lit up the podium.  Bill stepped into the light and cleared his throat.  "Good evening ladies and gentlemen.  As most of you know, my name is 'Big' Bill Franklin and I'm the COO of Cryotechnic Corporation."  Bill looked around the room with a smile on his face.  "Tonight we're all here to usher in a new era for humanity.  For the first time in our history, people will be travelling through time."  Bill paused as chuckles rippled through the audience.  "Alright folks, you got me.  While the people that will be entering cryogenic berths today will, from their perspective, be instantly transported to the future; the trip will, in fact, take them one hundred years to complete.  But, once the trip is complete, the twenty pioneers of cryogenics will find themselves in the year 2122.  Tonight, we bid farewell to these twenty pioneers so that they can say hello to the future for us."

Bill paused and the crowd applauded.  Jake found Bill's words inspiring.  In fact, he realized that after Bill's speech he couldn't wait to step into his own berth.

After the applause died down, Bill continued, "Have fun tonight folks!"

The crowd applauded once more and the room's lights came back up.  The crowd descended on the banquet table and began mingling amongst themselves.  A few minutes into the reception, Marabelle pulled Jake aside.

"Jake, honey, I'm going to be leaving now," she said after a moment or two of hesitation.

Jake was a little set back, but quickly recovered.  "Why, mom?" he asked.

"Well, dear.  I don't think that I can bear to watch you step into one of those...those..." she started.

"Coffins?" Jake said, interrupting.

"Well, yes," she replied.  "I know that they're not really coffins, but you must admit that they do look a lot like them."  After Jake nodded she continued, "I know that we'll never see each other again and while that makes me very sad, I'm glad that you have this opportunity, Jake."

Jake didn't know what to say, so he just hugged his mother.  They held the embrace for a few moments before separating.  Jake saw more tears in his mother's eyes as they said their last goodbyes.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur.  Jake met all of the other people who either won the lottery or bought their way into the first round of cryogenic berths.  After a couple of hours, the reception began to wind down and Bill led the group of pioneers away from the reception area into a small room adjoining the large one.

In that room were several men dressed in lab coats.  They handed out jumpsuits to everyone.  Bill said, "These jumpsuits are designed to last the entire time you are in the cryogenic chamber.  They are a rubber, polymer microfiber something or other.  These guys could tell you more about them, if you're interested.  I'm here to see if any of you want to back out at the last minute."  Bill looked at them all and said, "Anyone going to back out?  We have some alternates on call, if you are."

Bill took the time to look each person in the eye before continuing.  "Good, I've met you all and I didn't think that any of you would back out, but I needed to ask just the same."  He thrust a thumb over his shoulder and continued speaking, "Behind me are some showers.  Please shower thoroughly with the soap inside the dispensers.  You can leave your cloths in the bins provided and these guys will help you into your berths."

Bill took a final look at everyone and said, "Seriously, folks, good luck.  No one knows what the future will hold, but I'm sure that you all will enjoy it!"

Jake did as he was told and a few minutes later he was standing near a cryogenic berth with one of the techs.  "So, you get lucky number five," the tech said as he was doing some final preparations.

"Excuse me?" Jake said, confused.

The tech stopped what he was doing and pointed to a big, red five over where Jake's head would rest.  "See, number five.  It happens to be my favorite number," the tech said.

"Uh, okay, good to know, I guess," Jake replied.

A few moments later, the tech pointed inside the berth and said, "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in there."  As Jake did so, he continued, "As you know, we're going to put you into a medically induced coma and then we'll freeze your body.  You won't feel a thing.  In fact, the next thing that you'll know, you'll open your eyes one hundred years from now.  Cool, huh?"

Jakes nerves had kicked in, so the only response he gave was a weak nod.  The tech shrugged and pulled a syringe off the table next to the berth.  "Comfy?" he asked.  When Jake just nodded again, the tech chuckled and stuck him in the arm with the needle.

Almost immediately, Jake started to feel a little strange.  He struggled to keep his eyes open, and then decided that it felt better with them closed.

"Hey!  Wake up!"

Jake was startled to hear a voice.  He hadn't even fallen asleep yet.

"I said, wake up!" the voice said again.

Jake opened his eyes and was startled to see some sort of television screen about a foot away from his face.  The berth was closed and the room beyond was almost completely dark.

"Uh, what happened?" Jake asked.

The man on the screen just laughed.  "You're in the future, champ.  Well, technically the present, but one hundred years have passed since you last had your eyes open."

Story a Week 27 - Thaw Deal

Hello everyone!  Since I have been lax in posting the last two weeks, I thought I'd give you a little midweek story.  I thought of this story earlier this week and it's been on my mind all week, so I finished it off tonight while I'm home alone with the kids.  I do plan on posting another story this Saturday since it's already half written too and I just need to finish it off.

I appreciate all of you who read my blog and hope that if you like it you share with your friends.  I'm getting some positive feedback through word of mouth, which is encouraging.  Thanks!

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"And the Cryotechnic Lottery numbers for July Seventeenth, 2022..."  The announcer smiled a big, fake smile as he let the anticipation build.  Jake Anthony rolled his eyes as he watched the TV.  He double-checked that he had the ticket that his mother bought for him.

He was missing what the announcer was saying.  "...twenty-four and thirty-five.  Once again, the numbers are four, nineteen, twenty-two, twenty-four and thirty-five."

Jake started to throw the ticket away when he spotted a thirty-five on it.  A little shiver of excitement went down Jake's spine.  He took a good look at the ticket and read the numbers.  Four, nineteen, twenty-two, twenty-four and thirty-five!  He sent the chair he was in sprawling as he jumped up out of it.

Jake quickly picked up his cell phone and dialed his mom's number.  A moment later, she answered, "Hello?"

Jake had to fight to keep the excitement out of his voice as he said, "Hi, mom.  How are you doing?"

Apparently he failed to keep the excitement at bay as his mom replied, "What's happening?"

Jake let the excitement out as he blurted out, "Mom, you remember that Cryotechnic Lottery ticket you bought me?"

He heard the excitement in his mother's voice as she said, "Yes I do."

"Well, I just watched the announcement of the numbers and my numbers match!  I've won a berth in the first batch of them that Cryotechnic is going to do in September," Jake exclaimed.

"Oh, my!  I knew that those numbers were lucky," she said.  "We'll have to celebrate!  When were you planning on turning the ticket in?"

That thought hadn't occurred to Jake.  "Uh, I don't know," he said.  "I guess that I could go down there still this evening."

"I think that is a good idea, Jake.  Call me tonight and fill me in on the details," his mother replied.

Jake got off the phone and noticed the turned over chair for the first time.  He straightened the chair and grabbed his coat.  Jake happened to live in same city as the Cryotechnic headquarters, so it wasn't a terribly long drive.  Nervousness set in as he pulled into the parking lot of a large building on the east side of town near the river.  He parked in one of the few empty parking spaces and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

As casually as he could manage, Jake opened the front door and walked over to the receptionist desk.  His voice only cracked once as he said, "Hi, my name is Jake Anthony and I have the winning numbers for today's lottery."

The receptionist sounded bored as she said, "Really?  Well, let me see the ticket then."

Jake pulled the ticket from his jeans pocket and handed it to her.  She barely looked at it as she ran it through a scanner on her desk.  A green light lit up on the scanner and a friendly beep came out of the machine.  Her eyes widened and she said, "Wow!  You weren't kidding!"  She looked back up at Jake sheepishly.  "Sorry about doubting you, Jake.  We get a lot of people trying to run scammed tickets by us.  I knew that we had a winner tonight, but I didn't think that it would come from our own city!"

She took the ticket out of the scanner and grabbed a little paper that had printed out of it as well.  She stood up and walked around the desk to face Jake.  "Let me be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Anthony," she said as she stuck out her hand.  "My name is Jill, by the way.

Jake shook her hand and said, "Thank you, Jill.  Actually though, I called my mom first.  She bought me the ticket, after all."

Jill smiled at Jake and replied, "Well, that's nice of her.  Follow me and I'll bring you back to our Chief of Operations, Bill Franklin."

She turned and led Jake through a maze of hallways and offices until they came to a door that simply said "COO".  Jill knocked on the door and, without waiting for an answer, opened it.

The room beyond the door was large, but sparsely decorated with only a desk and a couple of chairs.  Even though he was sitting, Jake could tell that the man was very tall.  Suddenly, a faded memory jumped into Jake's head.  "Oh man, that's 'Big' Bill Franklin!"

Bill looked up from the laptop on his desk and smiled at Jake.  "Always nice to meet a fan," he said in a smooth baritone.  He stood up and walked around the desk to meet Jake and Jill.

Jill handed him the slip and ticket and walked out of the office without saying another word.  She shut the door behind her.  Bill took a quick look at the two pieces of paper and nodded with a smile on his face.  He motioned towards his desk.  "Come, Jake.  Have a seat."

Jake started to, but realized that he hadn't said his name.  "Um, Bill?  How'd you know my name?"

Bill stopped and turned to Jake, the smile still present.  "You're a fan right?" he asked.  He waited until Jake nodded and continued, "Good.  Remember Game 7 of the '12 World Series?"

"Yeah!  You guys faced your old mentor, Joe Finkley.  It was only the second time he'd started a game all season," Jake replied.

Bill nodded.  "Yep.  Joe and I went way back.  Like you said, he was my mentor when I played for St. Louis.  I knew every pitch he had up his sleeve and when he'd use them."  Bill sat down and indicated that Jake should too.  He continued, "It's a definite advantage to know what's going to happen before it happens."

As Jake sat down he said, "I'll say.  You guys slaughtered them."  He looked puzzled for a moment, "But you didn't answer my question."

Bill laughed.  "You're a smart one, aren't you?  Well, Jill entered your name into our system when you came in and scanned your ticket.  It's on the receipt that she gave me with the ticket."

Jake nodded.  "I see.  Okay, Bill, I've got one more question for you, and then we can get down to business.  What's a hall of fame pitcher doing as a COO here?"

The question made Bill laugh once more.  "I've always had a mind for business, Jake.  When I was playing ball for Harvard, I was also studying business there.  When I retired from baseball, I went back and got my MBA and doctorate.  I met some people there who were creating a startup called Cryotechnic.  I looked at their business plan and got in on the ground floor with them."

"And now you're standing with them on the top story of the emerging market of cryogenics," Jake finished.  Bill nodded.  "Okay, Bill.  I'll let you get down to business, but I'll need an autograph before I go home."

Bill laughed once again and said, "You know, Jake, I like you.  You can have as many autographs as you like."  He rummaged around in a desk drawer for a moment and pulled out a brochure that he passed across the desk to Jake.  "That brochure contains more details about what you've won.  As I'm sure you're aware, you can deposit as much cash as you like with us and we'll invest it while you are asleep.  We guarantee that you will get at least the equivalent amount of money, allowing for inflation, plus an additional one million dollars as a base since you are one of the six lottery contestants that we're including in our first set of berths."

Jake let out a slow whistle.  "A million bucks sure is nice.  What happens if I choose to refuse to go into cryogenic sleep?"

"Well, Jake, that is your right.  We're not going to force you into it, but you will forfeit your prize.  We'd make you sign a non-disclosure agreement and give you an additional small incentive package for not disclosing your refusal to the public."  Bill looked Jake over and said, "Something tells me that you're not going to refuse though, are you Jake?"

Jake shook his head, "Not on your life, Bill.  I just wanted to get all the options."

Bill stood up and extended his hand, "Great!  Congratulations, Jake.  All you need to do is come by here next week to fill out some paperwork and I'll see you in September!"

Jake stood and shook Bill's hand.  "Thanks!  But I think you owe me some autographs first!"

Story a Week 26 - Vesta Bound

Hello everybody!  This week's Story a Week is something new.  I've been thinking that I needed to bring something new to the table and here it is!  There's also something else new that I've done within the story, but I don't want to spoil it.

As always, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments.  This post marks the halfway point of my goal to do a year's worth of stories.  I really do enjoy writing them and I hope that you enjoy reading them.

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"Dad, how long do we have to stay powered down?" Jeff asked his father as they sat in the pilot and copilot seats of the family's mining vessel.

Hubert sighed before replying, "Jeff, you know as well as I do that we need to stay powered down until the pirates leave the area."

Hubert glanced down at the only piece of electronics that was still running on the entire ship, a motion sensor screen.  The pirates had to know that there was someone out here because Hubert had detected them with his long range radar.  That was when they had shut down their systems.  Fortunately, motion sensors were passive detection, so they weren't putting out any detectable signals anymore.  Hubert just wished that they were longer range and could tell the difference between the asteroids around them and the pirate ships like radar could.

His breath caught in his throat as he spotted the two pirate ships moving on his screen.  They appeared to be heading straight for his ship.  Hubert glanced down to the button that would turn everything back on again.  It would take roughly ten seconds for the engines to power back up.

Not that Hubert thought that he could outrun the pirate ships anyway.  The mining vessel had been in his family for eighty years, but the pirate ships were likely to be pretty new.  The Watson family was proud to be part of the first wave of explorers and miners to reach the main asteroid belt.  Hubert's grandfather, Albert Watson, was one of the founding fathers of the Vesta trading colony.  Pirates were a new phenomenon in the belt as more and more miners settled here so did the people who would prey on them.

Hubert remembered his history lessons from school.  The same thing happened before in humanity's history.  When Europeans had established reliable trade in the Americas, pirates began to raid that trade.  Now that trade from the belt was reliable and lucrative, pirates began to raid it.

Hubert watched tensely as the pirate ships come closer and closer.  He was about to push the button when he noticed that the ships weren't exactly heading towards his, but would pass it by.  It would be a close pass and if someone was looking out a porthole there was a chance that they'd see his ship.

They were getting close enough that Hubert could see them through his own viewports.  The hulls of the pirate ships were covered with weapons ports.  He stared at more missile, laser and grappler ports than he had ever wanted to see in his life.

"We need to get out of here," Jeff whispered.

Hubert could tell that his son was scared.  He looked over at him and replied, "You don't have to whisper.  The vacuum of space prevents sounds from travelling to them."  He turned back to the pirate ships.  They were getting closer, but his experienced eye told him that they would pass them by.  "They're..."

Suddenly the lights in the cabin turned on and Hubert felt the throbbing of the engines as they started up.  Hubert quickly turned to see Jeff's hand on the startup button.  "What are you doing?" he yelled.

"I'm sorry, dad, but they are getting too close.  We need to get out of here," Jeff replied.

Hubert looked back at the pirate ships and knew that they had been spotted.  "Shit," he said under his breath as he buckled into his chair.  "Announce to the crew to buckle down.  It's going to be a rough ride."

Hubert frantically pressed buttons on his screen to get the ship up and running.  The radio lit up and Hubert pressed the button to turn it on.

"This is the Gaelic Pride calling the unidentified mining vessel.  Don't try to run.  We're faster and more agile than you and will catch you quickly," came the voice over the radio.

Hubert hit the send button and said, "Well said, pirate scum.  We'll take our chances."

"Fair enough.  We'll see you soon," came the reply.

Hubert angrily turned the radio off as the engines came online.  He punched the accelerator and began to navigate the belt as he tried to head towards Vesta.  Maybe he couldn't outrun the pirates, but he might be able to call for help.

Without diverting his attention from piloting the ship, Hubert said to Jeff, "Tell the family to assemble in the mess.  Take Devon and try to hide some of our stock in some of the cabins."

He punched some keys on the radio.  "Vesta Defense, this is Captain Hubert Watson of the mining vessel Memphis.  Do you read?"

Hubert weaved around some smaller asteroids as he waited for a response.  A few moments later he got one.  "Memphis, this is Vesta Defense.  We read you."

Hubert sighed in relief.  At least the pirates weren't jamming the radio.  He pushed the send button and said, "Vesta Defense, Memphis.  I need to declare an emergency.  I have two pirate raiders on my six.  I'm not sure I can make it back before they catch us."

A few moments later, "Memphis, Vesta Defense.  We're sending help.  We have your direction.  ETA, six minutes."

Hubert looked down at his radar and instantly knew that they probably didn't have six minutes.  He also knew that the pirates would have heard all of that and he just hoped that they didn't just blast them instead of trying to catch them.

A moment later Hubert knew that they were done when he heard loud clang of something hitting the hull.  They had latched a grappling line to the Memphis.  The engines started groaning as the pirate vessel cut her own engines and began to reel in the mining vessel.  Another clang was heard as they got another grappler onto the hull.

Hubert sighed as he cut the engines and locked the computer down.  He saw the other pirate vessel continue to head toward Vesta through the viewport.  It was probably going to try to buy this vessel some time to take as much as they could before help could arrive.

He got up and headed aft towards the cargo hold.  He ran into Jeff and Devon as they were leaving Jeff's quarters.  "Come with me," he said.  "They've got us."

Jeff and Devon fell into step behind Hubert.  Jeff asked, "What are we going to do?"

Hubert stopped and turned on Jeff.  "Nothing.  Nothing at all, do you hear me?  We'll let them take what they want and leave."

Jeff wasn't about to back down.  "Why?  They're just vultures!  We all worked hard to harvest all of this ore and water!"

Now Hubert was getting angry.  He yelled, "Why?  Because it's all just things!  Replaceable things!  What will you do if they decide to kill us all because we fought them?  Nothing but die.  If we let them take what they want and don't fight back they're likely to let us live to mine another day."

This time Jeff did back down.  He'd never seen his father this angry before.  Of course, they'd never encountered pirates before either.  The three of them entered the cargo bay just as there was a metallic knock on the airlock.

Hubert gestured that Jeff and Devon should stay where they were as he walked to the airlock and pushed the intercom button.  "Can I help you?" he asked.

The voice on the other side was gruff as it replied, "Stop wasting our time, miner.  We'll give you ten seconds to open the door or we'll start cutting through it with a torch."

Hubert knew that cutting through the door would take a very long time, but he also knew that the pirates might just decide to go back to their ship and destroy the mining vessel rather than let it get away so he pressed the open button on the control pad in front of him.

Six armed men stormed in.  Four of them surrounded Jeff and Devon as two of them grabbed Hubert and pushed him away from the control pad.  Another man, seemingly unarmed strode confidently through the hatch and moved in front of Hubert.

"I'm Shamus O'Leary, owner of the Gaelic Pride.  You Watson?" the man said.

Dejectedly, Hubert replied, "Yes.  Just take what you want and leave us alone."

Shamus nodded as he looked around the cargo bay.  "Oh, we will take what we want.  That's for sure.  As for that other part..."

Shamus pulled a dagger out of nowhere and stabbed it into Hubert's torso.  The two men holding him let him fall to his knees as he clutched his wound.  Jeff yelled a wordless cry as the two toughs near him grabbed him.

Shamus looked over to Jeff and said, "Ah, you must be his son."  He walked over to where Jeff was being held.  "You should know that I did that to teach all you miner scum a lesson.  "Resistance is both futile and illogical.  We have better weapons than you, we're faster than you and we travel in packs.  If you all just give us what we want without any fuss, we can be civilized about all of this."

Jeff growled, "Civilized!  You call murder of an innocent man civilized?"

Shamus shrugged as he cleaned his dagger and sheathed it in a hidden spot up his sleeve.  "We're prepared to do whatever it takes to get what we want.  Civilized or not."  He looked hard at Jeff.  "Are you going to give us any more trouble, or do I have to get my dagger out again?"

Jeff hung his head.  "No, take what you want and get out of here."

Shamus nodded.  "That's better."

He indicated that the toughs could let Jeff go and they did.  He ran to his father and held him in his lap.  He could tell that his father was dying.  He started crying as he said, "Dad, I'm so sorry."

Hubert's eyes fluttered open.  He weakly shook his head as he said weakly, "Don't be, son.  You just did what you thought was right.  We learn from mistakes, not from doing the right thing the first time."

Jeff's tears started running down his cheeks as his father continued, "Jeff... you're the Captain of the Memphis now."  Hubert grimaced in pain as he coughed some blood out onto the floor.  "Don't let your grandfather take that from you.  He might be the head of the family, but you were next in line for the ship."

Hubert closed his eyes for the last time as he lost consciousness.  Jeff felt Devon's hand on his shoulder as he cried over his father's body.  He hardly noticed as the pirates took half of the contents of the cargo hold.

Story a Week 10 - American Archeology

Welcome back readers! After a week of vacation and a day late, I bring you the next story in my Story a Week project. This is the second story that I'm presenting here that is not in the Frank Saga, so I hope that you like it. It's a little longer than most of the stories that I've posted, so I hope that you'll read the entire entry. I know that I've written mostly science fiction stuff, and I would like you all to know that I expect next week's post to be a little more genre neutral.

Since this is still a blog, I'll also let you all know that I have two non-story posts in the works, one of them will be about our trip to Hawaii. The other will be a surprise, of sorts, for now.

Now, I present to you, "American Archeology":

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Archeologist Bensen dug through the pile of trash in the latest excavation of one of Old America's small towns. He gasped when he found a solid plastic tub. Such finds were rare almost one hundred years after the end of the United States, and when you did find one, they almost always yielded good artifacts or cultural data.

Excitedly, Bensen cleared out the garbage surrounding the tub. It was one of the clear varieties, so Bensen could see the contents. Gingerly, he turned the tub around. Inside he saw some notebooks and... what were those flat round things? Oh, yeah, compact discs. Bensen shook his head, at the time of the fall, Americans had discovered solid state storage and they were still using inefficient and fragile compact discs?

He shook his head again as he stared into the tub. His boss would want to see this. "Doctor Toben! Doctor Toben!"

Bensen heard voices outside approaching the ruined house or whatever this building was one hundred years ago. Doctor Matthias Toben and another of his archeology students entered the building. Toben immediately spotted the tub and asked, "What have you got there, Bensen?"

"It's one of those old plastic tubs commonly used for storage, Doctor. It has several notebooks and some compact discs inside. There are some other miscellaneous items as well," Bensen replied. He hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "I'd like to have permission to bring it back to the lab and examine the contents myself."

Bensen could see the debate going on inside of his mentor's head. One the one hand, Bensen was a final year graduate student. On the other hand, who knows what new discoveries Bensen might destroy if he weren't careful.

Finally, Toben said, "Okay, you can examine your find. When you get to the field lab, have some undergrads observe you working. We'll kill two jets with one missile."

Bensen quickly surveyed the rest of the room for any other tubs or other valuable artifacts, but didn't see anything. He gently carried the tub out to one of the ATVs that the excavation team was using. He was so careful that it took him twice as long as normal to get back to the field lab. Once there, he told some undergrads to spread the word around that he'd be opening up something special.

Before the undergrads arrived, Bensen spent some time prepping the lab. When six or seven undergrads came into the lab, Bensen began. He put on gloves and carefully opened the lid. The smell of musty paper wafted out of the tub and into the lab. Bensen smiled, that smell was one of the many reasons that he loved this work.

He reached for the first notebook and carefully extracted it from the tub. He gently opened to the first page and gasped for the second time that day. "The contents of this notebook appear to be a journal."

One of the undergrads asked, "Is that good?"

Bensen answered without looking up, "Oh, yes. We have many surviving government records and other semi-reliable resources, but actual eye-witness accounts are often more accurate and reliable than governmental records. Also, we've uncovered details about the end of the United States that aren't in any official records."

Bensen began reading the journal, "November 24th, 2017. It's supposed to be Thanksgiving Day. The only thing that we have to be thankful for is that no bandits have come calling in the past six months. Ever since the Army was ordered to abandon Fort Ripley, the bandits have been able to travel over a wider range of territory and haven't come to Flensburg since then."

Bensen looked up at his audience. He said, "We know from our governmental records that Fort Ripley and many other smaller garrisons around the country were ordered to be abandoned on May 15th, 2017. The Army was trying to reorganize and consolidate their forces after the nuclear attacks earlier in that year."

He glanced down at the journal and scanned through the rest of the notebook. He stopped when he saw something interesting. He read, "March 26th, 2018. The power finally went out today. We'd known that it would eventually happen, but we were hoping that it would last until the spring was in full swing at least. We've been working really hard on a wall to surround the town and we should have it finished by summer."

Bensen looked up at the undergrad students. He said, "We knew that the Monticello Nuclear Plant went down sometime during the spring of 2018, but we never had a date before today. This is very exciting! Now, I know that this evidence isn't exactly decisive, anything could have happened to make this town lose power, but the evidence is very promising anyway."

Bensen flipped a couple of pages to the end of the notebook. He scanned it and grunted. He started to close the notebook when one of the undergrads asked, "What's it say?"

Bensen looked up. "Oh, probably not much of use, but I'll read it, if you like."

He saw all of the students nod and he continued reading, "July 4th, 2018. We had an Independence Day party today. The Mayor says that we need to remember that we were once a part of something bigger. Fat lot of good it does for us now. We still get short wave transmissions from what's left of the US Government when we bother to waste generator power on it. At least the fireworks were good, even though we used the last of them. Oh, and there was plenty to drink. In other news, some bandits came by yesterday for the first time since we completed the wall. They decided not to risk attacking us, which is good."

Bensen glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that the lab would be closing for the day in a few minutes. "We have time for one more entry," he said. He closed the notebook that he had open and gently pulled out the next one from the tub. He opened the notebook and said, "Oh, my. This journal begins before the nuclear attacks."

Bensen read out loud, "March 12th, 2017. I've decided to start keeping a journal. Things around the country and around the world are getting more and more alarming and I wanted to capture the events from my perspective. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to turn this into a bestselling novel after all of this stuff blows over.

"I better catch this journal up with current events of late. Where to begin? Well, President Jefferies was inaugurated into office two months ago which seemed to be the start of the world-wide protests against the US. Jefferies is a very conservative Christian. After he was elected, he started spouting out anti-Islamic and isolationist ideals that he had kept hidden before the election."

Bensen paused here to note, "That's not entirely true. When Jefferies was the governor of Texas, he was very much anti-immigration and used the state police to close the border with Mexico. When he started winning the primary elections for the Presidency, he quieted down about his foreign policy views and focused on improving the United States' export/import ratio and lowering taxes."

Bensen looked back down at the journal and continued reading, "At this point, no one is certain that the Minotaur virus is a biological weapon used against us, or if it's just a natural outbreak of a previously unknown virus. The government claims that the outbreak is contained, but most of the media outlets are telling us otherwise. There are unconfirmed reports of the disease having spread to each of the other continents. Russia is accusing the US government of purposely spreading the disease to other countries."

Bensen glanced at the clock again and noticed that it was a couple of minutes past closing time. Doctor Toben was standing there listening to Bensen read the journal. Bensen said, "It looks like it's time to go..." His audience collectively sighed. "I'm sure that I'll be going through these all tomorrow too."

The assembled undergrads filed out and Doctor Toben approached the table where Bensen was working. "I didn't hear much," the Doctor said, "but it all sounded very interesting."

Excitedly, Bensen nodded his head. "There's great stuff in here. Whoever the author is, they started the journal in March of 2017. I've already discovered some new information in the first one I flipped through."

Toben smiled and replied, "That's good. You can continue to work through these journals and whatever else is in that tub." Bensen smiled and was about to speak, but Toben held up his hand. "I expect detailed notes, the journals to be transcribed and indexed, and a full report when you're done."

Bensen's smile didn't run away as Toben was obviously expecting it to. "Of course, Doctor. I want to do everything by the book." Toben nodded, said goodbye and left.

As Bensen was gingerly putting the journals away he found himself looking forward to the next couple of weeks.