Chapter 4
Thursday, March 12, 2009, 7:15 AM
Scott awoke to the phone ringing. It took a few seconds before he realized he had left it in the living room by the computer. He debated letting it ring, but finally decided he needed to answer. He scrambled out his door, stumbling and catching his shoulder on the door frame and cursing loudly. He finally made it to the phone and answered in a muffled grimace of pain, “Hello?”
“Good morning, Mr. Carver. How are you this morning?” It was the Orson Welles digitized voice.
“Eric?” he instantly asked.
“Sorry, Scott, this particular program’s name is Mr. M.O.D. How are you this morning?” it asked.
“Umm, I’m a little tired, why do you ask?”
“Do you have enough energy for a trip?”
“How long of a trip?” Scott asked, writing a note about the call, sensing urgency. “Call from M.O.D., 7:15 am,” he wrote.
“Quite a while, Scott, perhaps months or years.”
“No, I mean how long will I be traveling?” he clarified.
“Oh, that won’t matter, you don’t have to drive – a car is waiting for you now. You don’t have any family you want to take with you, do you?”
Scott thought a second, “You already know that, so why ask?”
“Right. You will have 30 seconds to get outside; you will need nothing and can take nothing but the clothes on your back. Do you wish to join us?”
“You want me to decide in 30 seconds?” He was stunned.
“Of course not, but once you do decide, we will not allow you to take anything or even finish writing that note. I hope you understand.”
“What’s in it for me?” Scott asked as he stopped writing the note, looking around suspiciously.
“Ah. The offer. I nearly forgot. I assumed you would come willingly no matter what. As I said before, I’m not perfect. Yes, the standard offer is ten times your current salary plus full medical and dental benefits, free room and board, and we will care for your current residence, and any pets – which you have none – and any family members you wish to help support in your name.”
Scott’s eyebrows shot up, “I assume you know my salary?”
“To the penny, of course.”
“What’s the catch?” he asked, curiously.
“The catch? You will not be allowed to contact anyone outside of the M.O.D. unless instructed to do so until we have resurrected this country’s democracy,” M.O.D. told him honestly.
“I have a grandmother in a nursing home in Sarasota.”
“She will be fully supported for life,” M.O.D. said easily. “Anyone else?”
“I haven’t agreed to go yet,” Scott cautioned.
“You will,” M.O.D. stated confidently.
“What makes you so sure?” he challenged.
“Because it’s what you believe in.”
“What about Sheelia?” he asked, slightly worried, looking around for a way to let her know what happened.
“She will decide on her own, in due time. Do you wish to contact her?”
“Yes, I do. But that’s not allowed, is it?”
“You can call her from the car. Do you wish to join us?”
Feeling a rush like going over a crest in a rollercoaster at high speed, Scott wasted no time pondering the conditions. “Yes, you will give me time to get dressed, right?”
“Of course; you have 30 seconds.”
Scott was already on his way back to his room. “I accept then,” he said, and hung up.
Hurriedly, Scott grabbed a casual shirt and jeans, jumped into them, and headed for the door. He considered his gun, cell phone, wallet, but bravely left them all behind. He walked out into the warm, humid morning to see a black limo with impenetrable tinted windows, aimed at the road with the back door hanging open. He took a deep breath, and climbed in.
Instantly, M.O.D.’s image popped up on a TV screen in the limo, the doors locked, and the driver pulled out. There was no barrier between him and the front seat – he could easily attack the driver if he wanted. This confused him. Breakfast was also waiting for him – his favorite – hot flaky biscuits and gravy, savory sausage and over-easy eggs, and a tall frosty glass of orange juice.
“Glad to have you aboard, Scott, would you like to contact Sheelia now?” M.O.D. asked.
“Sure thanks, how do…” he started to ask, and then heard a phone ringing. “Uh, anything I’m not allowed to say?”
“No. Say what you wish. We can elude them if you try to help them find us.” Confident.
“Hello?” Sheelia answered groggily.
“Hey, Shee, guess where I am?”
“Uh, your name doesn’t show on the caller ID.”
“I’m in a limo. I got a call from M.O.D. a few minutes ago and agreed to join, isn’t that great?” he was trying to sound excited.
“Uh, no, that’s not great, Scott. Did you happen to think before throwing your life away?” She sounded angry.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems like the only right thing to do. I don’t have a family to worry about except for Granny, and they’ve promised to take care of her for life. I can help change the world, Shee!”
“Really? What if you change your mind and they decide to kill you? What else did they offer?” she asked accusingly.
“Uh, ten times my salary, full health coverage; they’ll take care of my house for as long as it takes… hell of a promotion, if you ask me.”
“Sounds more like a bribe to me,” she disgustedly spat. “Did you happen to think of how you’d be paid, if at all? Maybe you’ll be a slave, or…”
“Sheelia, stop worrying, this feels right! I was a slave; now I feel free! You should be happy for me.”
“OK Scott, fine. If you want to throw your life away, you can, but it was dumb to call me, cuz you know I’m going to try to find you in your limo,” she vowed.
M.O.D. chuckled. “M.O.D. says he can elude you easily, and I believe him.”
“She’s welcome to try,” M.O.D. said casually.
Sheelia picked up her cell phone, deciding to call in help. She figured a black limo wouldn’t be hard to spot at 7:00 in the morning. “Hello, Sheelia, this phone is temporarily unable to call reinforcements,” the M.O.D. voice said as soon as she dialed.
She slammed down the phone and stormed over to her computer, “Jerk cut off my phone!” she hissed into her other phone, then brought up her e-mail program and typed a quick message to her entire division, over 60 people on her contact list, and sent it out. All of them bounced back instantly. She clicked on one and read, “Unable to deliver until Scott is safe.”
“Ugh! Jerk!” she screamed at the computer screen.
“Sheelia, don’t bother. I’ll be fine,” Scott tried to calm her.
“What if they kill you? I won’t even know. I’m going to drive down there and track you!”
M.O.D.’s voice broke in, “Your car has been remotely disabled by satellite, Sheelia, but to ease your concerns, we’ll make sure Scott calls and e-mails you often.”
“See what I mean about control, Scott? He has total…”
“Sheelia, I’ll call you later, I promise. Stop worrying.”
She sighed, “Fine. Talk to you later then. Be careful, Scott.”
“I will, and I hope to see you soon. Bye Shee.”
Sheelia stared at her phone for several minutes, replaying the conversation in her head. Was Scott playing his role? Infiltrating M.O.D.? Or was he really acting out his desires? She wasn’t sure anymore. And what did he mean by “hope to see you soon?” Did he expect her to join? Did he expect to win M.O.D.’s trust and bring him down soon? Or did he expect to overthrow the government soon? She wasn’t sure of anything.
Scott leaned back and sighed. “You two aren’t romantically involved, are you?” M.O.D. suddenly asked, startling him.
“No, never have been either. We’ve been partners and friends for a while, that’s all.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I’ll leave you to your breakfast; just ask for me if you have any questions.”
“I have one. Where am I going?”
“Right now, Orlando International where you will board a plane to join us at our base.”
“Which is where?”
“In due time, Scott, in due time. I will personally meet you there. Enjoy your ride.” With that, he signed off.
Scott ate his breakfast, remarking at how perfectly prepared it was, watching the city thin out as he left it, eventually passing nothing but orange groves and farms, flat as far as the eye could see. He arrived at the airport at about 9:00 and was driven directly to a large jet – an old 727 he guessed. The driver, who hadn’t spoken a word during the entire trip, told him this was his plane. He climbed out of the back seat of the limo and crossed the tarmac to the boarding stairs. Once inside, he was handed a drink and shown to a seat by a pleasant young woman. Several others were nervously seated around the sumptuous area. The furnishings made the passenger section look more like an upscale hotel lobby than an airplane.
“We have two more coming before we lift off,” the attendant told him. He just nodded absently, checking out the others around him.
Less than ten minutes later, with all passengers on board, they began to taxi into the lift-off queue. Once in the air, they headed west, over the Gulf of Mexico. Scott paid close attention to where they were at all times, judging properly that they had returned to land over the eastern part of Texas, flying in a northwesterly direction.
During the flight, Scott talked to a few fellow passengers, mostly speculating about where they were headed or what it would be like. Many of the people had family with them, mostly a spouse only, but half a dozen children romped around the plane as well. Scott found himself in the company of four US soldiers, a DEA agent, eight or nine business leaders, and another couple dozen average people, ranging from a starving actor to a truck driver. They all had one thing in common – they wanted their country back and were willing to sacrifice for it.
As they traveled further north, it became apparent to Scott they were on a direct course to the Rocky Mountains – he could see them rising slowly in the distance. Eventually, they turned more northerly and flew along the east side of the mountain range until the pilot announced they were preparing to land.
“Where? There’s no airport up here!” Scott commented, although he wasn’t exactly sure where “here” was; he only knew it was probably in Wyoming. There were certainly cities with airports to the east, but the pilot was flying down into the mountains, eventually leveling off and slowing to minimal speed just hundreds of feet above the dense forest of a basin, and they were heading right toward a mountain that was easily two and a half miles high. As the plane descended into the tree tops, a faintly noticeable line formed and widened ahead of them. Scott realized he was looking at a landing strip that disappeared into the mountain. The runway seemed to be covered with a camouflaged tarp that was being retracted as they dropped to meet it, spreading wide enough to easily accommodate the jet as they touched down.
They coasted to a moderate speed and continued down the secret runway and into a well-concealed tunnel of immense size carved into the mountainside. Lights flicked on and guided them to a hangar half a mile inside.
The passengers gaped in awe at the staggering array of planes, tanks and other equipment carefully parked about in this enormous underground bunker.
“Look, Dad, it’s a stealth bomber!” one wide-eye boy pointed out.
As they cruised by, Scott noticed there were six in all. An entire fleet of fighter jets lined the endless rows, parked diagonally for easy scrambling. Tanks stretched down one tunnel as far as the eye could see, and cargo planes occupied a giant holding bay/tunnel. At the end of the main runway was a docking area where passengers could load and unload from the fleet of private jets at any of eight gates. Two dozen more jets sat idle around the port, and spaces for two dozen more were noticeably empty. Their pilot taxied them up to gate One and waited for the umbilical tube to extend and lock on to their fuselage. A few minutes later they were deplaning.
Scott emerged from the tube into a plain, concrete room. Several “guides” lined the wall, each assigned to one person or family to show them around. Each peeled off the wall upon seeing their charge enter, and escorted them away. As the last one left, Scott remained alone. For an instant he was panicked and confused, but then a man hurried into the room. He was a few inches short of six feet tall, with a slightly overweight medium build. He had a dark, receding patch of hair atop his head, streaked with gray around the ears. He was by no means good-looking or athletic, but he held a confident, genuine air about him. He was dressed in comfortable sweat shorts and a T-shirt bearing the album cover of Megadeth’s album, “Peace sells, but who’s buying?”
The man came straight at Scott and extended a hand. “Sorry I’m late, I get swarmed everywhere I go sometimes. I’m Eric. Glad to meet you, Scott.”
Scott took the proffered hand and exchanged a firm handshake. “M.O.D.?” he asked.
“Well, sort of, yeah. All of us are M.O.D., but please, call me Eric,” he answered, releasing his grip and motioning toward the only other exit besides the one leading back to the plane. “We should get moving. I’m sure you want to see the evil lair,” Eric joked.
Scott looked at his T-shirt. “Megadeth?” he asked facetiously.
Eric smiled warmly, “I was going to wear my Metallica ‘Kill Em All’ shirt, but I figured that may be overly appropriate.”
Scott studied him seriously, briefly, then realized it was a joke and chuckled weakly.
“I’m sorry if I’m not exactly what you pictured, Scott. My FBI file picture was taken 15 years ago,” he apologized.
“Oh, no, it’s not that. I’m stunned by a lot of things, but your appearance the least of them,” he said carefully.
“Hmm… are you referring to the stockpile of equipment or the enormity of our operation or our touristy hospitality?” Eric asked with a smirk.
“All of the above, and more… but yeah, I expected a power suit and tie, too. Do you mind if I ask some questions…”
Eric cut him off, motioning again for the exit, “Please, ask all the questions you want – we are here to give any answers we can.”
Scott began walking, entering a long hallway that he could see opened into a large room where all eight gates converged. “Do you always greet your new recruits?” Scott asked.
“Often, but not always. I’m fairly busy. Usually just the more promising ones, to be honest,” he answered.
“I was expecting more rigid control…”
Eric laughed, “Nobody here is a prisoner, Scott, despite what the President may suggest. And we don’t kill people after blackmailing them to steal something either. Everyone you see here is a volunteer, basically. Although, if we were attacked, you’d see an army engulf this area quickly and secure it.”
Scott glanced around to see people moving about comfortably. They entered the hub, which had several tunnels leading from it, each labeled “Wing A”, “Wing B”, etc. There were five of those.
Eric started to explain, “Each wing is like a city in itself, with our operations center between them. There are 22 wings right now, spread around the central complex. Each wing expands up and down 20 floors in either direction at this point; the central complex is currently 55 levels…’
“Whoa! How big is this place?” Scott asked, blown away.
“Huge. At this point, I can only estimate.”
“How many people are living here?”
Eric started them off toward Wing A, “Currently, about 525,000.”
As they entered Wing A, Scott got his first glimpse of one of their “city” sections. It looked like a suburban mall, with park benches, shrubbery, and street lights. Shops and residences co-mingled along the walkway with stair and elevator access every few hundred feet. People strolled about as if on a Sunday shopping trip.
“Half a million people? Underground? This isn’t just some thrown-together operation, this is a lifelong project! How did you do all of this?” Scott wondered aloud.
“Well,” Eric started to explain, “It is a life-long project. A dream, really. I dreamed it up when I was about ten years old when I opened my first bank account – with someone else’s money, as you probably guessed,” he admitted.
“When did you start building it?”
“In 1987. I was 19, and in college. That’s when I began realizing this country was going down the shitter. I began hiring engineers and workers and found this place. It was well-hidden, rarely traveled…”
“Where are we? The Rockies?”
“Close. We’re actually in the Bighorn Mountain range, at the foot of Cloud Peak. The entrance is in the Bighorn Basin, which lies between the Rocky Mountains and Bighorn. This narrow valley was formed by runoff streams that flow into the Norwood River and seemed like the perfect concealment. A friend of mine decided you could hide a small country in here, so we did.”
“This must have cost a fortune,” Scott said in awe, looking around at the result of the incredible feat.
Eric laughed. “Several fortunes. I’ve been siphoning money from banks and companies around the world for 30 years, Scott, the majority coming from rich oil nations who scarcely missed it.”
“How much?” Scott asked, amazed.
“I’d have to estimate, again.”
“Estimate, please,” Scott encouraged.
“If I had to guess, I’d say around 40 trillion dollars.”
Scott’s jaw dropped. “So, those thefts of yours were just a distraction? A couple million dollars to cover up trillions?” Scott guessed.
Eric grinned. “It’s not cheap carving a country out of a 13,000 foot mountain in a remote area without getting caught, Scott.”
Scott laughed at this defense, “I would guess not.”
“Freedom does have a price.”
“I suppose. How long have you lived here?” he then asked.
“Permanently? Only the last two years or so. Would you like to see my home? It’s just up ahead.”
“Sure, why not?” Scott answered gladly. “You do realize you’ve admitted to several huge felonies, right?” he suddenly added.
“Is this Scott, the relentless FBI agent talking or Scott, the revolutionary?” Eric stopped and asked.
“Scott, the curiously amazed,” he said with a smile.
“I realize fully and accept responsibility for everything I’ve done for this country, be it against its own laws, for its own good. However, I could never accept punishment from an illegitimate country, though, if that’s what you’re wondering. You’re not still planning on arresting me are you?”
“What if I was?” Scott challenged.
Eric stopped again, not with a hard look, but a knowing smile, “You know, Scott, that I can listen in on your conversations through your computer’s microphone, your telephone and your cell phones, even when they’re not in use?”
Scott was startled. “You’re saying you could listen… you heard us talking about…”
Eric nodded. “Your plan. To get recruited?”
“Wow. So you know… Why did you still recruit me then?” Scott was beginning to feel a cold sweat wash over him.
“Because you wanted to join us, Scott, you always have.”
“What makes you think that? Do you profile people or something?” Scott asked, confused.
Eric pointed at a few people, “Does anyone seem to not want to be here, Scott?”
Scott stared at several people, studying them. “No,” he finally answered.
“Have you heard of anyone leaving us?”
Scott shook his head no.
“You assumed we really just killed deserters?”
Scott didn’t answer, but watched a woman pushing a stroller.
“Nobody has ever asked to leave, Scott. Nobody.”
“This is a paradise to them?” he asked.
“Very much so. And yes, we profiled everyone. We have the best psychological consultants. There is no crime here, no financial worries, the best health care and facilities, education beyond your wildest dreams; we have ten-year-olds here doing third year college calculus, willingly. We have state-of-the-art sports and entertainment venues and even our own production company. Everyone works, but nobody complains. They set their own hours, they want for nothing. Do you realize how eagerly people will work for something they believe in if they have the tools necessary to do so? We have achieved so much here. We cured cancer four years ago. Through unlimited medical research, we have developed technologies far beyond the rest of the world. You wouldn’t even begin to understand all the advances we’ve made after you’ve been here a year. We produce all of the food and water we need here, eliminate all waste, we’re completely self-sustaining, if we want to be.”
Scott’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You cured cancer? Why don’t you share it with the world? Or all the other technologies?”
“We will, Scott. We will. Please, let’s go to the house and you can see a few more of our achievements for yourself,” Eric led on again.
“The cure for cancer… did you arrive at it by…”
“Questionable means? Inhuman research?” Eric completed.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll let you read all about it – it’s quite fascinating, really. But your answer is no. It was totally solved by computer model. You see, Scott, here physicists work with philosophers, mathematicians work with doctors. We all pour the sum of our knowledge into every problem and solve it. No ego boundaries collide here, just radically passionate cooperation. Every idea, no matter how outrageous it may sound, is considered,” Eric tried to explain.
Scott was starting to feel faintly dizzy from all the staggering revelations, literally overwhelmed by the enormity of the advancements made in this environment. What other accomplishments were possible with such unlimited resources and uninhibited cooperation. “Have you found life on other planets?” Scott asked facetiously as they stopped outside Eric’s house.
Eric paused as he reached for the doorknob and turned to face Scott. He laughed, “Not definitely, but we have found positive signs. What we have found are hundreds of planets to colonize, and we’re just a few years away from our first extra-solar mission.”
“Why not start with Mars?” Scott mocked.
Eric opened the door and waved him in, “It wasn’t an ideal location for colonization on the surface. Trust me; the places we found are much better than…”
“Daddy!” A child came streaking into the entryway and into Eric’s arms. She was thin and wiry with short, brown hair. He lifted her off the ground in a hug.
“How’s my little angel?” he laughed as he swung her around before setting her down. “Where are the others?” he asked.
“They’re swimming with Karla,” she answered, indicating her bathing suit.
Curious, Scott asked, “You have a pool in your house?”
Eric nodded. “Karla’s their babysitter. Brandy, why don’t you go swim with them while I show our new friend around?”
The girl nodded and smiled. “Does our friend have a name?” she asked.
“Scott,” Scott answered.
She extended a hand. “Hi, Scott, I’m Brandy. It’s very nice to meet you. Welcome to our home,” she said politely.
Scott shook her hand lightly and she grinned happily.
“OK, run along now, Brandy,” Eric told her. She giggled and scampered off.
Eric followed the same direction his daughter had taken with Scott closely behind.
They first entered the living room. “Now that’s a TV,” Scott commented. It was 10 foot wide, taking up an entire wall. He then heard a phone ring and a holographic image of a young Chinese man appeared on the coffee table.
“Oh, let me get that,” Eric said as he took the call.
When the caller finished updating Eric about a new shipment of sidewinder missiles and had hung up, Scott commented, “Holographic phones?”
“I did mention technological advances, didn’t I?”
Scott marveled at dozens of things he saw on the way to the pool, and then was amazed again. The pool was 50 yards long, had two diving boards, two water slides, a tube ride and a river that wound a hundred yards through an incredibly colorful garden. There was a fountain and waterfall along the path where everything from tulips to tomatoes grew. “Wow. It pays to be king,” Scott said.
Eric grinned like a cat who’d caught a mouse, “Oh, no. Every home is like this. I live no better than anyone else.”
Scott’s jaw dropped another inch.
“Do you still need me to stay, Mr. Williams?” Eric’s perky babysitter asked after coming out of a slide with one of the girls – Scott couldn’t tell if it was Brandy or her sister, identical twins… same bathing suit.
“Yes, Karla, if you don’t mind. I’m just showing Scott around. Thanks,” he replied after she readily agreed, then turned to Scott, “This way. I’ll show you my command center.”
Scott slowly followed him through another archway, turning back to watch the kids play, reluctant to leave the amazingly breathtaking scene.
Eric led him past a handball court where his two sons were smashing balls against the walls in total silence. “Yeah, soundproof,” Eric pointed out.
“Nice.”
They passed three more doors down another hallway before entering a large, open room with dozens of monitors and another, even larger, screen behind them all. “Oh my… Big Brother?” Scott said dryly.
“Good analogy, but far more powerful.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“You’re right, you can’t. From here, I can do just about anything – control any satellite around the globe, hack any computer, watch anyone. Wanna check on your partner?” Eric asked, motioning him to have a seat.
Scott loved computers and gadgets – he was in heaven. “Sure! Why not? How do we do that?”
Eric took his own seat, “First, we find her. Gertrude, find Sheelia Tanner, Vero Beach, Florida.”
A holographic image popped up, a globe of the world, zooming in on the area. One spot blinked. Using his hand, Scott manipulated it to zoom in and locate her cell phone, car, and pager. All at the same place – driving out Route 60. Icons flashed near her location. Eric waited for her car to stop, and then touched an icon that looked like a camera and flicked it toward the big screen. It instantly popped up a grainy image, a traffic camera view of her car at the light. He zoomed in.
Despite the poor video quality inherent in traffic cameras, Scott immediately recognized Sheelia through the windshield, impatiently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “Shit!” he blurted.
“Yeah, nice, huh?” Eric grinned. He clicked on her car icon and then on a speaker symbol. The audio from inside her car was easily recognizable as Sheelia singing along with a Jewel song playing on the car stereo.
Eric then clicked on several other cameras surrounding Sheelia’s car.
“ATM cam? Security camera at a convenience store?” Scott asked, as more images appeared on the monitors.
Eric smiled, “Wanna talk to her?”
“Sure! That would be awesome.”
Eric pushed the microphone icon beside the car and spoke into the air, “Hello, this is not On-Star, would you like to talk to Agent Scott Carver?” he said in a professional voice.
Sheelia jumped a good six inches and frantically groped to turn off the radio, “What?” she managed to croak.
Eric nudged Scott to answer. “Uh, hi Sheelia.”
“Scott! Oh my god! Where are you Scott?” she asked as her head swiveled from side to side, desperately trying to locate the source of his voice.
Scott looked at Eric, who seemed unconcerned. “Uh, I’m, uh, sitting in front of the most amazing computer system in the world. This whole place is unbelievable Shee.”
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Uh, Sheelia, the light is green; would you like me to make it red again?” Eric said, chuckling.
She looked up and saw that it had changed. Luckily there were no cars behind her. She hit the gas and pulled into a shopping center parking lot. “How did you do that?”
Eric held up a hand to Scott, indicating for him not to answer, and then typed a message that Scott didn’t see at first. A few seconds later, Sheelia screamed, “How did you do THAT?” She was staring up at a hotel’s digital sign that read, “We see all, Sheelia.” She freaked out and climbed out of the car, doing a complete 360 looking for any other messages.
“Nice outfit,” Eric commented, merely to confuse her more.
“You can see me?” she screeched at the car.
“Yes.”
“How many fingers am I holding up then?” she challenged.
“That’s not a very nice gesture, Miss Tanner,” Eric teased.
“I’ll show you not very nice, asshole!” she growled.
Eric pushed her cell phone icon and caused it to ring, startling her again. She looked at the display, which displayed “M.O.D.” She answered, “What the hell have you done with my partner!?”
“Chill, Shee, we’re just having fun,” Scott tried to sooth her.
“Having fun? My hair is standing up on the back of my neck and I’m about to wet myself! How can you say to chill, Scott!”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? This place is amazing. Really. I’m not kidding. You should see it.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “So they have brainwashed you already?”
“No.”
“Threatened you?”
“No.”
“Right. I can’t see you right now – they could have a gun to your head…” Her phone beeped and she instinctively held it up to look at the display. It held a full room view of Scott sitting at his console in real-time video. “Holy shit, Scott! What is that place? NORAD? NASA’s space command center?”
He laughed teasingly, “Nothing so primitive, Shee. We can literally do anything in the digital world from here, I think…”
Eric nodded calmly. Sheelia could almost see Eric’s face.
“I mean you’d have to ask umm… M.O.D. about it, but I can see security cameras, computers, display boards, phones, cars, just about everything connected around you. I’m pretty sure we can control any and all of them, too,” Scott continued as he glanced at Eric, who merely nodded again.
“Why can’t you tell me where you are, Scott?” she asked angrily. Somehow, she knew the answer. He didn’t say it though. “Is it because they won’t let you?” she insisted.
“Sheelia, there’s a reason why nobody has ever left this place, and it’s not threats or force.”
She slumped back against the hood of her car. “So you really have joined them?” she hatefully spat.
“Yes, Shee, I have. You should too. Seriously.”
“I will never join a terrorist group, Scott, and I never thought I’d see the day you would either!” she barked.
Eric pointed to a button on the display, marked “horn” on her car. Scott smiled and pressed it. Sheelia suddenly flew from the hood of the car, screaming into the phone, “You asshole!”
Laughing, Scott said, “Sorry, Shee, I just couldn’t resist. You should at least come check it out. I’m sure we could blindfold and drug you or something if that would make you more comfortable,” Scott teased.
“The only way I’m coming there is to blow the place up!” she vowed. “I don’t know what these people have been feeding you, but you should know better than to fall for it. I hope for your sake you’re not in there when it comes crumbling down!”
“Jeez, Sheelia, how could you say…”
“You’ve betrayed your country and you’ve betrayed me!”
“Our country betrayed both of us and you’re betraying yourself, Sheelia,” he shot back.
“I can’t believe you, Scott!” she yelled and hung up. She leaned back on the car again and fought to contain herself. Tears were struggling to the surface, and only her fear that they were watching her kept them at bay. Was he serious? Was he just playing their game? Was he trying to earn their trust so he could get in tight enough to cripple them? She clung to that hope, but knew it was false.
Scott started to call her back.
“Give her time, Scott,” Eric wisely told him.
With her head bowed as she stood silently, Scott continued to monitor her through a department store’s external video camera, wondering what she was thinking.
“She’s trying to figure out if you’re playing a con on me or if you’re serious,” Eric said as if reading his mind.
“Either that, or plotting her own way to infiltrate and destroy us,” Scott decided.
“Either way, she’s not ready yet. But she will be,” Eric said calmly.
“I hope so. She can be a real bitch of an enemy.”
Eric laughed, “I can believe that. Would you like to see more or go to your own home?”
“When do I need to start earning my keep?” Scott asked.
“Whenever you’re settled in and want to,” Eric stated frankly.
“In that case, I’m dead tired, but if I don’t have to work tomorrow, I’d love to see more!” Scott decided easily.
Eric showed him around the rest of the house and then they toured many of the facilities, from food processing plants to weapons manufacturing and factories. They visited several electronics plants where Eric showed him how they designed and produced computers that outperformed the rest of the world’s by 100 times in both speed and capacity, visited a medical research facility where he witnessed a synthetic heart being designed, and watched a young girl who was paralyzed from the waist down undergo surgery to restore all function to her limbs. Eric explained that spinal surgery had become routine lately. He also learned of a more controversial practice of altering DNA of unborn babies who would otherwise have had some type of physical or mental disability. Although he didn’t completely agree with the practice, he admired the scientific breakthrough.
When Scott finally decided he was too tired to go on, Eric led him to his own personal paradise and quickly showed him how he could order the furniture, decorations, and any equipment he desired to replace or augment the standard furnishings. He explained the voice-controlled systems and showed him all the basic interactions with the holographic phones and computers. He finished by explaining that all information, as well as help on anything else he wanted to use or know, was easily accessible from the computer by voice or hand command. Satisfied that Scott was properly prepared to go it alone, Eric invited him to call in the morning. Scott agreed, and Eric left.
Despite his weariness, curiosity got the better of him and he eagerly checked out his new home. It was every bit as large as Eric’s, just as Eric had promised. The pool area was unadorned and he didn’t have all the same equipment, but he was certain all he had to do was request it. The home was three stories, with glass floors in the hallways. Several of the rec rooms, such as the basketball/tennis courts and pool areas, were the full three stories high. Each of the five bedrooms overlooked the pool area and had solid glass walls, as did the living room and dining room. The only complaint Scott had was that it was too big for him alone.
His tour stopped at his room, where he kicked off his shoes, told the TV to find him the Sci-fi channel, and collapsed on the bed. His last conscious thought was of Sheelia, wondering what she was doing.
Sheelia wasn’t doing so well. She had spent the rest of the day frantically locating all available underlings assigned to the case. She directed the entire force to follow her only lead, the limo. She searched Scott’s home herself for any signs that would help, finding nothing of any use. She sat heavily on the edge of his unmade bed and put her head in her hands, thoroughly discouraged by her lack of progress, and desperately racking her brain for any inspiration about her next step. She knew she would have to report to her boss soon, and she hadn’t even informed him that Scott was gone.
She did find a tire track from the limo outside his condo. Unfortunately, hundreds of limos around the state used the exact same tires. In the meantime, she had Abe tearing apart the entire cyberworld for any possible trace of M.O.D.
Later that evening, Sheelia was sitting at her desk in her office, reading various reports from her agents about the numerous limos they had tracked down that day, when Abe came in with a report.
“Sheelia, I think we’re on to something here,” he said, dragging the hundred and twenty page report behind him.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Well, while I was running reports on all the missing persons and limos, I noticed many of them coincided, and then I found they all ended up at airports. So I took a look at flights from each of those airports and found that each group of limos corresponded to a plane leaving an airport shortly after the last limos arrived,” he explained in an excited rush.
“OK... and you know where those planes went?” she prompted.
His excitement declined greatly. “Well, yes and no.”
“Yes and no?”
“OK, each plane was destined for airports outside the country, according to their flight plans…”
“And? So what’s the problem?”
“None of them reached their destinations. We weren’t aware of this, of course, because we don’t normally monitor foreign airports like we do our own.”
“Couldn’t we track them?” she then asked.
“Yes and no.”
“I don’t like your yes and no answers!”
“Sorry, Sheelia, but we can’t track them outside of the US.”
“So they definitely are outside of the country?”
Abe hesitated, shifting from foot to foot.
“Let me guess, yes and no?” she asked with a sigh.
“Well… right. These planes are coming back into the country days later, but they haven’t been seen at any of their presumed destinations.”
“So they’re landing on giant airports in the oceans?” Sheelia took a wild stab.
Abe laughed, “If they were, we’d certainly be able to detect something of that size from space. No, I think they are coming back into the country; going out to sea is just a ruse,” he speculated.
“Uh, but you said you could track them from radar history... so it would be impossible for them to come back without showing up on radar, right?”
He sighed. “Normally, I would say that it’s impossible for them to come back without showing up on radar, but there have always been ways of eluding radar detection. Still, I thought a near-sonic jet incapable of doing so, especially in mountainous areas…”
“But?”
“But, then I took a look at radar records of when the military aircraft were stolen. They um, just simply disappeared from radar, even a huge old C-130. Now, I know from research that a C-130 can’t possibly avoid radar at 10,000 feet or more, like many of the planes did, so that leaves me with…”
“M.O.D. hacked the radar installations,” she completed.
“Precisely. As usual, I would say that’s impossible, but everything this guy does is impossible and he makes it look easy. To do this on such a large scale is mind-boggling, one would think he would make a mistake, but his work is flawless.”
Sheelia slumped down in her seat. “I’m in over my head,” she mumbled.
“We all are,” Abe agreed.
Thursday, March 12, 2009, 7:15 AM
Scott awoke to the phone ringing. It took a few seconds before he realized he had left it in the living room by the computer. He debated letting it ring, but finally decided he needed to answer. He scrambled out his door, stumbling and catching his shoulder on the door frame and cursing loudly. He finally made it to the phone and answered in a muffled grimace of pain, “Hello?”
“Good morning, Mr. Carver. How are you this morning?” It was the Orson Welles digitized voice.
“Eric?” he instantly asked.
“Sorry, Scott, this particular program’s name is Mr. M.O.D. How are you this morning?” it asked.
“Umm, I’m a little tired, why do you ask?”
“Do you have enough energy for a trip?”
“How long of a trip?” Scott asked, writing a note about the call, sensing urgency. “Call from M.O.D., 7:15 am,” he wrote.
“Quite a while, Scott, perhaps months or years.”
“No, I mean how long will I be traveling?” he clarified.
“Oh, that won’t matter, you don’t have to drive – a car is waiting for you now. You don’t have any family you want to take with you, do you?”
Scott thought a second, “You already know that, so why ask?”
“Right. You will have 30 seconds to get outside; you will need nothing and can take nothing but the clothes on your back. Do you wish to join us?”
“You want me to decide in 30 seconds?” He was stunned.
“Of course not, but once you do decide, we will not allow you to take anything or even finish writing that note. I hope you understand.”
“What’s in it for me?” Scott asked as he stopped writing the note, looking around suspiciously.
“Ah. The offer. I nearly forgot. I assumed you would come willingly no matter what. As I said before, I’m not perfect. Yes, the standard offer is ten times your current salary plus full medical and dental benefits, free room and board, and we will care for your current residence, and any pets – which you have none – and any family members you wish to help support in your name.”
Scott’s eyebrows shot up, “I assume you know my salary?”
“To the penny, of course.”
“What’s the catch?” he asked, curiously.
“The catch? You will not be allowed to contact anyone outside of the M.O.D. unless instructed to do so until we have resurrected this country’s democracy,” M.O.D. told him honestly.
“I have a grandmother in a nursing home in Sarasota.”
“She will be fully supported for life,” M.O.D. said easily. “Anyone else?”
“I haven’t agreed to go yet,” Scott cautioned.
“You will,” M.O.D. stated confidently.
“What makes you so sure?” he challenged.
“Because it’s what you believe in.”
“What about Sheelia?” he asked, slightly worried, looking around for a way to let her know what happened.
“She will decide on her own, in due time. Do you wish to contact her?”
“Yes, I do. But that’s not allowed, is it?”
“You can call her from the car. Do you wish to join us?”
Feeling a rush like going over a crest in a rollercoaster at high speed, Scott wasted no time pondering the conditions. “Yes, you will give me time to get dressed, right?”
“Of course; you have 30 seconds.”
Scott was already on his way back to his room. “I accept then,” he said, and hung up.
Hurriedly, Scott grabbed a casual shirt and jeans, jumped into them, and headed for the door. He considered his gun, cell phone, wallet, but bravely left them all behind. He walked out into the warm, humid morning to see a black limo with impenetrable tinted windows, aimed at the road with the back door hanging open. He took a deep breath, and climbed in.
Instantly, M.O.D.’s image popped up on a TV screen in the limo, the doors locked, and the driver pulled out. There was no barrier between him and the front seat – he could easily attack the driver if he wanted. This confused him. Breakfast was also waiting for him – his favorite – hot flaky biscuits and gravy, savory sausage and over-easy eggs, and a tall frosty glass of orange juice.
“Glad to have you aboard, Scott, would you like to contact Sheelia now?” M.O.D. asked.
“Sure thanks, how do…” he started to ask, and then heard a phone ringing. “Uh, anything I’m not allowed to say?”
“No. Say what you wish. We can elude them if you try to help them find us.” Confident.
“Hello?” Sheelia answered groggily.
“Hey, Shee, guess where I am?”
“Uh, your name doesn’t show on the caller ID.”
“I’m in a limo. I got a call from M.O.D. a few minutes ago and agreed to join, isn’t that great?” he was trying to sound excited.
“Uh, no, that’s not great, Scott. Did you happen to think before throwing your life away?” She sounded angry.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems like the only right thing to do. I don’t have a family to worry about except for Granny, and they’ve promised to take care of her for life. I can help change the world, Shee!”
“Really? What if you change your mind and they decide to kill you? What else did they offer?” she asked accusingly.
“Uh, ten times my salary, full health coverage; they’ll take care of my house for as long as it takes… hell of a promotion, if you ask me.”
“Sounds more like a bribe to me,” she disgustedly spat. “Did you happen to think of how you’d be paid, if at all? Maybe you’ll be a slave, or…”
“Sheelia, stop worrying, this feels right! I was a slave; now I feel free! You should be happy for me.”
“OK Scott, fine. If you want to throw your life away, you can, but it was dumb to call me, cuz you know I’m going to try to find you in your limo,” she vowed.
M.O.D. chuckled. “M.O.D. says he can elude you easily, and I believe him.”
“She’s welcome to try,” M.O.D. said casually.
Sheelia picked up her cell phone, deciding to call in help. She figured a black limo wouldn’t be hard to spot at 7:00 in the morning. “Hello, Sheelia, this phone is temporarily unable to call reinforcements,” the M.O.D. voice said as soon as she dialed.
She slammed down the phone and stormed over to her computer, “Jerk cut off my phone!” she hissed into her other phone, then brought up her e-mail program and typed a quick message to her entire division, over 60 people on her contact list, and sent it out. All of them bounced back instantly. She clicked on one and read, “Unable to deliver until Scott is safe.”
“Ugh! Jerk!” she screamed at the computer screen.
“Sheelia, don’t bother. I’ll be fine,” Scott tried to calm her.
“What if they kill you? I won’t even know. I’m going to drive down there and track you!”
M.O.D.’s voice broke in, “Your car has been remotely disabled by satellite, Sheelia, but to ease your concerns, we’ll make sure Scott calls and e-mails you often.”
“See what I mean about control, Scott? He has total…”
“Sheelia, I’ll call you later, I promise. Stop worrying.”
She sighed, “Fine. Talk to you later then. Be careful, Scott.”
“I will, and I hope to see you soon. Bye Shee.”
Sheelia stared at her phone for several minutes, replaying the conversation in her head. Was Scott playing his role? Infiltrating M.O.D.? Or was he really acting out his desires? She wasn’t sure anymore. And what did he mean by “hope to see you soon?” Did he expect her to join? Did he expect to win M.O.D.’s trust and bring him down soon? Or did he expect to overthrow the government soon? She wasn’t sure of anything.
Scott leaned back and sighed. “You two aren’t romantically involved, are you?” M.O.D. suddenly asked, startling him.
“No, never have been either. We’ve been partners and friends for a while, that’s all.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I’ll leave you to your breakfast; just ask for me if you have any questions.”
“I have one. Where am I going?”
“Right now, Orlando International where you will board a plane to join us at our base.”
“Which is where?”
“In due time, Scott, in due time. I will personally meet you there. Enjoy your ride.” With that, he signed off.
Scott ate his breakfast, remarking at how perfectly prepared it was, watching the city thin out as he left it, eventually passing nothing but orange groves and farms, flat as far as the eye could see. He arrived at the airport at about 9:00 and was driven directly to a large jet – an old 727 he guessed. The driver, who hadn’t spoken a word during the entire trip, told him this was his plane. He climbed out of the back seat of the limo and crossed the tarmac to the boarding stairs. Once inside, he was handed a drink and shown to a seat by a pleasant young woman. Several others were nervously seated around the sumptuous area. The furnishings made the passenger section look more like an upscale hotel lobby than an airplane.
“We have two more coming before we lift off,” the attendant told him. He just nodded absently, checking out the others around him.
Less than ten minutes later, with all passengers on board, they began to taxi into the lift-off queue. Once in the air, they headed west, over the Gulf of Mexico. Scott paid close attention to where they were at all times, judging properly that they had returned to land over the eastern part of Texas, flying in a northwesterly direction.
During the flight, Scott talked to a few fellow passengers, mostly speculating about where they were headed or what it would be like. Many of the people had family with them, mostly a spouse only, but half a dozen children romped around the plane as well. Scott found himself in the company of four US soldiers, a DEA agent, eight or nine business leaders, and another couple dozen average people, ranging from a starving actor to a truck driver. They all had one thing in common – they wanted their country back and were willing to sacrifice for it.
As they traveled further north, it became apparent to Scott they were on a direct course to the Rocky Mountains – he could see them rising slowly in the distance. Eventually, they turned more northerly and flew along the east side of the mountain range until the pilot announced they were preparing to land.
“Where? There’s no airport up here!” Scott commented, although he wasn’t exactly sure where “here” was; he only knew it was probably in Wyoming. There were certainly cities with airports to the east, but the pilot was flying down into the mountains, eventually leveling off and slowing to minimal speed just hundreds of feet above the dense forest of a basin, and they were heading right toward a mountain that was easily two and a half miles high. As the plane descended into the tree tops, a faintly noticeable line formed and widened ahead of them. Scott realized he was looking at a landing strip that disappeared into the mountain. The runway seemed to be covered with a camouflaged tarp that was being retracted as they dropped to meet it, spreading wide enough to easily accommodate the jet as they touched down.
They coasted to a moderate speed and continued down the secret runway and into a well-concealed tunnel of immense size carved into the mountainside. Lights flicked on and guided them to a hangar half a mile inside.
The passengers gaped in awe at the staggering array of planes, tanks and other equipment carefully parked about in this enormous underground bunker.
“Look, Dad, it’s a stealth bomber!” one wide-eye boy pointed out.
As they cruised by, Scott noticed there were six in all. An entire fleet of fighter jets lined the endless rows, parked diagonally for easy scrambling. Tanks stretched down one tunnel as far as the eye could see, and cargo planes occupied a giant holding bay/tunnel. At the end of the main runway was a docking area where passengers could load and unload from the fleet of private jets at any of eight gates. Two dozen more jets sat idle around the port, and spaces for two dozen more were noticeably empty. Their pilot taxied them up to gate One and waited for the umbilical tube to extend and lock on to their fuselage. A few minutes later they were deplaning.
Scott emerged from the tube into a plain, concrete room. Several “guides” lined the wall, each assigned to one person or family to show them around. Each peeled off the wall upon seeing their charge enter, and escorted them away. As the last one left, Scott remained alone. For an instant he was panicked and confused, but then a man hurried into the room. He was a few inches short of six feet tall, with a slightly overweight medium build. He had a dark, receding patch of hair atop his head, streaked with gray around the ears. He was by no means good-looking or athletic, but he held a confident, genuine air about him. He was dressed in comfortable sweat shorts and a T-shirt bearing the album cover of Megadeth’s album, “Peace sells, but who’s buying?”
The man came straight at Scott and extended a hand. “Sorry I’m late, I get swarmed everywhere I go sometimes. I’m Eric. Glad to meet you, Scott.”
Scott took the proffered hand and exchanged a firm handshake. “M.O.D.?” he asked.
“Well, sort of, yeah. All of us are M.O.D., but please, call me Eric,” he answered, releasing his grip and motioning toward the only other exit besides the one leading back to the plane. “We should get moving. I’m sure you want to see the evil lair,” Eric joked.
Scott looked at his T-shirt. “Megadeth?” he asked facetiously.
Eric smiled warmly, “I was going to wear my Metallica ‘Kill Em All’ shirt, but I figured that may be overly appropriate.”
Scott studied him seriously, briefly, then realized it was a joke and chuckled weakly.
“I’m sorry if I’m not exactly what you pictured, Scott. My FBI file picture was taken 15 years ago,” he apologized.
“Oh, no, it’s not that. I’m stunned by a lot of things, but your appearance the least of them,” he said carefully.
“Hmm… are you referring to the stockpile of equipment or the enormity of our operation or our touristy hospitality?” Eric asked with a smirk.
“All of the above, and more… but yeah, I expected a power suit and tie, too. Do you mind if I ask some questions…”
Eric cut him off, motioning again for the exit, “Please, ask all the questions you want – we are here to give any answers we can.”
Scott began walking, entering a long hallway that he could see opened into a large room where all eight gates converged. “Do you always greet your new recruits?” Scott asked.
“Often, but not always. I’m fairly busy. Usually just the more promising ones, to be honest,” he answered.
“I was expecting more rigid control…”
Eric laughed, “Nobody here is a prisoner, Scott, despite what the President may suggest. And we don’t kill people after blackmailing them to steal something either. Everyone you see here is a volunteer, basically. Although, if we were attacked, you’d see an army engulf this area quickly and secure it.”
Scott glanced around to see people moving about comfortably. They entered the hub, which had several tunnels leading from it, each labeled “Wing A”, “Wing B”, etc. There were five of those.
Eric started to explain, “Each wing is like a city in itself, with our operations center between them. There are 22 wings right now, spread around the central complex. Each wing expands up and down 20 floors in either direction at this point; the central complex is currently 55 levels…’
“Whoa! How big is this place?” Scott asked, blown away.
“Huge. At this point, I can only estimate.”
“How many people are living here?”
Eric started them off toward Wing A, “Currently, about 525,000.”
As they entered Wing A, Scott got his first glimpse of one of their “city” sections. It looked like a suburban mall, with park benches, shrubbery, and street lights. Shops and residences co-mingled along the walkway with stair and elevator access every few hundred feet. People strolled about as if on a Sunday shopping trip.
“Half a million people? Underground? This isn’t just some thrown-together operation, this is a lifelong project! How did you do all of this?” Scott wondered aloud.
“Well,” Eric started to explain, “It is a life-long project. A dream, really. I dreamed it up when I was about ten years old when I opened my first bank account – with someone else’s money, as you probably guessed,” he admitted.
“When did you start building it?”
“In 1987. I was 19, and in college. That’s when I began realizing this country was going down the shitter. I began hiring engineers and workers and found this place. It was well-hidden, rarely traveled…”
“Where are we? The Rockies?”
“Close. We’re actually in the Bighorn Mountain range, at the foot of Cloud Peak. The entrance is in the Bighorn Basin, which lies between the Rocky Mountains and Bighorn. This narrow valley was formed by runoff streams that flow into the Norwood River and seemed like the perfect concealment. A friend of mine decided you could hide a small country in here, so we did.”
“This must have cost a fortune,” Scott said in awe, looking around at the result of the incredible feat.
Eric laughed. “Several fortunes. I’ve been siphoning money from banks and companies around the world for 30 years, Scott, the majority coming from rich oil nations who scarcely missed it.”
“How much?” Scott asked, amazed.
“I’d have to estimate, again.”
“Estimate, please,” Scott encouraged.
“If I had to guess, I’d say around 40 trillion dollars.”
Scott’s jaw dropped. “So, those thefts of yours were just a distraction? A couple million dollars to cover up trillions?” Scott guessed.
Eric grinned. “It’s not cheap carving a country out of a 13,000 foot mountain in a remote area without getting caught, Scott.”
Scott laughed at this defense, “I would guess not.”
“Freedom does have a price.”
“I suppose. How long have you lived here?” he then asked.
“Permanently? Only the last two years or so. Would you like to see my home? It’s just up ahead.”
“Sure, why not?” Scott answered gladly. “You do realize you’ve admitted to several huge felonies, right?” he suddenly added.
“Is this Scott, the relentless FBI agent talking or Scott, the revolutionary?” Eric stopped and asked.
“Scott, the curiously amazed,” he said with a smile.
“I realize fully and accept responsibility for everything I’ve done for this country, be it against its own laws, for its own good. However, I could never accept punishment from an illegitimate country, though, if that’s what you’re wondering. You’re not still planning on arresting me are you?”
“What if I was?” Scott challenged.
Eric stopped again, not with a hard look, but a knowing smile, “You know, Scott, that I can listen in on your conversations through your computer’s microphone, your telephone and your cell phones, even when they’re not in use?”
Scott was startled. “You’re saying you could listen… you heard us talking about…”
Eric nodded. “Your plan. To get recruited?”
“Wow. So you know… Why did you still recruit me then?” Scott was beginning to feel a cold sweat wash over him.
“Because you wanted to join us, Scott, you always have.”
“What makes you think that? Do you profile people or something?” Scott asked, confused.
Eric pointed at a few people, “Does anyone seem to not want to be here, Scott?”
Scott stared at several people, studying them. “No,” he finally answered.
“Have you heard of anyone leaving us?”
Scott shook his head no.
“You assumed we really just killed deserters?”
Scott didn’t answer, but watched a woman pushing a stroller.
“Nobody has ever asked to leave, Scott. Nobody.”
“This is a paradise to them?” he asked.
“Very much so. And yes, we profiled everyone. We have the best psychological consultants. There is no crime here, no financial worries, the best health care and facilities, education beyond your wildest dreams; we have ten-year-olds here doing third year college calculus, willingly. We have state-of-the-art sports and entertainment venues and even our own production company. Everyone works, but nobody complains. They set their own hours, they want for nothing. Do you realize how eagerly people will work for something they believe in if they have the tools necessary to do so? We have achieved so much here. We cured cancer four years ago. Through unlimited medical research, we have developed technologies far beyond the rest of the world. You wouldn’t even begin to understand all the advances we’ve made after you’ve been here a year. We produce all of the food and water we need here, eliminate all waste, we’re completely self-sustaining, if we want to be.”
Scott’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You cured cancer? Why don’t you share it with the world? Or all the other technologies?”
“We will, Scott. We will. Please, let’s go to the house and you can see a few more of our achievements for yourself,” Eric led on again.
“The cure for cancer… did you arrive at it by…”
“Questionable means? Inhuman research?” Eric completed.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll let you read all about it – it’s quite fascinating, really. But your answer is no. It was totally solved by computer model. You see, Scott, here physicists work with philosophers, mathematicians work with doctors. We all pour the sum of our knowledge into every problem and solve it. No ego boundaries collide here, just radically passionate cooperation. Every idea, no matter how outrageous it may sound, is considered,” Eric tried to explain.
Scott was starting to feel faintly dizzy from all the staggering revelations, literally overwhelmed by the enormity of the advancements made in this environment. What other accomplishments were possible with such unlimited resources and uninhibited cooperation. “Have you found life on other planets?” Scott asked facetiously as they stopped outside Eric’s house.
Eric paused as he reached for the doorknob and turned to face Scott. He laughed, “Not definitely, but we have found positive signs. What we have found are hundreds of planets to colonize, and we’re just a few years away from our first extra-solar mission.”
“Why not start with Mars?” Scott mocked.
Eric opened the door and waved him in, “It wasn’t an ideal location for colonization on the surface. Trust me; the places we found are much better than…”
“Daddy!” A child came streaking into the entryway and into Eric’s arms. She was thin and wiry with short, brown hair. He lifted her off the ground in a hug.
“How’s my little angel?” he laughed as he swung her around before setting her down. “Where are the others?” he asked.
“They’re swimming with Karla,” she answered, indicating her bathing suit.
Curious, Scott asked, “You have a pool in your house?”
Eric nodded. “Karla’s their babysitter. Brandy, why don’t you go swim with them while I show our new friend around?”
The girl nodded and smiled. “Does our friend have a name?” she asked.
“Scott,” Scott answered.
She extended a hand. “Hi, Scott, I’m Brandy. It’s very nice to meet you. Welcome to our home,” she said politely.
Scott shook her hand lightly and she grinned happily.
“OK, run along now, Brandy,” Eric told her. She giggled and scampered off.
Eric followed the same direction his daughter had taken with Scott closely behind.
They first entered the living room. “Now that’s a TV,” Scott commented. It was 10 foot wide, taking up an entire wall. He then heard a phone ring and a holographic image of a young Chinese man appeared on the coffee table.
“Oh, let me get that,” Eric said as he took the call.
When the caller finished updating Eric about a new shipment of sidewinder missiles and had hung up, Scott commented, “Holographic phones?”
“I did mention technological advances, didn’t I?”
Scott marveled at dozens of things he saw on the way to the pool, and then was amazed again. The pool was 50 yards long, had two diving boards, two water slides, a tube ride and a river that wound a hundred yards through an incredibly colorful garden. There was a fountain and waterfall along the path where everything from tulips to tomatoes grew. “Wow. It pays to be king,” Scott said.
Eric grinned like a cat who’d caught a mouse, “Oh, no. Every home is like this. I live no better than anyone else.”
Scott’s jaw dropped another inch.
“Do you still need me to stay, Mr. Williams?” Eric’s perky babysitter asked after coming out of a slide with one of the girls – Scott couldn’t tell if it was Brandy or her sister, identical twins… same bathing suit.
“Yes, Karla, if you don’t mind. I’m just showing Scott around. Thanks,” he replied after she readily agreed, then turned to Scott, “This way. I’ll show you my command center.”
Scott slowly followed him through another archway, turning back to watch the kids play, reluctant to leave the amazingly breathtaking scene.
Eric led him past a handball court where his two sons were smashing balls against the walls in total silence. “Yeah, soundproof,” Eric pointed out.
“Nice.”
They passed three more doors down another hallway before entering a large, open room with dozens of monitors and another, even larger, screen behind them all. “Oh my… Big Brother?” Scott said dryly.
“Good analogy, but far more powerful.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“You’re right, you can’t. From here, I can do just about anything – control any satellite around the globe, hack any computer, watch anyone. Wanna check on your partner?” Eric asked, motioning him to have a seat.
Scott loved computers and gadgets – he was in heaven. “Sure! Why not? How do we do that?”
Eric took his own seat, “First, we find her. Gertrude, find Sheelia Tanner, Vero Beach, Florida.”
A holographic image popped up, a globe of the world, zooming in on the area. One spot blinked. Using his hand, Scott manipulated it to zoom in and locate her cell phone, car, and pager. All at the same place – driving out Route 60. Icons flashed near her location. Eric waited for her car to stop, and then touched an icon that looked like a camera and flicked it toward the big screen. It instantly popped up a grainy image, a traffic camera view of her car at the light. He zoomed in.
Despite the poor video quality inherent in traffic cameras, Scott immediately recognized Sheelia through the windshield, impatiently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “Shit!” he blurted.
“Yeah, nice, huh?” Eric grinned. He clicked on her car icon and then on a speaker symbol. The audio from inside her car was easily recognizable as Sheelia singing along with a Jewel song playing on the car stereo.
Eric then clicked on several other cameras surrounding Sheelia’s car.
“ATM cam? Security camera at a convenience store?” Scott asked, as more images appeared on the monitors.
Eric smiled, “Wanna talk to her?”
“Sure! That would be awesome.”
Eric pushed the microphone icon beside the car and spoke into the air, “Hello, this is not On-Star, would you like to talk to Agent Scott Carver?” he said in a professional voice.
Sheelia jumped a good six inches and frantically groped to turn off the radio, “What?” she managed to croak.
Eric nudged Scott to answer. “Uh, hi Sheelia.”
“Scott! Oh my god! Where are you Scott?” she asked as her head swiveled from side to side, desperately trying to locate the source of his voice.
Scott looked at Eric, who seemed unconcerned. “Uh, I’m, uh, sitting in front of the most amazing computer system in the world. This whole place is unbelievable Shee.”
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Uh, Sheelia, the light is green; would you like me to make it red again?” Eric said, chuckling.
She looked up and saw that it had changed. Luckily there were no cars behind her. She hit the gas and pulled into a shopping center parking lot. “How did you do that?”
Eric held up a hand to Scott, indicating for him not to answer, and then typed a message that Scott didn’t see at first. A few seconds later, Sheelia screamed, “How did you do THAT?” She was staring up at a hotel’s digital sign that read, “We see all, Sheelia.” She freaked out and climbed out of the car, doing a complete 360 looking for any other messages.
“Nice outfit,” Eric commented, merely to confuse her more.
“You can see me?” she screeched at the car.
“Yes.”
“How many fingers am I holding up then?” she challenged.
“That’s not a very nice gesture, Miss Tanner,” Eric teased.
“I’ll show you not very nice, asshole!” she growled.
Eric pushed her cell phone icon and caused it to ring, startling her again. She looked at the display, which displayed “M.O.D.” She answered, “What the hell have you done with my partner!?”
“Chill, Shee, we’re just having fun,” Scott tried to sooth her.
“Having fun? My hair is standing up on the back of my neck and I’m about to wet myself! How can you say to chill, Scott!”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? This place is amazing. Really. I’m not kidding. You should see it.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “So they have brainwashed you already?”
“No.”
“Threatened you?”
“No.”
“Right. I can’t see you right now – they could have a gun to your head…” Her phone beeped and she instinctively held it up to look at the display. It held a full room view of Scott sitting at his console in real-time video. “Holy shit, Scott! What is that place? NORAD? NASA’s space command center?”
He laughed teasingly, “Nothing so primitive, Shee. We can literally do anything in the digital world from here, I think…”
Eric nodded calmly. Sheelia could almost see Eric’s face.
“I mean you’d have to ask umm… M.O.D. about it, but I can see security cameras, computers, display boards, phones, cars, just about everything connected around you. I’m pretty sure we can control any and all of them, too,” Scott continued as he glanced at Eric, who merely nodded again.
“Why can’t you tell me where you are, Scott?” she asked angrily. Somehow, she knew the answer. He didn’t say it though. “Is it because they won’t let you?” she insisted.
“Sheelia, there’s a reason why nobody has ever left this place, and it’s not threats or force.”
She slumped back against the hood of her car. “So you really have joined them?” she hatefully spat.
“Yes, Shee, I have. You should too. Seriously.”
“I will never join a terrorist group, Scott, and I never thought I’d see the day you would either!” she barked.
Eric pointed to a button on the display, marked “horn” on her car. Scott smiled and pressed it. Sheelia suddenly flew from the hood of the car, screaming into the phone, “You asshole!”
Laughing, Scott said, “Sorry, Shee, I just couldn’t resist. You should at least come check it out. I’m sure we could blindfold and drug you or something if that would make you more comfortable,” Scott teased.
“The only way I’m coming there is to blow the place up!” she vowed. “I don’t know what these people have been feeding you, but you should know better than to fall for it. I hope for your sake you’re not in there when it comes crumbling down!”
“Jeez, Sheelia, how could you say…”
“You’ve betrayed your country and you’ve betrayed me!”
“Our country betrayed both of us and you’re betraying yourself, Sheelia,” he shot back.
“I can’t believe you, Scott!” she yelled and hung up. She leaned back on the car again and fought to contain herself. Tears were struggling to the surface, and only her fear that they were watching her kept them at bay. Was he serious? Was he just playing their game? Was he trying to earn their trust so he could get in tight enough to cripple them? She clung to that hope, but knew it was false.
Scott started to call her back.
“Give her time, Scott,” Eric wisely told him.
With her head bowed as she stood silently, Scott continued to monitor her through a department store’s external video camera, wondering what she was thinking.
“She’s trying to figure out if you’re playing a con on me or if you’re serious,” Eric said as if reading his mind.
“Either that, or plotting her own way to infiltrate and destroy us,” Scott decided.
“Either way, she’s not ready yet. But she will be,” Eric said calmly.
“I hope so. She can be a real bitch of an enemy.”
Eric laughed, “I can believe that. Would you like to see more or go to your own home?”
“When do I need to start earning my keep?” Scott asked.
“Whenever you’re settled in and want to,” Eric stated frankly.
“In that case, I’m dead tired, but if I don’t have to work tomorrow, I’d love to see more!” Scott decided easily.
Eric showed him around the rest of the house and then they toured many of the facilities, from food processing plants to weapons manufacturing and factories. They visited several electronics plants where Eric showed him how they designed and produced computers that outperformed the rest of the world’s by 100 times in both speed and capacity, visited a medical research facility where he witnessed a synthetic heart being designed, and watched a young girl who was paralyzed from the waist down undergo surgery to restore all function to her limbs. Eric explained that spinal surgery had become routine lately. He also learned of a more controversial practice of altering DNA of unborn babies who would otherwise have had some type of physical or mental disability. Although he didn’t completely agree with the practice, he admired the scientific breakthrough.
When Scott finally decided he was too tired to go on, Eric led him to his own personal paradise and quickly showed him how he could order the furniture, decorations, and any equipment he desired to replace or augment the standard furnishings. He explained the voice-controlled systems and showed him all the basic interactions with the holographic phones and computers. He finished by explaining that all information, as well as help on anything else he wanted to use or know, was easily accessible from the computer by voice or hand command. Satisfied that Scott was properly prepared to go it alone, Eric invited him to call in the morning. Scott agreed, and Eric left.
Despite his weariness, curiosity got the better of him and he eagerly checked out his new home. It was every bit as large as Eric’s, just as Eric had promised. The pool area was unadorned and he didn’t have all the same equipment, but he was certain all he had to do was request it. The home was three stories, with glass floors in the hallways. Several of the rec rooms, such as the basketball/tennis courts and pool areas, were the full three stories high. Each of the five bedrooms overlooked the pool area and had solid glass walls, as did the living room and dining room. The only complaint Scott had was that it was too big for him alone.
His tour stopped at his room, where he kicked off his shoes, told the TV to find him the Sci-fi channel, and collapsed on the bed. His last conscious thought was of Sheelia, wondering what she was doing.
Sheelia wasn’t doing so well. She had spent the rest of the day frantically locating all available underlings assigned to the case. She directed the entire force to follow her only lead, the limo. She searched Scott’s home herself for any signs that would help, finding nothing of any use. She sat heavily on the edge of his unmade bed and put her head in her hands, thoroughly discouraged by her lack of progress, and desperately racking her brain for any inspiration about her next step. She knew she would have to report to her boss soon, and she hadn’t even informed him that Scott was gone.
She did find a tire track from the limo outside his condo. Unfortunately, hundreds of limos around the state used the exact same tires. In the meantime, she had Abe tearing apart the entire cyberworld for any possible trace of M.O.D.
Later that evening, Sheelia was sitting at her desk in her office, reading various reports from her agents about the numerous limos they had tracked down that day, when Abe came in with a report.
“Sheelia, I think we’re on to something here,” he said, dragging the hundred and twenty page report behind him.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Well, while I was running reports on all the missing persons and limos, I noticed many of them coincided, and then I found they all ended up at airports. So I took a look at flights from each of those airports and found that each group of limos corresponded to a plane leaving an airport shortly after the last limos arrived,” he explained in an excited rush.
“OK... and you know where those planes went?” she prompted.
His excitement declined greatly. “Well, yes and no.”
“Yes and no?”
“OK, each plane was destined for airports outside the country, according to their flight plans…”
“And? So what’s the problem?”
“None of them reached their destinations. We weren’t aware of this, of course, because we don’t normally monitor foreign airports like we do our own.”
“Couldn’t we track them?” she then asked.
“Yes and no.”
“I don’t like your yes and no answers!”
“Sorry, Sheelia, but we can’t track them outside of the US.”
“So they definitely are outside of the country?”
Abe hesitated, shifting from foot to foot.
“Let me guess, yes and no?” she asked with a sigh.
“Well… right. These planes are coming back into the country days later, but they haven’t been seen at any of their presumed destinations.”
“So they’re landing on giant airports in the oceans?” Sheelia took a wild stab.
Abe laughed, “If they were, we’d certainly be able to detect something of that size from space. No, I think they are coming back into the country; going out to sea is just a ruse,” he speculated.
“Uh, but you said you could track them from radar history... so it would be impossible for them to come back without showing up on radar, right?”
He sighed. “Normally, I would say that it’s impossible for them to come back without showing up on radar, but there have always been ways of eluding radar detection. Still, I thought a near-sonic jet incapable of doing so, especially in mountainous areas…”
“But?”
“But, then I took a look at radar records of when the military aircraft were stolen. They um, just simply disappeared from radar, even a huge old C-130. Now, I know from research that a C-130 can’t possibly avoid radar at 10,000 feet or more, like many of the planes did, so that leaves me with…”
“M.O.D. hacked the radar installations,” she completed.
“Precisely. As usual, I would say that’s impossible, but everything this guy does is impossible and he makes it look easy. To do this on such a large scale is mind-boggling, one would think he would make a mistake, but his work is flawless.”
Sheelia slumped down in her seat. “I’m in over my head,” she mumbled.
“We all are,” Abe agreed.
