On the ground it was another bright and sunny morning in Nevada.
Evelyn Boatman had fully resumed his role as the Mission Commander at
the ground base and it was now time for breakfast. The young woman
acting as an assistant was reading the schedule for the day as he dug
into a sausage and cheese omelet with hash browns, coffee and toast.
“Sir, the first item for this morning is a visit by a junior member of the British House of Commons for the Conservative Party,”
“Who is it?” He asked.
“Francis Urquhart from Southampton , sir.”
Boatman was sipping coffee when he heard the name. He suddenly spit out the coffee.
The assistant was visibly shocked.
“Sir, is there a problem?” She said.
“No.” Boatman replied.
It’s only a visit by a man who could give Big Bubba some serious lessons on how to permanently dispose of walking problems. He thought.
“Not a problem at all.” He said.
I’m over two centuries old with serious political experience and I should be able to handle a young Francis Urquhart.
British agent John Cross watched from his position of concealment as Evelyn Boatman greeted Francis Urquhart at the front gate.
Who the Hell is that bugger and how did he get in? He thought.
Boatman spoke first.
“Mister Urquhart, it is good for you to visit us.”
Let’s just keep this short and pleasant.
“Thank you, Mister Boatman.”
Urquhart was given the grand tour of the surface facility but it was
very obvious to him that he was the actual center of everyone’s
attention on the dirtside base.
“I didn’t expect this level of attention during the visit.” He said.
“Francis,” Boatman replied, “your counterpart on the original timeline
was the longest serving Prime Minister of the United Kingdom before the
Final War and Planetary Unification.”
Urquhart was very shocked to hear this.
And there is the body count too, but we should not mention that.
“I wasn’t expecting to become the Prime Minister.” Said Urquhart.
Boatman replied.
“Unfortunately the immediate predecessor simply wasn’t up to the job and someone had to step in to clean up the mess.”
And over some cold dead bodies as well. He thought. And tossing poor Mattie Storin off the roof of the House of Commons was clearly an appalling move.
“Oh.” Urquhart replied.
“Francis,” said Boatman, “we’ve taken the liberty of putting together an
information package for the Conservative Party, it’s a basic history of
the original timeline plus some suggestions for things the party should
do and to avoid.”
Urquhart nodded.
“And when you do return to London please say hello to Maggie for me.”
“Mrs. Thatcher?” Said Urquhart. “Why?”
“Her counterpart was second longest serving Prime Minister.” Boatman relied.
“Of course.” Said Urquhart.
Boatman thought as his British guest departed.
Well, that wasn’t too unpleasant.
Later in his official residence on Downing Street the current Prime Minister Harold Wilson was throwing a major fit.
“Who visited the base in Nevada?” He shouted.
“Francis Urquhart a Tory member of the Commons from Southampton, sir.”
“But they still won’t speak to the actual government?” Said Wilson.
“No sir.”
Fuck me. Thought Wilson.
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Step Back - Part 28
October 12, 1969 8 PM Eastern Time
Dan Rather sat back in his New York City residence. He was still quietly fuming. When the proposal was made to send Mike Wallace up to the starship Eagle he objected on the grounds that he was younger and healthier and therefore he should go up.
“No Dan,” said Wallace, “apparently your counterpart on the original timeline had committed a serious breach of ethics and as a result the Uptimers want nothing to do with you here and now.”
From Rather’s perspective Wallace had pitched several softballs to the Uptimers. They were clearly enemies of Progress and fully deserved to have been ripped a new one on the air.
The thought that Rather would have been sent out an airlock did not occur to him.
In Huntsville Werner Von Braun and several members of his NASA team had also watched the broadcast.
He spoke up.
“Boatman never mentioned the fact that the design for the Integral was based on his own Master’s thesis at Cal Tech.”
“Why should he?” Said John Linden. “He actually designed and built all of the other starships. And let’s face it, he was virtually standing on some tall shoulders while doing so.”
“John,” Werner replied, “we’re not in the Reich anymore, there’s no need to kiss anyone’s ass here.”
“But the truth is the truth.” Linden replied.
“Yes, it is.”
Werner Von Braun quietly wondered when his friend Evelyn Boatman would ever get around to writing a doctoral thesis on starship design. He seriously wanted to read it.
In the White House President Nixon had also watched the broadcast with his family.
In his opinion Boatman was clearly a master of political spin. At no point were the natives of Eden mentioned or any word of their fate. And the story of Alice Boatman’s existence aboard the Integral would silence all but the most insane critics of her actions in Dallas. There was no question that the Reverend Grant had asked for it. But sometimes a nose has to be rubbed into a pile of excrement before someone got the point.
The rest of the First Family simply sat back in silence.
Across the nation’s capital Senator Edward Kennedy sat back on the sofa alone with a shot glass and an open bottle of Jack Daniel’s whiskey.
He was fully appalled at the news of a future where people acted without any guidance from their betters, or to act without any other social restraint.
He thought, and then he took another slug from the shot glass.
Something absolutely must be done to stop these monsters.
In the city of Minneapolis former Vice President Humphrey had also watched the broadcast.
How can they live with themselves? He thought. How could they act on their own and abandon the Human Race? How could they show absolutely no remorse for their actions? How could they be so selfish?
In his Minneapolis apartment Thomas Archer, professor of English Literature at the University of Minnesota, switched off his television set.
Those liars! He thought. Those absolute fucking liars!
How can I promote Peace and Social Justice when it was possible to freely contradict me? And how dare that lying fascist bitch say that she was raped as a little girl by a Progressive leader?
It was now clear to him.
The so-called freedom of speech is in fact the freedom to lie, and it has to be stopped once and for all!
In campus dormitories across the nation the empty spaces between the ears of the drones of the student collective were filled with the same set of notions.
Everything about them is wrong! They have technology without restraint. They have power without restraint! They can do anything to anyone they want! They are the enemies of Peace and Progress! They must be stopped! They must be stopped by any means possible! They must be stopped!
Doctor Mark Goldman was doing rounds on his shift in the Emergency Room of Parkland Hospital. A nurse suddenly walked up and spoke to him.
“Doctor, have you seen tonight’s 60 Minutes broadcast?”
“No--why”
“They interviewed Doctor Boatman aboard the Eagle. I understand her now, I understand why she shot Reverend Grant.”
Doctor Goldman nodded.
Katherine Grant had watched the broadcast with several senior staff members of her late husband’s ministry.
She had reached a point of absolute anger beyond anything she had ever experienced. A black rage had taken over her consciousness and it left her fully blocked from any light of truth.
As far as Katherine was concerned there was absolutely no question that the Boatman family and their crew were the creations and the servants of Satan. And there was no absolutely question that they had pulled her daughter into their web of lies and condemned her to eternal damnation.
Judith was gone.
It was not the fact that she was aboard the starship whose reality she fully denied. It was the fact that she had fully renounced faith in God and path of eternal salvation. Judith had fully renounced the Lord Jesus Christ.
And there was no going back.
And it all began with Ayn Rand.
That godless Russian Jewish whore Ayn Rand!
Something had to be done. Something had to be done before more helpless souls would be lost to that whore and her lies.
With that thought her ministry formally began.
In their own home in California Robert and Virginia Heinlein had also watched the broadcast.
What could be said about what he saw tonight?
“Well done, Son.”
Dan Rather sat back in his New York City residence. He was still quietly fuming. When the proposal was made to send Mike Wallace up to the starship Eagle he objected on the grounds that he was younger and healthier and therefore he should go up.
“No Dan,” said Wallace, “apparently your counterpart on the original timeline had committed a serious breach of ethics and as a result the Uptimers want nothing to do with you here and now.”
From Rather’s perspective Wallace had pitched several softballs to the Uptimers. They were clearly enemies of Progress and fully deserved to have been ripped a new one on the air.
The thought that Rather would have been sent out an airlock did not occur to him.
In Huntsville Werner Von Braun and several members of his NASA team had also watched the broadcast.
He spoke up.
“Boatman never mentioned the fact that the design for the Integral was based on his own Master’s thesis at Cal Tech.”
“Why should he?” Said John Linden. “He actually designed and built all of the other starships. And let’s face it, he was virtually standing on some tall shoulders while doing so.”
“John,” Werner replied, “we’re not in the Reich anymore, there’s no need to kiss anyone’s ass here.”
“But the truth is the truth.” Linden replied.
“Yes, it is.”
Werner Von Braun quietly wondered when his friend Evelyn Boatman would ever get around to writing a doctoral thesis on starship design. He seriously wanted to read it.
In the White House President Nixon had also watched the broadcast with his family.
In his opinion Boatman was clearly a master of political spin. At no point were the natives of Eden mentioned or any word of their fate. And the story of Alice Boatman’s existence aboard the Integral would silence all but the most insane critics of her actions in Dallas. There was no question that the Reverend Grant had asked for it. But sometimes a nose has to be rubbed into a pile of excrement before someone got the point.
The rest of the First Family simply sat back in silence.
Across the nation’s capital Senator Edward Kennedy sat back on the sofa alone with a shot glass and an open bottle of Jack Daniel’s whiskey.
He was fully appalled at the news of a future where people acted without any guidance from their betters, or to act without any other social restraint.
He thought, and then he took another slug from the shot glass.
Something absolutely must be done to stop these monsters.
In the city of Minneapolis former Vice President Humphrey had also watched the broadcast.
How can they live with themselves? He thought. How could they act on their own and abandon the Human Race? How could they show absolutely no remorse for their actions? How could they be so selfish?
In his Minneapolis apartment Thomas Archer, professor of English Literature at the University of Minnesota, switched off his television set.
Those liars! He thought. Those absolute fucking liars!
How can I promote Peace and Social Justice when it was possible to freely contradict me? And how dare that lying fascist bitch say that she was raped as a little girl by a Progressive leader?
It was now clear to him.
The so-called freedom of speech is in fact the freedom to lie, and it has to be stopped once and for all!
In campus dormitories across the nation the empty spaces between the ears of the drones of the student collective were filled with the same set of notions.
Everything about them is wrong! They have technology without restraint. They have power without restraint! They can do anything to anyone they want! They are the enemies of Peace and Progress! They must be stopped! They must be stopped by any means possible! They must be stopped!
Doctor Mark Goldman was doing rounds on his shift in the Emergency Room of Parkland Hospital. A nurse suddenly walked up and spoke to him.
“Doctor, have you seen tonight’s 60 Minutes broadcast?”
“No--why”
“They interviewed Doctor Boatman aboard the Eagle. I understand her now, I understand why she shot Reverend Grant.”
Doctor Goldman nodded.
Katherine Grant had watched the broadcast with several senior staff members of her late husband’s ministry.
She had reached a point of absolute anger beyond anything she had ever experienced. A black rage had taken over her consciousness and it left her fully blocked from any light of truth.
As far as Katherine was concerned there was absolutely no question that the Boatman family and their crew were the creations and the servants of Satan. And there was no absolutely question that they had pulled her daughter into their web of lies and condemned her to eternal damnation.
Judith was gone.
It was not the fact that she was aboard the starship whose reality she fully denied. It was the fact that she had fully renounced faith in God and path of eternal salvation. Judith had fully renounced the Lord Jesus Christ.
And there was no going back.
And it all began with Ayn Rand.
That godless Russian Jewish whore Ayn Rand!
Something had to be done. Something had to be done before more helpless souls would be lost to that whore and her lies.
With that thought her ministry formally began.
In their own home in California Robert and Virginia Heinlein had also watched the broadcast.
What could be said about what he saw tonight?
“Well done, Son.”
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Step Back - Part 26
On Sunday afternoon after the worship service at his church John Huhn
sat in prayer within the tiny office within his home. In this he asked
God for guidance about the people who claimed to have come from the
future,
From his own view as a True Christian their claim had to be a lie, and this was the first of their lies. They openly declared that there was no God nor had his son Jesus Christ ever lived. They also claimed that the child who led them was an ancient man reborn.
There was no question these were lies. Clearly these people were the servants of Satan, the first liar himself. And Huhn had also watched the Saturday broadcast of The First Line. The host Bill Burke and his guest Katherine Grant were clearly good and True Christians. Their account of the murder of the Reverend William Grant and kidnapping of his daughter Judith struck him to the depths of his very soul.
How could a True Christian respond to these lies? And what was to be done in the long run?
Huhn continued to sit in prayer.
Obviously the lies and their true source had to be exposed. Although there was a drafting board in his office he decided to use a sketchbook to do the initial draft of the next small comic book in the series for distribution to other True Christians.
In the Oval Office President Richard Nixon was seriously wishing that he could take the day off, or better yet, most of the year off. But he couldn’t. Many of the Sunday editorials in newspapers from the New York Times on down were calling for the destruction of the Uptimer ship, the seizure of their ground base in Nevada, and the prosecution of their leaders for various crimes.
Were they serious? And how were these miracles to be performed? The various editorial writers clearly didn’t say.
Morons, he thought.
That afternoon Doctor Boatman did rounds in the sick bay aboard the Eagle. In particular she wanted to check up on Miss Grant. Shortly into their conversation Judith touched on a topic that was uncomfortable.
“Alice?”
“Yes?”
“I just read about what happened to you on the Integral.”
Alice nodded with a slight frown.
“And now Burke and my mother are claiming that I’m being used the same way aboard the Eagle, that’s wrong!”
“Yes, it is.” Said Alice.
“So what can be done about it?”
To Alice Boatman the answer was obvious.
“The answer to a lie is to shine the light of truth upon it.”
“Yes.” Said Judith.
The process required to reveal the relevant facts suddenly became clear to her.
“Judith,” said Alice, “I know someone who’s a friend of Mike Wallace at CBS News, would you be willing to speak to him about what happened to you?”
“Yes?”
“Okay,” said Alice, “I’ll arrange it right away. Now try to get some rest, okay?”
“Okay.”
With that Alice went straight to the command deck. Captain Sterling was on watch when she arrived.
“Denny,” she said, “I need a favor, I need to make a phone call to New York.”
It was clear to him that Doctor Boatman had stated this as a fact and not as a request.
“Who to?” He asked.
“Ayn Rand.”
It was clear that the doctor was dead serious.
“Yes, go ahead.” He replied.
Alice walked over to the communications station on the command deck, spoke to the petty officer on duty and made the necessary connections. The first was a digital microwave link to the ground station at Arlington. The next was the analog telephone link to New York. As the line rang Alice picked up the connected receiver.
A woman with a clear Russian accent answered.
“Miss Rand? This is Doctor Boatman aboard the Eagle, we met at the meeting in New York.”
“Yes, Evelyn’s daughter. How are you?”
“Good.” Alice replied. “Miss Rand, have you seen this week’s broadcast of The First Line?”
“I normally avoid that trash, but someone gave me a tip on it.” Rand replied. “It was appalling.”
“Well yes, it was,” said Alice, “Miss Grant and I were discussing the contents of that program and we want to respond to it.”
“We?” Said Rand.
“Yes,” said Alice, “I want to specifically respond to the charge that children are subjected to sexual abuse by Uptimers. And I believe I must clearly state how we deal with those who do engage in such conduct.”
“Something happened?” Rand asked.
“Yes,” said Alice, “Did Harry Barnes say anything about what happened to me aboard the starship Integral?’
“Doctor Barnes did say that something horrible had occurred,” Rand replied, “but he didn’t go into detail on it.”
“I don’t blame him,” said Alice, “It was Communist leadership behavior, just like Mao.”
Although Alice couldn’t see it over a phone line Ayn Rand had raised both eyebrows upon hearing this. She had read the Uptimer’s history report on Mao’s personal conduct and was not at all surprised at his depravity.
Ayn Rand asked the next question.
“So how can I help?”
“Miss Rand, I believe that you know Mike Wallace at CBS News, if you could forward him our contact number we should be able to arrange an interview and sort this mess out.”
Rand nodded.
“Yes, I can do that.”
Thank you.”
Several phone calls later the interview was arranged. A lander would be sent to Kennedy Airport to pick up Wallace and his crew and bring them to the Eagle.
From his own view as a True Christian their claim had to be a lie, and this was the first of their lies. They openly declared that there was no God nor had his son Jesus Christ ever lived. They also claimed that the child who led them was an ancient man reborn.
There was no question these were lies. Clearly these people were the servants of Satan, the first liar himself. And Huhn had also watched the Saturday broadcast of The First Line. The host Bill Burke and his guest Katherine Grant were clearly good and True Christians. Their account of the murder of the Reverend William Grant and kidnapping of his daughter Judith struck him to the depths of his very soul.
How could a True Christian respond to these lies? And what was to be done in the long run?
Huhn continued to sit in prayer.
Obviously the lies and their true source had to be exposed. Although there was a drafting board in his office he decided to use a sketchbook to do the initial draft of the next small comic book in the series for distribution to other True Christians.
In the Oval Office President Richard Nixon was seriously wishing that he could take the day off, or better yet, most of the year off. But he couldn’t. Many of the Sunday editorials in newspapers from the New York Times on down were calling for the destruction of the Uptimer ship, the seizure of their ground base in Nevada, and the prosecution of their leaders for various crimes.
Were they serious? And how were these miracles to be performed? The various editorial writers clearly didn’t say.
Morons, he thought.
That afternoon Doctor Boatman did rounds in the sick bay aboard the Eagle. In particular she wanted to check up on Miss Grant. Shortly into their conversation Judith touched on a topic that was uncomfortable.
“Alice?”
“Yes?”
“I just read about what happened to you on the Integral.”
Alice nodded with a slight frown.
“And now Burke and my mother are claiming that I’m being used the same way aboard the Eagle, that’s wrong!”
“Yes, it is.” Said Alice.
“So what can be done about it?”
To Alice Boatman the answer was obvious.
“The answer to a lie is to shine the light of truth upon it.”
“Yes.” Said Judith.
The process required to reveal the relevant facts suddenly became clear to her.
“Judith,” said Alice, “I know someone who’s a friend of Mike Wallace at CBS News, would you be willing to speak to him about what happened to you?”
“Yes?”
“Okay,” said Alice, “I’ll arrange it right away. Now try to get some rest, okay?”
“Okay.”
With that Alice went straight to the command deck. Captain Sterling was on watch when she arrived.
“Denny,” she said, “I need a favor, I need to make a phone call to New York.”
It was clear to him that Doctor Boatman had stated this as a fact and not as a request.
“Who to?” He asked.
“Ayn Rand.”
It was clear that the doctor was dead serious.
“Yes, go ahead.” He replied.
Alice walked over to the communications station on the command deck, spoke to the petty officer on duty and made the necessary connections. The first was a digital microwave link to the ground station at Arlington. The next was the analog telephone link to New York. As the line rang Alice picked up the connected receiver.
A woman with a clear Russian accent answered.
“Miss Rand? This is Doctor Boatman aboard the Eagle, we met at the meeting in New York.”
“Yes, Evelyn’s daughter. How are you?”
“Good.” Alice replied. “Miss Rand, have you seen this week’s broadcast of The First Line?”
“I normally avoid that trash, but someone gave me a tip on it.” Rand replied. “It was appalling.”
“Well yes, it was,” said Alice, “Miss Grant and I were discussing the contents of that program and we want to respond to it.”
“We?” Said Rand.
“Yes,” said Alice, “I want to specifically respond to the charge that children are subjected to sexual abuse by Uptimers. And I believe I must clearly state how we deal with those who do engage in such conduct.”
“Something happened?” Rand asked.
“Yes,” said Alice, “Did Harry Barnes say anything about what happened to me aboard the starship Integral?’
“Doctor Barnes did say that something horrible had occurred,” Rand replied, “but he didn’t go into detail on it.”
“I don’t blame him,” said Alice, “It was Communist leadership behavior, just like Mao.”
Although Alice couldn’t see it over a phone line Ayn Rand had raised both eyebrows upon hearing this. She had read the Uptimer’s history report on Mao’s personal conduct and was not at all surprised at his depravity.
Ayn Rand asked the next question.
“So how can I help?”
“Miss Rand, I believe that you know Mike Wallace at CBS News, if you could forward him our contact number we should be able to arrange an interview and sort this mess out.”
Rand nodded.
“Yes, I can do that.”
Thank you.”
Several phone calls later the interview was arranged. A lander would be sent to Kennedy Airport to pick up Wallace and his crew and bring them to the Eagle.
Sunday, October 05, 2014
Step Back - Part 22
Some readers may find this part disturbing.
Outside the gate of the Uptime base at Area 51 there was a cluster of small commercial buildings which included two gas stations, a diner and a small grocery store. And for the moment there was also a deep red wine colored Lincoln parked outside with the air conditioner running. The two gentlemen sitting within were having a conversation.
“It's impossible, Michael! We can't get anyone inside for any amount of time. They have some kind of magic trick, every time we sent a new guy in within three days they spot him and ask him to leave and never come back. I have no idea how they do it!”
“I haven't any idea myself.” Replied Michael Andolini.
The two gentlemen watched as a commercial tractor pulling a flatbed trailer came up to the gate. The trailer carried a load of steel reinforcement bars for a construction project within the base.
“And will you look at that! They use only non-union workers and truckers. And all of their suppliers have no connection to any family at all! How do they do it?”
“I don't know, John.” Andolini replied. “I don't know.”
Andolini then asked a question.
“So what happened down in Carson City?”
“Damned if I know, Mike. There were two guys who were cleaning out the suckers at poker and one of my soldiers and three associates met with them to straighten them out. The next thing is that my men are dead the two guys are gone. And then the man I have on lookout here sees their car drive straight up to the gate here and they let them in. They're still in there.”
“Something will have to done about that.” Said Michael Andolini.
The gentlemen watched as another truckload of rebar was delivered to the gate.
Yuri and Josef were wearing visitor badges with their FBI escort as they entered the line at the mess hall for lunch. They were astounded when they allowed entry. And very astounded when they were not disarmed.
Yuri had asked the Ranger Lieutenant who initially met them why.
“We're all citizens here.”
“I don't understand.” Said Joe.
“If you think about it, you will.” The Lieutenant replied.
The two former Soviet officers brought up the question with their FBI escort.
“Damned if I know,” he said, “I'm still trying to figure them out myself.”
In the mess line Yuri had another question for their escort.
“So what should we eat for lunch?”
“Try the Swedish Meatballs.”
“Okay.”
In the study of his Washington home Congressman George Bush was reading a file on Uptime history. He had been cleared for full information of the future and issued a laptop computer by the Uptimers. Tonight he was doing research on the topic of race relations in the future and what he found was clearly disturbing.
The Great Society and the subsequent programs of Democratic administrations had fostered a separate and clearly irrational identity for Blacks along with a state of dependency on the Democratic Party. When a civil war broke out after the assassination of President Elect Chapman the vast major of Blacks would support President Null. And some of the Black supporters would do so in an absolutely appalling way.
Bush was reading a report written by Presidential Chief of Staff Allen Keller on the aftermath of the Siege of Chicago. Chicago--along with Gary, Indiana—had formed one of the longest duration sieges during combat operations of The Reformation. And what was found inside the perimeter after the fall nothing less than appalling.
During the siege a group of Black criminals, called the Null Boyz, had been recruited to act as enforcers for the Null faction within the perimeter. Whites, Asians and especially Jews were the primary targets of their actions which were primarily robbery and murder. In no way did they contribute to the defense of the Chicago Pocket and were ultimately captured alive.
Keller had met with the surviving members of the Null Boyz with his personal protective group, Israeli soldiers who had been rescued with their families from the remnant of their homeland after the nuclear bombing by the French government.
Bush read Keller's account of what followed.
This group did not have the appearance of a beaten foe. Nor did they appear to have starved at all during the course of the siege. Although they have been issued uniforms by the faction they were not in anything close to compliance to a uniform regulation. As with other political enforcers in history, such as the SS, they had made up their own ranks and insignia.
With this group gathered together I read a summarized account of their actions—which included rape, robbery and murder--during the siege.
And then I asked why.
The apparent leader replied.
“Why? There is no why, motherfucker!”
I could swear that I could hear the security group move in response.
During the Holocaust a camp guard had performed a trivial act of oppression on an inmate. When the inmate had asked why, the response was: “There is no why.”
At this point I had set a mental trap for the leader that took advantage of his ignorance.
“So you are the Superior Race, and you rightfully can do anything to anyone?”
The gang leader had replied essentially as I expected.
“That's right Motherfucker! We are the Superior Race! What you and your faggot kikes gonna to do about it?”
At this point I pulled out my .45 and placed a round in his head. I then turned to the group leader and ordered him to finish the off the gang.
George Bush sat back and thought about what he had just read.
Outside the gate of the Uptime base at Area 51 there was a cluster of small commercial buildings which included two gas stations, a diner and a small grocery store. And for the moment there was also a deep red wine colored Lincoln parked outside with the air conditioner running. The two gentlemen sitting within were having a conversation.
“It's impossible, Michael! We can't get anyone inside for any amount of time. They have some kind of magic trick, every time we sent a new guy in within three days they spot him and ask him to leave and never come back. I have no idea how they do it!”
“I haven't any idea myself.” Replied Michael Andolini.
The two gentlemen watched as a commercial tractor pulling a flatbed trailer came up to the gate. The trailer carried a load of steel reinforcement bars for a construction project within the base.
“And will you look at that! They use only non-union workers and truckers. And all of their suppliers have no connection to any family at all! How do they do it?”
“I don't know, John.” Andolini replied. “I don't know.”
Andolini then asked a question.
“So what happened down in Carson City?”
“Damned if I know, Mike. There were two guys who were cleaning out the suckers at poker and one of my soldiers and three associates met with them to straighten them out. The next thing is that my men are dead the two guys are gone. And then the man I have on lookout here sees their car drive straight up to the gate here and they let them in. They're still in there.”
“Something will have to done about that.” Said Michael Andolini.
The gentlemen watched as another truckload of rebar was delivered to the gate.
Yuri and Josef were wearing visitor badges with their FBI escort as they entered the line at the mess hall for lunch. They were astounded when they allowed entry. And very astounded when they were not disarmed.
Yuri had asked the Ranger Lieutenant who initially met them why.
“We're all citizens here.”
“I don't understand.” Said Joe.
“If you think about it, you will.” The Lieutenant replied.
The two former Soviet officers brought up the question with their FBI escort.
“Damned if I know,” he said, “I'm still trying to figure them out myself.”
In the mess line Yuri had another question for their escort.
“So what should we eat for lunch?”
“Try the Swedish Meatballs.”
“Okay.”
In the study of his Washington home Congressman George Bush was reading a file on Uptime history. He had been cleared for full information of the future and issued a laptop computer by the Uptimers. Tonight he was doing research on the topic of race relations in the future and what he found was clearly disturbing.
The Great Society and the subsequent programs of Democratic administrations had fostered a separate and clearly irrational identity for Blacks along with a state of dependency on the Democratic Party. When a civil war broke out after the assassination of President Elect Chapman the vast major of Blacks would support President Null. And some of the Black supporters would do so in an absolutely appalling way.
Bush was reading a report written by Presidential Chief of Staff Allen Keller on the aftermath of the Siege of Chicago. Chicago--along with Gary, Indiana—had formed one of the longest duration sieges during combat operations of The Reformation. And what was found inside the perimeter after the fall nothing less than appalling.
During the siege a group of Black criminals, called the Null Boyz, had been recruited to act as enforcers for the Null faction within the perimeter. Whites, Asians and especially Jews were the primary targets of their actions which were primarily robbery and murder. In no way did they contribute to the defense of the Chicago Pocket and were ultimately captured alive.
Keller had met with the surviving members of the Null Boyz with his personal protective group, Israeli soldiers who had been rescued with their families from the remnant of their homeland after the nuclear bombing by the French government.
Bush read Keller's account of what followed.
This group did not have the appearance of a beaten foe. Nor did they appear to have starved at all during the course of the siege. Although they have been issued uniforms by the faction they were not in anything close to compliance to a uniform regulation. As with other political enforcers in history, such as the SS, they had made up their own ranks and insignia.
With this group gathered together I read a summarized account of their actions—which included rape, robbery and murder--during the siege.
And then I asked why.
The apparent leader replied.
“Why? There is no why, motherfucker!”
I could swear that I could hear the security group move in response.
During the Holocaust a camp guard had performed a trivial act of oppression on an inmate. When the inmate had asked why, the response was: “There is no why.”
At this point I had set a mental trap for the leader that took advantage of his ignorance.
“So you are the Superior Race, and you rightfully can do anything to anyone?”
The gang leader had replied essentially as I expected.
“That's right Motherfucker! We are the Superior Race! What you and your faggot kikes gonna to do about it?”
At this point I pulled out my .45 and placed a round in his head. I then turned to the group leader and ordered him to finish the off the gang.
George Bush sat back and thought about what he had just read.
Wednesday, October 01, 2014
Step Back - Part 19
In the surface base at Area 51 Benny Netanyahu had discovered
netsurfing. In this case it was only the surface base network that he
accessed from a workstation but the output was very illuminating.
The uptimers bad brought back a number of text and video files on the topic of the destruction of Jerusalem. This time he would click on the link labeled “Sonya Newman From Jerusalem.”
The widescreen image from a television network called Fox News appeared on the workstation screen. It was the local midnight and Sonya Newman was reporting live from Jerusalem.
Miss Newman’s hair was a little more frizzed than usual and she clearly appeared to be afraid of something on the air. But she was trying to do her job.
Benny would later read that after the Final Election the management at Fox News would give her a choice of assignments outside of the United States. In part this was to allow her to get away from escalating level of violence being carried out by followers of former President Null against those who were perceived to be opponents of his continued and now illegal occupancy of the White House.
Miss Newman had no idea what was going on apart from the local civil defense sirens sounding off. She had said that she and her camera crew were about to go down to a shelter when someone off camera shouted something. The camera shifted off of Sunny to something in the sky.
The view from the Fox News camera in Jerusalem showed three of the reentry vehicles dropping down on the city.
Miss Newman tried to describe what she saw. It was almost a play by play account as the locally based anti-missile battery tried to intercept the incoming warheads.
The first two warheads were killed on live television. The interceptor missiles failed to hit the third warhead.
Sonya Newman of Fox News made one final comment.
“One of the them got through.”
The was a very brief flash of light from the last warhead before the loss of the video signal from Jerusalem.
Benjamin Netanyahu sat back and thought about what he had seen.
In the Forbidden City of Peking General Tsien, the current head of the State Security Service, was admitted into the office of the Great Helmsman.
“Comrade Chairman,” he said, “I’m here to report on the operation to terminate the anti-communist author Ayn Rand.”
“And how is it going?” Asked Chairman Mao.
“It isn’t, Comrade Chairman.”
Mao blinked. To report such a failure was a very rare event, which was quickly followed by the order to execute the man who failed.
“Why not?” Said Mao.
“The man I assigned the task to has committed suicide with his service pistol, and he did leave a note.”
Mao shook his head and then spoke again.
“So?”
“Comrade Chairman, he said that the task was impossible.”
Mao raised his voice in reply.
“No task is impossible! And there is no excuse for failure! You will assign another man to the task! And the task will be completed!”
“Of course, Comrade Chairman.” Said General Tsien.
He had read the suicide note and came to agree with every point. If they could not find a way to perform the task in a deniable fashion there would be a blowback. Although the American government would be outraged they would likely refrain from performing a retaliatory action. But the Star People would retaliate for the termination of Rand. And they would very likely do so by removing the city of Peking from the face of the Earth with a thermonuclear weapon.
Upon return to his own office General Tsien made a decision. He would assign the most incompetent and politically foolish man in the relevant bureau to the task. Yes, the man assigned to the task would fail, and as a result General Tsien would keep his head.
In Dallas a late meeting was held at the headquarters of the William Grant Ministries. In the absence of her husband Katherine Grant, the widow of the Reverend William Grant chaired the meeting. She listened as a man from Nevada spoke to the group.
“We’ve found as a result of discussions with some of our parishioners that the Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Alice Boatman, is a lesbian.”
Mrs. Grant had heard the term before. But someone at the table hadn’t.
“A what?”
“A female homosexual.” The man from Nevada replied.
“A Sodomite,” said Katherine Grant, “a sinner beyond ordinary sin. And now those sinners have my daughter to do whatever they wish with her.”
She looked at each man and woman at the table in turn.
“And they must pay the ultimate penalty for their sins!”
At the end it was decided that Mrs. Grant would personally speak to President Nixon on the matter. And he would be made to understand the full consequences of his continued cooperation with the Uptimers.
In Pahrump, Nevada, outside of the Uptime base at Area 51, British Agent John Cross had finished his long cross country drive and checked into a motel for the night. He was clearly tried from the drive and had no time for extracurricular nonsense.
In Carson City, Nevada the two Soviet intelligence officers had encountered and clearly recognized the other as Soviet Officers. As a result they had a short discussion. Each had come to Carson City because it was the center of the state government and the equivalent Federal operations. And in discovering that each was also an effective card player they hatched a scheme to raise some extracurricular funds. They would use part of their operational funds as a stake in the locally held poker tournaments. Working as team they would move from venue to venue, never winning more than three hands at each location.
The GRU officer watched as his KGB counterpart cleaned out another table full of suckers. It was clear that as in warfare losses at poker, especially at Texas Hold ‘Em were inevitable. The trick as in warfare was to limit the effect of the losses.
The French intelligence officer was cooling his heels in the Las Vegas drunk tank. Drinking, even wine, did not mix with driving in this state.
Barbarians, he thought.
The uptimers bad brought back a number of text and video files on the topic of the destruction of Jerusalem. This time he would click on the link labeled “Sonya Newman From Jerusalem.”
The widescreen image from a television network called Fox News appeared on the workstation screen. It was the local midnight and Sonya Newman was reporting live from Jerusalem.
Miss Newman’s hair was a little more frizzed than usual and she clearly appeared to be afraid of something on the air. But she was trying to do her job.
Benny would later read that after the Final Election the management at Fox News would give her a choice of assignments outside of the United States. In part this was to allow her to get away from escalating level of violence being carried out by followers of former President Null against those who were perceived to be opponents of his continued and now illegal occupancy of the White House.
Miss Newman had no idea what was going on apart from the local civil defense sirens sounding off. She had said that she and her camera crew were about to go down to a shelter when someone off camera shouted something. The camera shifted off of Sunny to something in the sky.
The view from the Fox News camera in Jerusalem showed three of the reentry vehicles dropping down on the city.
Miss Newman tried to describe what she saw. It was almost a play by play account as the locally based anti-missile battery tried to intercept the incoming warheads.
The first two warheads were killed on live television. The interceptor missiles failed to hit the third warhead.
Sonya Newman of Fox News made one final comment.
“One of the them got through.”
The was a very brief flash of light from the last warhead before the loss of the video signal from Jerusalem.
Benjamin Netanyahu sat back and thought about what he had seen.
In the Forbidden City of Peking General Tsien, the current head of the State Security Service, was admitted into the office of the Great Helmsman.
“Comrade Chairman,” he said, “I’m here to report on the operation to terminate the anti-communist author Ayn Rand.”
“And how is it going?” Asked Chairman Mao.
“It isn’t, Comrade Chairman.”
Mao blinked. To report such a failure was a very rare event, which was quickly followed by the order to execute the man who failed.
“Why not?” Said Mao.
“The man I assigned the task to has committed suicide with his service pistol, and he did leave a note.”
Mao shook his head and then spoke again.
“So?”
“Comrade Chairman, he said that the task was impossible.”
Mao raised his voice in reply.
“No task is impossible! And there is no excuse for failure! You will assign another man to the task! And the task will be completed!”
“Of course, Comrade Chairman.” Said General Tsien.
He had read the suicide note and came to agree with every point. If they could not find a way to perform the task in a deniable fashion there would be a blowback. Although the American government would be outraged they would likely refrain from performing a retaliatory action. But the Star People would retaliate for the termination of Rand. And they would very likely do so by removing the city of Peking from the face of the Earth with a thermonuclear weapon.
Upon return to his own office General Tsien made a decision. He would assign the most incompetent and politically foolish man in the relevant bureau to the task. Yes, the man assigned to the task would fail, and as a result General Tsien would keep his head.
In Dallas a late meeting was held at the headquarters of the William Grant Ministries. In the absence of her husband Katherine Grant, the widow of the Reverend William Grant chaired the meeting. She listened as a man from Nevada spoke to the group.
“We’ve found as a result of discussions with some of our parishioners that the Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Alice Boatman, is a lesbian.”
Mrs. Grant had heard the term before. But someone at the table hadn’t.
“A what?”
“A female homosexual.” The man from Nevada replied.
“A Sodomite,” said Katherine Grant, “a sinner beyond ordinary sin. And now those sinners have my daughter to do whatever they wish with her.”
She looked at each man and woman at the table in turn.
“And they must pay the ultimate penalty for their sins!”
At the end it was decided that Mrs. Grant would personally speak to President Nixon on the matter. And he would be made to understand the full consequences of his continued cooperation with the Uptimers.
In Pahrump, Nevada, outside of the Uptime base at Area 51, British Agent John Cross had finished his long cross country drive and checked into a motel for the night. He was clearly tried from the drive and had no time for extracurricular nonsense.
In Carson City, Nevada the two Soviet intelligence officers had encountered and clearly recognized the other as Soviet Officers. As a result they had a short discussion. Each had come to Carson City because it was the center of the state government and the equivalent Federal operations. And in discovering that each was also an effective card player they hatched a scheme to raise some extracurricular funds. They would use part of their operational funds as a stake in the locally held poker tournaments. Working as team they would move from venue to venue, never winning more than three hands at each location.
The GRU officer watched as his KGB counterpart cleaned out another table full of suckers. It was clear that as in warfare losses at poker, especially at Texas Hold ‘Em were inevitable. The trick as in warfare was to limit the effect of the losses.
The French intelligence officer was cooling his heels in the Las Vegas drunk tank. Drinking, even wine, did not mix with driving in this state.
Barbarians, he thought.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Step Back -- Part 17
“Final burn completed.”
Lieutenant Cook, the commander of this mission, looked about the command deck of the subordinate craft. Even with the return to free fall everyone and everything was working smoothly. This was especially true with the Downtime American volunteers who made up part of the crew for the mission.
“Very good.” He said.
The Falcon, along with her sisters Harrier, Kite, Owl and Osprey, were the largest subordinate craft carried aboard the Eagle on the mission to Sol. As with th Eagle they had been fitted with the FTL Drive. And as with the Eagle the FTL Drive had been disconnected from the control and energy systems of the vessels. For this mission the drive had actually been dismantled and placed in storage to improve the mass fraction of the craft.
The image on the primary screen of the command deck was split with a virtually straight line between a field pf stars and a the night side upper atmosphere of the planet Jupiter. The flashes of lightning that could be seen from this orbit would put the electrical output of a Terrestrial hurricane to shame.
But their mission wasn’t to play tourist, the Falcon was here for fuel.
Although the Eagle was designed and constructed to use a quantum singularity as the primary power source, the auxiliary generators, as well as the primary powerplants of the auxiliary craft and surface installations were fusion reactors.
Fusion reactors used Deuterium and Helium-3 for fuel. While Deuterium could be found on Earth the sources for any reasonable quantity of Helium-3 were the large gas giants. In the history of the primary timeline Jupiter and Saturn were robotically mined for Helium-3. For the mission to Sol the necessary mining machines were duplicated and brought along to support the mission.
Lieutenant Cook switched on the intercom and spoke to the crew of the Falcon.
“This is the commander, we have arrived, let’s get to work.”
Back on Earth in her Arlington office Lieutenant Commander Keller was having another meeting with Colonel Short.
“Walt,” she said,” you asked why we have a fundamental contempt for the constabulary. There is an answer but you may not like it.”
Walter Short thought for a moment before responding.
“So?” He said. “If we are not willing to face an unpleasant truth we may as well be dead.”
Keller smiled. What Short just said to her was a verbatim statement straight from the historic record.
She replied.
“There is a long history of abuses that led up to The Reformation--I’ve included several works on the subject on this memory chip that you can read on your laptop...”
She handed him a memory chip encased in bright blue plastic.
“...but the major incident that touched off The Reformation was the Oakland Massacre. After the president elect was assassinated at the orders of President Null, he issued an additional command for the civilian police forces to use deadly force on any demonstrations in opposition to his continued rule.”
“That’s a war crime!” Said Colonel Short.
“Yes.” Keller replied. “It was.”
Keller entered a command into the her desktop workstation. The large video screen on a wall lit up with an image of the Oakland Police in action. The Oakland cops wore dark blue uniforms with body armor and carried military grade carbines.
Colonel Short spoke up.
“Those aren’t cops!” He said.
“Not by the current standards.” Commander Keller replied. “Up to the time of the Last Election both parties had pursued a policy of police militarization.”
“Why?”
“It was deemed expedient in the pursuit of other policies.”
Short shook his head in apparent disgust.
On the screen civilians were peacefully gathered. Some of them carried signs that simply said: “Resign!” Other demonstrators carried signs with something that Colonel Short recognized as the European road sign symbol forbidding an action over the number zero.
“No Zero?” He said.
“Yes.” Keller replied. “At that time President Null was also called The Big Zero.”
“Ouch.” Short replied.
The video then showed a man with a flak vest civilian attire leaning over to speak to the lead policeman. The Police Captain then spoke through a megaphone to command the demonstrators to disperse.
One of the demonstrators shouted back.
“We The People are the sovereign authority, we give the orders to you!”
The civilian in the flak vest appeared to be clearly outraged and apparently issued another order to the Police Captain.
The Police Captain then shouted orders to his men.
“Take aim and fire!”
Apparently the camera operator was hit in the initial volley. Then another person picked up the camera and ran away with it.
“And this was broadcast?” Said Colonel Short.
“Yes, on the Internet.” Commander Keller replied.
Short had read about the construction of the Internet. It was originally intended to be a system for military communication during a nuclear war based on the fiber optic lines and multiple dispersed nodes. The transfer of the Internet to civilian use and the further commercial expansion of it effectively ended the days of a centralized and controllable mass media.
Colonel Short whistled.
“And this led to the radical reforms of the police?”
“Yes.” Keller replied. “After The Reformation the civilian constabulary was demilitarized and largely disarmed. The doctrines originally put forth by Sir Robert Peel were adopted and policemen were recruited exclusively from veterans of the Federal Service.”
“And it worked? Even with serious criminals?”
“Well what you call serious criminals were put to death. That’s another reform, sir.”
And all Colonel Short could do at that point was nod.
Lieutenant Cook, the commander of this mission, looked about the command deck of the subordinate craft. Even with the return to free fall everyone and everything was working smoothly. This was especially true with the Downtime American volunteers who made up part of the crew for the mission.
“Very good.” He said.
The Falcon, along with her sisters Harrier, Kite, Owl and Osprey, were the largest subordinate craft carried aboard the Eagle on the mission to Sol. As with th Eagle they had been fitted with the FTL Drive. And as with the Eagle the FTL Drive had been disconnected from the control and energy systems of the vessels. For this mission the drive had actually been dismantled and placed in storage to improve the mass fraction of the craft.
The image on the primary screen of the command deck was split with a virtually straight line between a field pf stars and a the night side upper atmosphere of the planet Jupiter. The flashes of lightning that could be seen from this orbit would put the electrical output of a Terrestrial hurricane to shame.
But their mission wasn’t to play tourist, the Falcon was here for fuel.
Although the Eagle was designed and constructed to use a quantum singularity as the primary power source, the auxiliary generators, as well as the primary powerplants of the auxiliary craft and surface installations were fusion reactors.
Fusion reactors used Deuterium and Helium-3 for fuel. While Deuterium could be found on Earth the sources for any reasonable quantity of Helium-3 were the large gas giants. In the history of the primary timeline Jupiter and Saturn were robotically mined for Helium-3. For the mission to Sol the necessary mining machines were duplicated and brought along to support the mission.
Lieutenant Cook switched on the intercom and spoke to the crew of the Falcon.
“This is the commander, we have arrived, let’s get to work.”
Back on Earth in her Arlington office Lieutenant Commander Keller was having another meeting with Colonel Short.
“Walt,” she said,” you asked why we have a fundamental contempt for the constabulary. There is an answer but you may not like it.”
Walter Short thought for a moment before responding.
“So?” He said. “If we are not willing to face an unpleasant truth we may as well be dead.”
Keller smiled. What Short just said to her was a verbatim statement straight from the historic record.
She replied.
“There is a long history of abuses that led up to The Reformation--I’ve included several works on the subject on this memory chip that you can read on your laptop...”
She handed him a memory chip encased in bright blue plastic.
“...but the major incident that touched off The Reformation was the Oakland Massacre. After the president elect was assassinated at the orders of President Null, he issued an additional command for the civilian police forces to use deadly force on any demonstrations in opposition to his continued rule.”
“That’s a war crime!” Said Colonel Short.
“Yes.” Keller replied. “It was.”
Keller entered a command into the her desktop workstation. The large video screen on a wall lit up with an image of the Oakland Police in action. The Oakland cops wore dark blue uniforms with body armor and carried military grade carbines.
Colonel Short spoke up.
“Those aren’t cops!” He said.
“Not by the current standards.” Commander Keller replied. “Up to the time of the Last Election both parties had pursued a policy of police militarization.”
“Why?”
“It was deemed expedient in the pursuit of other policies.”
Short shook his head in apparent disgust.
On the screen civilians were peacefully gathered. Some of them carried signs that simply said: “Resign!” Other demonstrators carried signs with something that Colonel Short recognized as the European road sign symbol forbidding an action over the number zero.
“No Zero?” He said.
“Yes.” Keller replied. “At that time President Null was also called The Big Zero.”
“Ouch.” Short replied.
The video then showed a man with a flak vest civilian attire leaning over to speak to the lead policeman. The Police Captain then spoke through a megaphone to command the demonstrators to disperse.
One of the demonstrators shouted back.
“We The People are the sovereign authority, we give the orders to you!”
The civilian in the flak vest appeared to be clearly outraged and apparently issued another order to the Police Captain.
The Police Captain then shouted orders to his men.
“Take aim and fire!”
Apparently the camera operator was hit in the initial volley. Then another person picked up the camera and ran away with it.
“And this was broadcast?” Said Colonel Short.
“Yes, on the Internet.” Commander Keller replied.
Short had read about the construction of the Internet. It was originally intended to be a system for military communication during a nuclear war based on the fiber optic lines and multiple dispersed nodes. The transfer of the Internet to civilian use and the further commercial expansion of it effectively ended the days of a centralized and controllable mass media.
Colonel Short whistled.
“And this led to the radical reforms of the police?”
“Yes.” Keller replied. “After The Reformation the civilian constabulary was demilitarized and largely disarmed. The doctrines originally put forth by Sir Robert Peel were adopted and policemen were recruited exclusively from veterans of the Federal Service.”
“And it worked? Even with serious criminals?”
“Well what you call serious criminals were put to death. That’s another reform, sir.”
And all Colonel Short could do at that point was nod.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Step Back, Part 16
In the Nevada desert Harry Barnes was watching the sunset with a new companion.
Barnes had just earned his Doctorate in Philosophy when Ayn Rand asked him to go to Nevada to represent the Objectivists at the Uptimer’s base. As the job prospects for philosophers who actually treated reality as being real were appallingly slim at best he took the job.
And it was here in the cluster of the temporary structures that served as offices and housing that he met someone.
Jane March was the Deputy Engineer for the FTL Drive System installed aboard the Eagle. She had flown with the Eagle on her two successful missions to Proxima Centauri and Barnard’s Star. There was no expectation of a problem on the mission to Sol.
When it was discovered that the FTL drive had deposited the Eagle in what was clearly the past she personally performed the diagnostic examination of the system. When no fault could be found in the FTL Drive she called for the complete disconnection of the system from the energy and control systems of the ship.
With the FTL Drive effectively converted into an inert mass within the hull of the Eagle the Deputy Engineer clearly needed a new assignment. As someone had to take charge of the construction of the surface base in the Nevada desert Lieutenant Jane March was the clear and natural choice.
On the ground there was a celebration of the success of the last operation. The Rangers and the few fortunate young women and other civilians who were allowed into the base were holding a dance. Harry would be attending the event as Jane’s guest.
Both were formally dressed, Harry in a white suit with a bow tie and Jane in her Dress Blues, as they stepped into the newly constructed hangar that served as the venue for the event.
There wasn’t a band playing for the event. But there was an improvised sound system that played music that would not be recorded yet on this timeline. The current musical number was appropriate for a slow dance. Jane recognized the artist as Sade and the lyrics were in the form of a question.
Is it a crime, Is it a crime?
That I still love you?
And I want you to love me too?
Lieutenant March looked around and found the commander of the Rangers.
“There he is.” She said to Harry. “Let’s go over there.”
“Okay.”
To any downtime observer Nathan Benson had the appearance of the captain of a high school football team in his dress uniform. But once one was in range of his voice it was clear that this was an old man in a young body. The cluster of people that surrounded him included a Colonel from the Marine Corps. As the couple came within earshot they could hear the marine ask a question.
“Normally an infantry unit embarked on a ship are designated Marines, why did your people go with the term Ranger?”
“Well sir, The Rangers are the regular component of the armed forces in our system. And our first deployment was to suppress the natives on the planet Eden.”
The Colonel’s wife spoke up.
“Eden?”
“Yes ma'am,” said Benson, “the planet orbiting Alpha Centauri A. The first ship to arrive was the Mayflower. They set down their colony on the secondary continent because the main land mass was overrun by some very large and nasty carnivores.”
“What were they like?” She asked.
“Well the main one was called Fuherersaurus by us, it could eat a Tyrannosaurus Rex for lunch. Unfortunately the second continent had stone age natives, Reptantis Sapiens Eden, who saw omnivores like us as something to eat.”
“How could they do that?” The Colonel asked.
“Ideology sir,” Benson replied, “we discovered it during a download.”
“A download?” The Marine asked.
“Yes sir, it’s a procedure where full cybernetic contact is made with the subject’s neural network, and the contents of the brain are recorded and processed for information.”
“I don’t understand.” Said the Marine Colonel.
“I don’t blame you.” Lieutenant March cut into the discussion. “The process of downloading originally developed as part of our recorporation technology and was adapted as an alternative to vocal interrogation.”
“Anyway,” Benson spoke up, “the last starship from Earth was about to arrive at Eden and the entire Ranger Battalion, minus the cadre, was deployed to the planet for this. As it turned out the natives were about to attack our base on Eden in roughly division strength. And it was decided to grab a leader for download.”
Lieutenant March already knew the story but remained silent.
Benson continued to speak.
“Anyway on Eden I came to the attention of the Old Man, Number Four at the time, and he reassigned me as his aide.”
The Marine made a clearly sour face on hearing this.
“I don’t blame you sir,” said Benson, “this was my first combat deployment and I suddenly got assigned to a rear echelon spot. But the thing is that the Old Man likes to lead from the front, so I got to go with him on a snatch and grab mission for one of the native leaders. Once we had his back at the base we had a conversation before the download process was begun.”
“How could you speak to them?” Another woman asked.
“Well ma’am, we used a translation program on the base’s mainframe computer.”
“I don’t understand.” She said.
Lieutenant March cut in to answer.
“Our computers are very powerful. For example the portable laptop computer that we are using to rum the music sound system here has many times the memory and computing power of every locally made system on the planet Earth.”
Benson spoke up again.
“So anyway, we have the native leader strapped to the table and the techs aren’t quite ready yet so we asked some questions.”
"Such as?” Said Harry.
“Well, such questions as, why if they have molars do they not eat plants.”
“So why not?” Harry asked.
“It was a religious doctrine. The next thing the Old Man does is to take a pliers from his toolkit and pull out one of the molars and shows it to the native, in his face.”
“I take it that the native didn’t take it well?” Said the Marine.
“No sir, he didn’t.”
“So what happened to the natives?” Harry asked.
Benson replied.
“We torched the main group from orbit, just like we just did with North Vietnam.”
“But there’s another group.” Said Jane March.
“Oh yes,” Benson replied, “another group broke off from the main body, built some dugout canoes and crossed the strait between the two continents and set up their own villages with farmland.”
“They’ve gone back to being omnivores?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” said Benson, “and as they’re evolving we decided to leave them alone.”
It was on Thursday morning in the basement of the French Embassy in Tel Aviv Lieutenant Joseph Beaujeu of the French Navy--presently covered as an attache and working as an intelligence officer--read the take from the latest dead drop from a source he had picked up.
The message was trouble--very deep trouble.
One of his sources within the Government of Israel was present for a secret briefing. The content of the briefing was about the future of the State of Israel. That in December of 2012 the French Navy would launch a nuclear strike on Israel. As a result one faction of Americans, who were in the midst of an internal civil war, would move to protect and evacuate the survivors of the nuclear strike on Israel. This was shocking but what fully floored Lieutenant Beaujeu was that this faction of Americans also controlled the nuclear weapons and would carry out the retaliation for the destruction of Israel. France would be pounded with chemical and nuclear weapons into effectively nothing and as a result would have no further independent existence as a nation.
The Lieutenant proceeded to write his report for transfer in the diplomatic pouch to Paris.
There was nothing else he could do.
Barnes had just earned his Doctorate in Philosophy when Ayn Rand asked him to go to Nevada to represent the Objectivists at the Uptimer’s base. As the job prospects for philosophers who actually treated reality as being real were appallingly slim at best he took the job.
And it was here in the cluster of the temporary structures that served as offices and housing that he met someone.
Jane March was the Deputy Engineer for the FTL Drive System installed aboard the Eagle. She had flown with the Eagle on her two successful missions to Proxima Centauri and Barnard’s Star. There was no expectation of a problem on the mission to Sol.
When it was discovered that the FTL drive had deposited the Eagle in what was clearly the past she personally performed the diagnostic examination of the system. When no fault could be found in the FTL Drive she called for the complete disconnection of the system from the energy and control systems of the ship.
With the FTL Drive effectively converted into an inert mass within the hull of the Eagle the Deputy Engineer clearly needed a new assignment. As someone had to take charge of the construction of the surface base in the Nevada desert Lieutenant Jane March was the clear and natural choice.
On the ground there was a celebration of the success of the last operation. The Rangers and the few fortunate young women and other civilians who were allowed into the base were holding a dance. Harry would be attending the event as Jane’s guest.
Both were formally dressed, Harry in a white suit with a bow tie and Jane in her Dress Blues, as they stepped into the newly constructed hangar that served as the venue for the event.
There wasn’t a band playing for the event. But there was an improvised sound system that played music that would not be recorded yet on this timeline. The current musical number was appropriate for a slow dance. Jane recognized the artist as Sade and the lyrics were in the form of a question.
Is it a crime, Is it a crime?
That I still love you?
And I want you to love me too?
Lieutenant March looked around and found the commander of the Rangers.
“There he is.” She said to Harry. “Let’s go over there.”
“Okay.”
To any downtime observer Nathan Benson had the appearance of the captain of a high school football team in his dress uniform. But once one was in range of his voice it was clear that this was an old man in a young body. The cluster of people that surrounded him included a Colonel from the Marine Corps. As the couple came within earshot they could hear the marine ask a question.
“Normally an infantry unit embarked on a ship are designated Marines, why did your people go with the term Ranger?”
“Well sir, The Rangers are the regular component of the armed forces in our system. And our first deployment was to suppress the natives on the planet Eden.”
The Colonel’s wife spoke up.
“Eden?”
“Yes ma'am,” said Benson, “the planet orbiting Alpha Centauri A. The first ship to arrive was the Mayflower. They set down their colony on the secondary continent because the main land mass was overrun by some very large and nasty carnivores.”
“What were they like?” She asked.
“Well the main one was called Fuherersaurus by us, it could eat a Tyrannosaurus Rex for lunch. Unfortunately the second continent had stone age natives, Reptantis Sapiens Eden, who saw omnivores like us as something to eat.”
“How could they do that?” The Colonel asked.
“Ideology sir,” Benson replied, “we discovered it during a download.”
“A download?” The Marine asked.
“Yes sir, it’s a procedure where full cybernetic contact is made with the subject’s neural network, and the contents of the brain are recorded and processed for information.”
“I don’t understand.” Said the Marine Colonel.
“I don’t blame you.” Lieutenant March cut into the discussion. “The process of downloading originally developed as part of our recorporation technology and was adapted as an alternative to vocal interrogation.”
“Anyway,” Benson spoke up, “the last starship from Earth was about to arrive at Eden and the entire Ranger Battalion, minus the cadre, was deployed to the planet for this. As it turned out the natives were about to attack our base on Eden in roughly division strength. And it was decided to grab a leader for download.”
Lieutenant March already knew the story but remained silent.
Benson continued to speak.
“Anyway on Eden I came to the attention of the Old Man, Number Four at the time, and he reassigned me as his aide.”
The Marine made a clearly sour face on hearing this.
“I don’t blame you sir,” said Benson, “this was my first combat deployment and I suddenly got assigned to a rear echelon spot. But the thing is that the Old Man likes to lead from the front, so I got to go with him on a snatch and grab mission for one of the native leaders. Once we had his back at the base we had a conversation before the download process was begun.”
“How could you speak to them?” Another woman asked.
“Well ma’am, we used a translation program on the base’s mainframe computer.”
“I don’t understand.” She said.
Lieutenant March cut in to answer.
“Our computers are very powerful. For example the portable laptop computer that we are using to rum the music sound system here has many times the memory and computing power of every locally made system on the planet Earth.”
Benson spoke up again.
“So anyway, we have the native leader strapped to the table and the techs aren’t quite ready yet so we asked some questions.”
"Such as?” Said Harry.
“Well, such questions as, why if they have molars do they not eat plants.”
“So why not?” Harry asked.
“It was a religious doctrine. The next thing the Old Man does is to take a pliers from his toolkit and pull out one of the molars and shows it to the native, in his face.”
“I take it that the native didn’t take it well?” Said the Marine.
“No sir, he didn’t.”
“So what happened to the natives?” Harry asked.
Benson replied.
“We torched the main group from orbit, just like we just did with North Vietnam.”
“But there’s another group.” Said Jane March.
“Oh yes,” Benson replied, “another group broke off from the main body, built some dugout canoes and crossed the strait between the two continents and set up their own villages with farmland.”
“They’ve gone back to being omnivores?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” said Benson, “and as they’re evolving we decided to leave them alone.”
It was on Thursday morning in the basement of the French Embassy in Tel Aviv Lieutenant Joseph Beaujeu of the French Navy--presently covered as an attache and working as an intelligence officer--read the take from the latest dead drop from a source he had picked up.
The message was trouble--very deep trouble.
One of his sources within the Government of Israel was present for a secret briefing. The content of the briefing was about the future of the State of Israel. That in December of 2012 the French Navy would launch a nuclear strike on Israel. As a result one faction of Americans, who were in the midst of an internal civil war, would move to protect and evacuate the survivors of the nuclear strike on Israel. This was shocking but what fully floored Lieutenant Beaujeu was that this faction of Americans also controlled the nuclear weapons and would carry out the retaliation for the destruction of Israel. France would be pounded with chemical and nuclear weapons into effectively nothing and as a result would have no further independent existence as a nation.
The Lieutenant proceeded to write his report for transfer in the diplomatic pouch to Paris.
There was nothing else he could do.
Monday, September 08, 2014
Step Back, part 9
In a walnut paneled boardroom on the penthouse level of a palatial hotel off of Central Park in New York a meeting was being held. The white haired man at the head of the table spoke to the obviously subordinate middle aged man at the far end.
“So Mr. Black, what happened in Minneapolis?”
“Sir, the two local police officers had intercepted the subject before our people could obtain him.”
“And how was it that our people in Minneapolis could not obtain the subject in accordance to the plan?”
“Sir, his trip to the White Castle in North East Minneapolis was completely unexpected. It was assumed by our people that he would take his lunch beak at an...um...better restaurant.”
The man at the head of the table stared at Black for five seconds before responding.
“Of course,” he said, “and where is the subject now?”
Black looked at his notes before answering.
“He was taken back to their base in Nevada, we believe he is still there.”
“And how are preparations for another attempt to obtain the subject at another location?”
“Sir, as far as we know his schedule has been cancelled until further notice.”
The man at the head of the table paused again before responding.
“This is unacceptable.” He said.
All Mr. Black could do was nod in agreement.
Above the Earth the starship Eagle had dropped to a slightly closer orbit to Earth. The result was that it would slowly creep forward in position with respect to the Earth’s surface. Earlier in the week it allowed the ship to fire on targets in Nigeria. Now it was time to operate in Indochina.
On the way up to the command deck Evelyn Boatman had chatted with Robert Heinlein.
“So you are recovering from that gunshot?” Said Heinlein.
“Only so, sir.” Boatman replied. “On the ground I would still be stuck in a wheelchair. Alice believes that I would heal faster in free fall or under spin on board the Eagle.”
“I’m sorry,” said Heinlein, “Alice?”
“The ship’s surgeon, sir. I adopted her two incarnations ago.”
“Oh...”
Once everyone was strapped in on the command deck the order was given to proceed.
The secondary mission was to bombard targets on the ground in Indochina. This included trucks, bridges, and other logistical facilities on the Ho Chi Mihn Trail in Laos and Cambodia, as well as tanks, artillery pieces, barracks, warehousers, aircraft and their bases, and anti-aircraft missile sites in North Vietnam proper. And finally the port and railroad facilities at Haipong and Hanoi. As there was an unlimited supply of coherent light available for the operation there was no effort made to distinguish decoys from real objects on the ground.
The primary mission was to rescue prisoners of war being held in North Vietnam. For this mission four of the five Ranger platoons of the reinforced company embanked on the Eagle would be dropped on the POW camps. Once the areas were secured larger landers would be brought in to evacuate the inmates.
The initial laser strikes would be on fighter bases and SAM sites followed by supporting strikes at the POW camps.
On the command deck one of the fire control techs spoke up.
“Sir, we have an American aircraft in the zone, it appears to be a SR-71 recon bird, I’ve marked it as a don’t shoot.”
The Allied Command in Vietnam was warned that a major operation would be carried out tonight and that aircraft should stay out of Northern airspace.
“Well done,” said Commander Boatman, “you may proceed.”
The American Blackbird reconnaissance aircraft was approaching Hanoi when the operation began. Suddenly the night sky was lit up by the laser strikes. Each laser beam appearing like a razor straight bolt of lightening that suddenly appeared and vanished.
“Holy shit!” Said the pilot. “Are you seeing this?”
The Navigator/Recon Systems officer in the back seat looked out the port side window.
“Wow.” He replied.
“I’m aborting the mission.”
“Roger that.”
In the skies over North Vietnam the four platoon landers approached their targets. Each lander was twice the size of a C-5A Galaxy tactical transport aircraft. For the night’s mission each Ranger platoon would be split into one or two squad groups. It was deemed essential that all prisoners be rescued on this night.
In the Uptimer view Communism was a predatory ideology. And when attacked the adherents of the doctrine were expected to respond as predatory animals under attack. They were expected to violently lash out at any target within their reach such as prisoners of war. This was pointed out as an objection when the original concept of attacking the Ho Chi Mihn Trail by laser fire was proposed.
Nathan Benson would lead the Rangers from the front on this drop. In his original incarnation he served as a Ranger officer and ultimately retired as a Colonel. When the mission to explore the Solar System after the passage of a neutron star was initially proposed he would volunteer to be incarnated and lead the reinforced Ranger company with the rank of Major on the mission.
To any civilian observer the second incarnation of Nathan Benson looked like an 18 year old boy straight out of high school. This led to no end of confusion on the part of the groundhogs living at the present time.
The navy chief acting as jumpmaster spoke up on the command channel.
“We are approaching jump zone Alpha. Alpha Group stand up!”
Two squads of the first platoon and part of the command group, a total of 30 Rangers, stood up. As each fully suited Ranger had a mass of about a ton each the movement could be felt by everyone aboard the lander.
“Hook up!”
Each of the Rangers hooked up the static lines, which would open their main parachutes after they jumped out.
“Thirty seconds to drop!”
Ahead of the Rangers two hatches opened. The internal hatch which sealed the pressurized compartment from the outside and the rear ramp of the lander.
The jumpmaster now performed the countdown to the drop.
“...three, two, one, jump!”
Major Benson was the first to step into the night sky over Hanoi.
“So Mr. Black, what happened in Minneapolis?”
“Sir, the two local police officers had intercepted the subject before our people could obtain him.”
“And how was it that our people in Minneapolis could not obtain the subject in accordance to the plan?”
“Sir, his trip to the White Castle in North East Minneapolis was completely unexpected. It was assumed by our people that he would take his lunch beak at an...um...better restaurant.”
The man at the head of the table stared at Black for five seconds before responding.
“Of course,” he said, “and where is the subject now?”
Black looked at his notes before answering.
“He was taken back to their base in Nevada, we believe he is still there.”
“And how are preparations for another attempt to obtain the subject at another location?”
“Sir, as far as we know his schedule has been cancelled until further notice.”
The man at the head of the table paused again before responding.
“This is unacceptable.” He said.
All Mr. Black could do was nod in agreement.
Above the Earth the starship Eagle had dropped to a slightly closer orbit to Earth. The result was that it would slowly creep forward in position with respect to the Earth’s surface. Earlier in the week it allowed the ship to fire on targets in Nigeria. Now it was time to operate in Indochina.
On the way up to the command deck Evelyn Boatman had chatted with Robert Heinlein.
“So you are recovering from that gunshot?” Said Heinlein.
“Only so, sir.” Boatman replied. “On the ground I would still be stuck in a wheelchair. Alice believes that I would heal faster in free fall or under spin on board the Eagle.”
“I’m sorry,” said Heinlein, “Alice?”
“The ship’s surgeon, sir. I adopted her two incarnations ago.”
“Oh...”
Once everyone was strapped in on the command deck the order was given to proceed.
The secondary mission was to bombard targets on the ground in Indochina. This included trucks, bridges, and other logistical facilities on the Ho Chi Mihn Trail in Laos and Cambodia, as well as tanks, artillery pieces, barracks, warehousers, aircraft and their bases, and anti-aircraft missile sites in North Vietnam proper. And finally the port and railroad facilities at Haipong and Hanoi. As there was an unlimited supply of coherent light available for the operation there was no effort made to distinguish decoys from real objects on the ground.
The primary mission was to rescue prisoners of war being held in North Vietnam. For this mission four of the five Ranger platoons of the reinforced company embanked on the Eagle would be dropped on the POW camps. Once the areas were secured larger landers would be brought in to evacuate the inmates.
The initial laser strikes would be on fighter bases and SAM sites followed by supporting strikes at the POW camps.
On the command deck one of the fire control techs spoke up.
“Sir, we have an American aircraft in the zone, it appears to be a SR-71 recon bird, I’ve marked it as a don’t shoot.”
The Allied Command in Vietnam was warned that a major operation would be carried out tonight and that aircraft should stay out of Northern airspace.
“Well done,” said Commander Boatman, “you may proceed.”
The American Blackbird reconnaissance aircraft was approaching Hanoi when the operation began. Suddenly the night sky was lit up by the laser strikes. Each laser beam appearing like a razor straight bolt of lightening that suddenly appeared and vanished.
“Holy shit!” Said the pilot. “Are you seeing this?”
The Navigator/Recon Systems officer in the back seat looked out the port side window.
“Wow.” He replied.
“I’m aborting the mission.”
“Roger that.”
In the skies over North Vietnam the four platoon landers approached their targets. Each lander was twice the size of a C-5A Galaxy tactical transport aircraft. For the night’s mission each Ranger platoon would be split into one or two squad groups. It was deemed essential that all prisoners be rescued on this night.
In the Uptimer view Communism was a predatory ideology. And when attacked the adherents of the doctrine were expected to respond as predatory animals under attack. They were expected to violently lash out at any target within their reach such as prisoners of war. This was pointed out as an objection when the original concept of attacking the Ho Chi Mihn Trail by laser fire was proposed.
Nathan Benson would lead the Rangers from the front on this drop. In his original incarnation he served as a Ranger officer and ultimately retired as a Colonel. When the mission to explore the Solar System after the passage of a neutron star was initially proposed he would volunteer to be incarnated and lead the reinforced Ranger company with the rank of Major on the mission.
To any civilian observer the second incarnation of Nathan Benson looked like an 18 year old boy straight out of high school. This led to no end of confusion on the part of the groundhogs living at the present time.
The navy chief acting as jumpmaster spoke up on the command channel.
“We are approaching jump zone Alpha. Alpha Group stand up!”
Two squads of the first platoon and part of the command group, a total of 30 Rangers, stood up. As each fully suited Ranger had a mass of about a ton each the movement could be felt by everyone aboard the lander.
“Hook up!”
Each of the Rangers hooked up the static lines, which would open their main parachutes after they jumped out.
“Thirty seconds to drop!”
Ahead of the Rangers two hatches opened. The internal hatch which sealed the pressurized compartment from the outside and the rear ramp of the lander.
The jumpmaster now performed the countdown to the drop.
“...three, two, one, jump!”
Major Benson was the first to step into the night sky over Hanoi.
Wednesday, September 03, 2014
Step Back, Part 6
John Cross was traveling under a false identity. The flight on a British airliner from Heathrow to JFK on Long Island was perfectly boring. And while he did perform his usual chat up of a stewardess in the First Class section he would not have time for any extracurricular sexual activity on this mission.
To an external observer he was an example of an increasingly rare phenomena, the aging and well off British financier traveling on business. Unfortunately with the Labour Party in power in the United Kingdom this facade was becoming less credible by the day.
Cross had his travel documents ready when he stepped up to the young woman at the customs station. There was a cursory examination the documents and his luggage.
The young woman smiled.
“Welcome to the United States, Mister Rose.”
He smiled in return.
“Thank you.”
From JFK Airport he took a cab to a Hilton Hotel in Manhattan. Once he was in his room he made a phone call to a local number.
“This is Jack Rose, I’ve arrived.”
A woman’s voice responded.
“Thank you Mister Rose.”
Roughly an hour later there was a knock on the door of the hotel room. He answered it.
It was an old friend in the intelligence service, Richard Drake.
“Jack, it’s damned good to see again, even under the circumstances! So they pulled you out of retirement for this?”
He had met Drake when he was a newly commissioned subaltern in Korea. Drake was now covered as the British press attache in New York.
He replied.
“Dicky, you know a training slot is not retirement.”
“It may as well be.” Drake responded. “I brought your stuff.”
Drake carried a large suitcase into the room. When Cross closed the door the case was opened.
“Here you go,” said Drake, “An M1911A1 pistol with shoulder rig, daylight and infrared cameras, and some American silver coins and paper currency.”
Drake then pulled a set of keys from his coat pocket.
“And your car, a new Ford Mustang with a large bore engine and four speed manual gearbox. God only knows why you’re getting all this American...stuff.”
“You should know why, Dicky.” Cross replied. “It fits in here in the States and I can resupply locally. This isn’t one of those silly James Bond movies.”
To actual intelligence officers the James Bond series, both the literary works by Ian Fleming and the movies based on them, were a series of bad jokes.
In part this was because working intelligence officers didn’t get laid as often as the fictional Secret Agent 007.
Drake spoke again.
“Awful mess in Minneapolis, what?”
“Yes,” Cross replied, “But it’s not our problem. The PM wants to knew why these people are not talking to us.”
“It’s very obvious,” Drake replied, “all he has to do is look in a mirror.”
It was no secret that the Uptimers were averse to socialism.
“What the PM wants is a politically acceptable answer.”
“Well what can I say to that?” Said Drake. “Good luck.”
Across Manhattan the scene was repeated three times with one French and two Soviet intelligence officers who were also operating without legal cover. The Frenchman would drive a Chevrolet Camaro to Nevada while the Soviets were issued Chrysler products for their mission. In each case for the Soviets it was a standard four door Plymouth sedan.
Later in the evening aboard the SS Apollo, the flagship of the Sea Organization of the Church of Scientology--L. Ron Hubbard--the founder of church was opening a large manila envelope that was addressed to him.
The contents of the envelope were pages containing text and photographs. Hubbard then read the cover letter.
As a practitioner of Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism I would not normally care about any aspect of Scientology or Dianetics. However, as a result of our accidental journey backwards in time we have information that does concern you and the COS. After your death on the original timeline in 1986 a young man, David Miscavige, had in a fashion contrary to your instructions taken control of the COS. As the head of COS Miscavige had practiced Black Dianetics and brought the church to the edge of extinction. Normally I would not be concerned about this but his actions would ultimately result in the inflicting of needless suffering on members of the Sea Org and at least one senseless and preventable death. As an Objectivist I cannot in good conscience allow this to happen without an intervention. I fully recommend that Miscavige be permanently disconnected from the COS. As to the question of if process R2-45 should be carried out on him I will leave this to you.
Evelyn Boatman, Mission Commander of Starship Eagle
PS: RAH says hi.
Scientology process R2-45 was the termination of a life with a M1911A1 pistol. Hubbard himself had personally described it as, “an enormously effective process for exteriorization but its use is frowned upon by this society at this time.”
Some people in the audience had found this statement humorous.
Hubbard now sat back in his chair and examined the primary contents of the package.
In Nevada right after the sunset Evelyn Boatman sat in a wheelchair outside of his hospital room. He was pondering the events that were now in motion and wishing he had a couple of double cheese burgers from White Castle.
To an external observer he was an example of an increasingly rare phenomena, the aging and well off British financier traveling on business. Unfortunately with the Labour Party in power in the United Kingdom this facade was becoming less credible by the day.
Cross had his travel documents ready when he stepped up to the young woman at the customs station. There was a cursory examination the documents and his luggage.
The young woman smiled.
“Welcome to the United States, Mister Rose.”
He smiled in return.
“Thank you.”
From JFK Airport he took a cab to a Hilton Hotel in Manhattan. Once he was in his room he made a phone call to a local number.
“This is Jack Rose, I’ve arrived.”
A woman’s voice responded.
“Thank you Mister Rose.”
Roughly an hour later there was a knock on the door of the hotel room. He answered it.
It was an old friend in the intelligence service, Richard Drake.
“Jack, it’s damned good to see again, even under the circumstances! So they pulled you out of retirement for this?”
He had met Drake when he was a newly commissioned subaltern in Korea. Drake was now covered as the British press attache in New York.
He replied.
“Dicky, you know a training slot is not retirement.”
“It may as well be.” Drake responded. “I brought your stuff.”
Drake carried a large suitcase into the room. When Cross closed the door the case was opened.
“Here you go,” said Drake, “An M1911A1 pistol with shoulder rig, daylight and infrared cameras, and some American silver coins and paper currency.”
Drake then pulled a set of keys from his coat pocket.
“And your car, a new Ford Mustang with a large bore engine and four speed manual gearbox. God only knows why you’re getting all this American...stuff.”
“You should know why, Dicky.” Cross replied. “It fits in here in the States and I can resupply locally. This isn’t one of those silly James Bond movies.”
To actual intelligence officers the James Bond series, both the literary works by Ian Fleming and the movies based on them, were a series of bad jokes.
In part this was because working intelligence officers didn’t get laid as often as the fictional Secret Agent 007.
Drake spoke again.
“Awful mess in Minneapolis, what?”
“Yes,” Cross replied, “But it’s not our problem. The PM wants to knew why these people are not talking to us.”
“It’s very obvious,” Drake replied, “all he has to do is look in a mirror.”
It was no secret that the Uptimers were averse to socialism.
“What the PM wants is a politically acceptable answer.”
“Well what can I say to that?” Said Drake. “Good luck.”
Across Manhattan the scene was repeated three times with one French and two Soviet intelligence officers who were also operating without legal cover. The Frenchman would drive a Chevrolet Camaro to Nevada while the Soviets were issued Chrysler products for their mission. In each case for the Soviets it was a standard four door Plymouth sedan.
Later in the evening aboard the SS Apollo, the flagship of the Sea Organization of the Church of Scientology--L. Ron Hubbard--the founder of church was opening a large manila envelope that was addressed to him.
The contents of the envelope were pages containing text and photographs. Hubbard then read the cover letter.
As a practitioner of Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism I would not normally care about any aspect of Scientology or Dianetics. However, as a result of our accidental journey backwards in time we have information that does concern you and the COS. After your death on the original timeline in 1986 a young man, David Miscavige, had in a fashion contrary to your instructions taken control of the COS. As the head of COS Miscavige had practiced Black Dianetics and brought the church to the edge of extinction. Normally I would not be concerned about this but his actions would ultimately result in the inflicting of needless suffering on members of the Sea Org and at least one senseless and preventable death. As an Objectivist I cannot in good conscience allow this to happen without an intervention. I fully recommend that Miscavige be permanently disconnected from the COS. As to the question of if process R2-45 should be carried out on him I will leave this to you.
Evelyn Boatman, Mission Commander of Starship Eagle
PS: RAH says hi.
Scientology process R2-45 was the termination of a life with a M1911A1 pistol. Hubbard himself had personally described it as, “an enormously effective process for exteriorization but its use is frowned upon by this society at this time.”
Some people in the audience had found this statement humorous.
Hubbard now sat back in his chair and examined the primary contents of the package.
In Nevada right after the sunset Evelyn Boatman sat in a wheelchair outside of his hospital room. He was pondering the events that were now in motion and wishing he had a couple of double cheese burgers from White Castle.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Step Back Part Four
Saturday September 20, 1969
At a rare Saturday morning meeting of the Soviet Politburo a film was shown. It was a 16 millimeter film produced by the U.S. Government of an interview with Mission Commander Evelyn Boatman. The intended audience were the heads of allied governments along with diplomatic and miliary leaders with top secret clearance.
The KGB had stolen a copy.
For this showing the live accurate and translation of the Standard English dialog was provided by two field grade KGB officers reading from a prepared script.
The officer reading for Boatman was in fact the second man selected for the task. The first had visibly flinched upon reading through the script for the first time and ultimately would refuse the assignment.
“There is simply no way around it, the fact is that Soviet Communism is based on a purely false concept of human life and is thus doomed to failure.”
The members of the Politburo sat silently as the historic image of the red banner of the Soviet Union being lowered from the Kremlin for the last time was projected on the screen.
Boatman had spoken again.
“Although the Soviet state had been quietly dismantled in the original timeline we cannot be certain of that this will occur in the current timeline.”
When the film ended and the lights came up the Minister for Agriculture spoke.
“How could this child be in command of the Star People?”
Star People was the term adopted by the Soviets for the crew of the starship Eagle.
Yuri Andropov, the Chairman of the KGB, responded.
“Comrade Minister, The Star People claim to be able to medically reproduce a fully functional mind in a new body. As a result Boatman himself claims to over two centuries old.”
The Minister for Industry spoke up.
“Don’t they know that Communism is the greatest and final form of social organization? How could they not know this? How could they be so blind?”
Andropov answered.
“The Star People are claiming that they have a capitalist society under a minimum state. And they are also claiming that their political doctrine is based on the works of Ayn Rand.”
The minister’s eyes widened and he shouted out his response.
“Rosenbaum--that lying cunt? She knows nothing!”
The Industry Minister had used Rand’s given surname. Andropov again replied.
“Boatman and several other Star People have met with Rand and her inner circle in New York. And they are now actively promoting her philosophy of Objectivism within the United States.”
“Why do they bother with her?” Said the Industry Minister. “That cunt was discredited when the affair with her head disciple was exposed!”
It was at this time that Leonid Brezhnev, the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, spoke up.
“Comrades, let us stick to main topic, what can we do about this potential future?”
Most of the members silently sat up and nodded. Brezhnev then spoke again.
“Mikhail Gorbachev, step forward.”
Gorbachev had been brought directly from his apartment in Moscow with only a brief amount of time to dress himself. As a result his appearance before the Politburo was shoddy and unshaven. He then was seated to the side of the room as the film was shown to the committee.
As a result he now saw himself as a dead man standing.
Brezhnev spoke.
“So Gorbachev, what do you have to say for yourself?”
As he saw himself as effectively dead there was no point in attempting to deceive anyone. He answered honestly.
“What can I say comrades?”
The Minister for Agriculture spoke in return.
“What can you say? What can you say? What kind of policies are Openness and Restructuring?”
Gorbachev looked directly at the Agriculture Minister before replying.
“Comrade minister, you speak of events that have not happened, nor as a result of the appearance of the Star People will they ever happen.”
“Explain.” Said Brezhnev.
“The appearance of the Star People has already altered the chain of events. What they have told the Americans about the future has altered how they will act in the future. And changes in how the Americans act will result in changes in how the Soviet Union will respond. The future described by Boatman is already dead.”
“Nonsense.” The Minister of Industry replied. “Boatman and his people are lying!”
The Minister of Science spoke up.
“I must strongly disagree. The Star People have brought back data on astronomy that they have shared with the Americans, who in turn have shared it with astronomers worldwide including ours. This includes data on the dead star designated Niven Sixty-Nine. Several of our radio telescopes have now confirmed the existence of the dead star.”
Everyone in the room stared at the minister. Brezhnev spoke up.
“What does that mean?”
“In the late Twenty Second century this object will pass through the inner solar system and will radically alter the orbits of the planets, including the Earth.”
Another minister spoke up up.
“Will it hit anything?”
“That’s unknown.”
Andropov then spoke.
“According to the little information we have the intended mission of the Eagle was to assess the damage done by the object and to rescue any survivors found in the Solar System. The Eagle was originally constructed as a ship that traveled below the speed of light. When a faster than light drive was developed it was installed in the ship and successfully flown on two missions to nearby stars before the mission to Earth was attempted. Their passage backwards in time was not expected.”
Another minister spoke up.
“So what do we do now?”
No one had an answer.
At a rare Saturday morning meeting of the Soviet Politburo a film was shown. It was a 16 millimeter film produced by the U.S. Government of an interview with Mission Commander Evelyn Boatman. The intended audience were the heads of allied governments along with diplomatic and miliary leaders with top secret clearance.
The KGB had stolen a copy.
For this showing the live accurate and translation of the Standard English dialog was provided by two field grade KGB officers reading from a prepared script.
The officer reading for Boatman was in fact the second man selected for the task. The first had visibly flinched upon reading through the script for the first time and ultimately would refuse the assignment.
“There is simply no way around it, the fact is that Soviet Communism is based on a purely false concept of human life and is thus doomed to failure.”
The members of the Politburo sat silently as the historic image of the red banner of the Soviet Union being lowered from the Kremlin for the last time was projected on the screen.
Boatman had spoken again.
“Although the Soviet state had been quietly dismantled in the original timeline we cannot be certain of that this will occur in the current timeline.”
When the film ended and the lights came up the Minister for Agriculture spoke.
“How could this child be in command of the Star People?”
Star People was the term adopted by the Soviets for the crew of the starship Eagle.
Yuri Andropov, the Chairman of the KGB, responded.
“Comrade Minister, The Star People claim to be able to medically reproduce a fully functional mind in a new body. As a result Boatman himself claims to over two centuries old.”
The Minister for Industry spoke up.
“Don’t they know that Communism is the greatest and final form of social organization? How could they not know this? How could they be so blind?”
Andropov answered.
“The Star People are claiming that they have a capitalist society under a minimum state. And they are also claiming that their political doctrine is based on the works of Ayn Rand.”
The minister’s eyes widened and he shouted out his response.
“Rosenbaum--that lying cunt? She knows nothing!”
The Industry Minister had used Rand’s given surname. Andropov again replied.
“Boatman and several other Star People have met with Rand and her inner circle in New York. And they are now actively promoting her philosophy of Objectivism within the United States.”
“Why do they bother with her?” Said the Industry Minister. “That cunt was discredited when the affair with her head disciple was exposed!”
It was at this time that Leonid Brezhnev, the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, spoke up.
“Comrades, let us stick to main topic, what can we do about this potential future?”
Most of the members silently sat up and nodded. Brezhnev then spoke again.
“Mikhail Gorbachev, step forward.”
Gorbachev had been brought directly from his apartment in Moscow with only a brief amount of time to dress himself. As a result his appearance before the Politburo was shoddy and unshaven. He then was seated to the side of the room as the film was shown to the committee.
As a result he now saw himself as a dead man standing.
Brezhnev spoke.
“So Gorbachev, what do you have to say for yourself?”
As he saw himself as effectively dead there was no point in attempting to deceive anyone. He answered honestly.
“What can I say comrades?”
The Minister for Agriculture spoke in return.
“What can you say? What can you say? What kind of policies are Openness and Restructuring?”
Gorbachev looked directly at the Agriculture Minister before replying.
“Comrade minister, you speak of events that have not happened, nor as a result of the appearance of the Star People will they ever happen.”
“Explain.” Said Brezhnev.
“The appearance of the Star People has already altered the chain of events. What they have told the Americans about the future has altered how they will act in the future. And changes in how the Americans act will result in changes in how the Soviet Union will respond. The future described by Boatman is already dead.”
“Nonsense.” The Minister of Industry replied. “Boatman and his people are lying!”
The Minister of Science spoke up.
“I must strongly disagree. The Star People have brought back data on astronomy that they have shared with the Americans, who in turn have shared it with astronomers worldwide including ours. This includes data on the dead star designated Niven Sixty-Nine. Several of our radio telescopes have now confirmed the existence of the dead star.”
Everyone in the room stared at the minister. Brezhnev spoke up.
“What does that mean?”
“In the late Twenty Second century this object will pass through the inner solar system and will radically alter the orbits of the planets, including the Earth.”
Another minister spoke up up.
“Will it hit anything?”
“That’s unknown.”
Andropov then spoke.
“According to the little information we have the intended mission of the Eagle was to assess the damage done by the object and to rescue any survivors found in the Solar System. The Eagle was originally constructed as a ship that traveled below the speed of light. When a faster than light drive was developed it was installed in the ship and successfully flown on two missions to nearby stars before the mission to Earth was attempted. Their passage backwards in time was not expected.”
Another minister spoke up.
“So what do we do now?”
No one had an answer.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Step Back, Part Three
It was Friday afternoon in Washington.
At his desk John Edgar Hoover was immersed in thought. The people from the future had brought back disturbing information about how far his agency would descend into the darkness before the Federal Government would be overthrown in the event known as The Reformation. Of particular interest was the incident recorded in their history as the Waco Massacre. Although another agency initiated the incident it would be the bureau that would carry out what uptime historians called the greatest act of mass murder in American history.
So how can it be stopped?
The answer to the question may lie with a man identified by the Uptimers as a future occupant of the office of president, William Jefferson Clinton. His name as well has wife’s was on the list of those person who would bring about the collapse of the republic and provoke The Reformation. The question of what to do with these people had been discussed with Hoover and President Nixon by Commander Boatman.
“One could carry out a dirty war, essentially a discrete campaign of assassination, but it would ultimately be revealed to public view and thus bring about a negative political blowback.”
“It would be wrong.” Nixon replied.
“No Mister President,” said Boatman, “it would not be wrong, to terminate a Red or even a mere traitor is a necessary homicide. But by the present cultural standards it would be impractical. This is something that will have to changed in the long run.”
Hoover had then asked a question.
“So what would you suggest that we do with these people?”
Boatman had nodded before he replied.
“Something that could be described as a clean war is in order. Place these people under surveillance and arrest them when they do something that can prosecuted as a crime. You should do this to destroy their future political credibility.”
Hoover sat back in his chair and thought. In the historic context the original ATF operation against the Branch Davidian residence was unnecessary. As a licensed firearms dealer was living on site a pair of ATF agents in a government issue sedan could have visited the residence for an inspection. And if actually taking David Koresh into custody was necessary he could have been placed under arrest while on his morning exercise run.
No, the ATF action, originally dubbed Operation Showtime, was an irrational publicity stunt that had clearly gone wrong. The ATF agents were the actual criminals in this situation and should at the very least been taken into custody.
The initial action was bad, the response of the Bureau was worse.
In the history taught to the Uptimers the Waco Massacre was described as a act of Soviet style state terror intended to punish the Branch Davidians for the act of self defense and to intimidate otherwise patriotic citizens into submission to the Clinton Regime. In response the people who carried out The Reformation would make a clear effort to locate and execute the surviving members of the so-called Hostage Rescue Team of the Bureau.
It was possible that the historical view of the Uptimers was distorted. But by how much?
Clinton had clearly demonstrated that he was unfit to be president. So how could he be blocked from entering the office?
He was identified in the historic record as a sexual predator. And had been fellated at least once in the Oval Office. Those men, including the President, who had been cleared to read the full history brought back by the Uptimers had been shocked to have read this.
It appeared that like Teddy Kennedy, Clinton was willing to sexually use women who worked for him. Could this personal fault could be used to stop him?
It was at this that point Director Hoover decided to place Bill Clinton under long term surveillance by the Bureau.
In downtown Minneapolis a chartered cross country bus pulled up to the entrance of the Auditorium and Convention Center. The door opened and the first to step out was a tall middle aged man, the Reverend William Grant.
From across the street he could see a squad of armed paratroopers looking on in curiosity. President Nixon had deployed the alert brigade of the 101th Airborne Division to Minneapolis to keep order in the wake of the massacre of a significant fraction of the municipal police force.
“Praise The Lord,” he said, “we are here.”
As with many people his curiosity had been piqued with the announcement of the discovery of an inbound starship seen in the southern constellation of Centaurus. He was slightly amused at the Soviet announcement that they had made radio contact with the alien communist expedition. He was not at all surprised that the Soviets had lied when actual radio contact with the incoming vessel had been made.
What was shocking was that the starship was flown by humans who had accidentally come from the future. What he found appalling was that every member of the ship’s company was an atheist and that not one of them would ever speak with him.
They had absolutely denied The Lord Jesus Christ.
But what truly appalled him was that the people from the starship Eagle had been led by a child. He had watched at the office of his evangelical ministry the lived televison coverage of the initial meeting of the starmen and President Nixon at Edwards Air Force Base. The landing craft had been roughly the size of an old DC-3 and vertically landed in a horizontal configuration. The first of the star travelers to step out from the craft was a teenage boy in a shipboard jumpsuit.
President Nixon was speechless. He would later say that he didn’t expect to meet with such an obviously young man.
Apparently the boy had expected this.
“Mister President,” he said, “we have a medical procedure that recreates the effect of reincarnation. I’m presently on my sixth incarnation, sir.”
Certainly this was lie. This absolutely had to be a lie.
The more Reverend Grant had learned of the people who claimed to be from the future the more he was convinced that all they spoke were lies.
They were clearly the creation and instruments of Satan.
There was no possible other explanation for their presence.
What was worse was that his 14 year old daughter Judith was in the office and watching the live broadcast. She appeared to have been enthralled by the boy who walked as a man.
“Child!” Reverend Grant had shouted. “That is a servant of the devil! Leave this room! Now!”
He had done everything he could to protect his children from the presently depraved culture of America. And it had appeared to him that this was not enough.
But now that he was in Minneapolis he would meet with the families of the police officers murdered by the servants of Satan. And he could hold a massive worship service here at the Minneapolis Auditorium.
He would do everything he could to stop these tools of Satan.
At his desk John Edgar Hoover was immersed in thought. The people from the future had brought back disturbing information about how far his agency would descend into the darkness before the Federal Government would be overthrown in the event known as The Reformation. Of particular interest was the incident recorded in their history as the Waco Massacre. Although another agency initiated the incident it would be the bureau that would carry out what uptime historians called the greatest act of mass murder in American history.
So how can it be stopped?
The answer to the question may lie with a man identified by the Uptimers as a future occupant of the office of president, William Jefferson Clinton. His name as well has wife’s was on the list of those person who would bring about the collapse of the republic and provoke The Reformation. The question of what to do with these people had been discussed with Hoover and President Nixon by Commander Boatman.
“One could carry out a dirty war, essentially a discrete campaign of assassination, but it would ultimately be revealed to public view and thus bring about a negative political blowback.”
“It would be wrong.” Nixon replied.
“No Mister President,” said Boatman, “it would not be wrong, to terminate a Red or even a mere traitor is a necessary homicide. But by the present cultural standards it would be impractical. This is something that will have to changed in the long run.”
Hoover had then asked a question.
“So what would you suggest that we do with these people?”
Boatman had nodded before he replied.
“Something that could be described as a clean war is in order. Place these people under surveillance and arrest them when they do something that can prosecuted as a crime. You should do this to destroy their future political credibility.”
Hoover sat back in his chair and thought. In the historic context the original ATF operation against the Branch Davidian residence was unnecessary. As a licensed firearms dealer was living on site a pair of ATF agents in a government issue sedan could have visited the residence for an inspection. And if actually taking David Koresh into custody was necessary he could have been placed under arrest while on his morning exercise run.
No, the ATF action, originally dubbed Operation Showtime, was an irrational publicity stunt that had clearly gone wrong. The ATF agents were the actual criminals in this situation and should at the very least been taken into custody.
The initial action was bad, the response of the Bureau was worse.
In the history taught to the Uptimers the Waco Massacre was described as a act of Soviet style state terror intended to punish the Branch Davidians for the act of self defense and to intimidate otherwise patriotic citizens into submission to the Clinton Regime. In response the people who carried out The Reformation would make a clear effort to locate and execute the surviving members of the so-called Hostage Rescue Team of the Bureau.
It was possible that the historical view of the Uptimers was distorted. But by how much?
Clinton had clearly demonstrated that he was unfit to be president. So how could he be blocked from entering the office?
He was identified in the historic record as a sexual predator. And had been fellated at least once in the Oval Office. Those men, including the President, who had been cleared to read the full history brought back by the Uptimers had been shocked to have read this.
It appeared that like Teddy Kennedy, Clinton was willing to sexually use women who worked for him. Could this personal fault could be used to stop him?
It was at this that point Director Hoover decided to place Bill Clinton under long term surveillance by the Bureau.
In downtown Minneapolis a chartered cross country bus pulled up to the entrance of the Auditorium and Convention Center. The door opened and the first to step out was a tall middle aged man, the Reverend William Grant.
From across the street he could see a squad of armed paratroopers looking on in curiosity. President Nixon had deployed the alert brigade of the 101th Airborne Division to Minneapolis to keep order in the wake of the massacre of a significant fraction of the municipal police force.
“Praise The Lord,” he said, “we are here.”
As with many people his curiosity had been piqued with the announcement of the discovery of an inbound starship seen in the southern constellation of Centaurus. He was slightly amused at the Soviet announcement that they had made radio contact with the alien communist expedition. He was not at all surprised that the Soviets had lied when actual radio contact with the incoming vessel had been made.
What was shocking was that the starship was flown by humans who had accidentally come from the future. What he found appalling was that every member of the ship’s company was an atheist and that not one of them would ever speak with him.
They had absolutely denied The Lord Jesus Christ.
But what truly appalled him was that the people from the starship Eagle had been led by a child. He had watched at the office of his evangelical ministry the lived televison coverage of the initial meeting of the starmen and President Nixon at Edwards Air Force Base. The landing craft had been roughly the size of an old DC-3 and vertically landed in a horizontal configuration. The first of the star travelers to step out from the craft was a teenage boy in a shipboard jumpsuit.
President Nixon was speechless. He would later say that he didn’t expect to meet with such an obviously young man.
Apparently the boy had expected this.
“Mister President,” he said, “we have a medical procedure that recreates the effect of reincarnation. I’m presently on my sixth incarnation, sir.”
Certainly this was lie. This absolutely had to be a lie.
The more Reverend Grant had learned of the people who claimed to be from the future the more he was convinced that all they spoke were lies.
They were clearly the creation and instruments of Satan.
There was no possible other explanation for their presence.
What was worse was that his 14 year old daughter Judith was in the office and watching the live broadcast. She appeared to have been enthralled by the boy who walked as a man.
“Child!” Reverend Grant had shouted. “That is a servant of the devil! Leave this room! Now!”
He had done everything he could to protect his children from the presently depraved culture of America. And it had appeared to him that this was not enough.
But now that he was in Minneapolis he would meet with the families of the police officers murdered by the servants of Satan. And he could hold a massive worship service here at the Minneapolis Auditorium.
He would do everything he could to stop these tools of Satan.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Second Episode
September 19, 1969
Evelyn Boatman slowly awakened.
He was laying in a hospital bed under full terrestrial gravity. He could feel an oxygen tube in place on his nose. When he opened his eyes he saw a familiar figure standing beside the bed. A woman in scrubs and a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. The ship’s surgeon and his adopted daughter Alice.
“Hi Dad.” She said.
“What happened?” He replied. “Where am I?”
“We’re at our ground base. You seriously stirred up a nest of shrieks dirtside.”
The current ground base for the Eagle mission was at the U.S. Government’s Secret Area 51 in New Mexico.
He nodded, then replied.
“In the Terran context it should be hornets.”
“Whatever.” She replied. “What was the last thing you remember?”
He thought for a moment before answering.
“We had found temporary sanctuary at the local FBI office. The squad lander had set down in front of the Federal Building on Third Avenue and the Ranger squad was deployed in a circle. John and I had almost made it to the lander when something hit me in the back.”
Alice nodded and replied.
“It was a thirty caliber rifle fired by a police marksman. He apparently thought that the Federal order to not shoot you didn’t apply to him. The Rangers responded and killed every Minneapolis cop in sight. The dirtside press are now calling the incident the Minneapolis Massacre.”
“Morons.” He said.
“The cops or the press?” She replied.
“Both.”
Alice nodded.
He had another question.
“So how’s John?”
“He’s unharmed and back with his family in Huntsville.” She said. “Everyone at NASA Huntsville is seriously angry about the incident. And apparently Werner was actually cursing in Deutsche, something about the SS not being that stupid.”
Boatman could only nod. Doctor Von Braun’s personal history was something that not discussed.
Alice spoke again.
“So what happened to you? Well the bullet missed the heart but the right lung did collapse and we had to reinflate it. I want to keep you in bed until I’m certain it remains inflated. Do you understand?”
He looked up at Alice, she had her serious doctor look on her face.
“Yes ma’am.” He replied.
In Washington President Richard Milhous Nixon was not looking forward to the coming meeting. The Minneapolis Massacre had become a political nightmare for the administration. Although the Uptimers were fully cooperating with the FBI and fully presenting their case to the press the various news outlets were not presenting all of the facts. There appeared to be a concerted effort on the press to place the full blame for the incident on the Uptimers and the federal agencies that supported them.
The meeting would be held in the cabinet room in the West Wing. Along with the president would be the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Earle Wheeler of the United States Army, and the Director of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover. The Uptimers would be represented by executive officer of the Eagle, Lieutenant Commander Michelle Keller. Commander Keller had brought a one of the spare laptop computers from the Eagle with her for the meeting.
The other side would be represented by Senators Hubert Humphrey and Edward Kennedy.
An aide poked his head into the cabinet room and spoke.
“Mister President, the senators are here.”
“Send them in.”
“Yes sir.”
The three men stood up while Commander Keller remained seated.
As in the current norm the men shook hands then Senator Humphrey turned towards Commander Keller and put forth his hand with the expectation of a handshake. The Commander only responded with a cold stare.
President Nixon had read the full history of the United States up to the historical event the Uptimers called The Reformation. Given what he read he had expected the Uptimers to have a full hatred of the Democratic Party. What he found truly disturbing was their cold and clinical contempt for the Democrats instead of the emotional state of hatred.
Humphrey spoke.
“Do you understand courtesy?”
Commander Keller coldly responded.
“Where we come from the proper response to the presence of a Democrat is one round in the head in the old Soviet style.”
Both senators were shocked, their eyes widened.
Commander Keller pointed to the chairs as a command motion to sit.
The temperature in the cabinet room seemed to have dropped as the senators silently sat down.
Nixon had also read of the efforts of the political successors of the Democrats to prevent the construction of the sublight starships that would carry humans from the path of the oncoming neutron star that was expected to destroy Human Civilization in the Solar System.
As one of the Germans at Huntsville who also read the report had put it--those fools could have given Nietzsche several pointers on the philosophy of Nihilism.
Even so the clinical contempt of the Uptimers remained disturbing to the president.
President Nixon spoke.
“The subject of the discussion is the incident in Minneapolis yesterday.”
“Yes,” said Humphrey, “when will those murderers be brought to justice?”
Commander Keller calmly responded.
“Mister Humphrey, your police in Minneapolis chose to behave as predatory animals and were identified and dealt with as such. Justice has already been properly served.”
Humphrey face turned red as he raised his voice in response.
“THAT IS A LIE!”
Commander Keller said nothing in response. Instead she opened the laptop computer and positioned it so everyone at the table could see the screen and entered the command to play the audio-video file recorded by the lapel camera worn by Evelyn Boatman. Only after the file had completely played did she respond.
“As you can see the two officers in the initial incident failed to comply with the operational standards of a proper civil constabulary. Under the circumstances Mission Commander Boatman had no choice but to defend himself with deadly force.”
Both Director Hoover and General Wheeler nodded in agreement.
General Wheeler spoke up.
“Your cops were also ordered to stand down. Instead one of them shot Commander Boatman and the squad responded to that action in accordance to proper infantry doctrine.”
All of the television network news programs had shown newsreel footage of the Ranger squad, in their powered armor suits, engaging the Minneapolis Police on the ground. But the networks had consistently not shown the rifle shot that struck Boatman.
Humphrey spoke again.
“The Minneapolis police were slaughtered like animals! They didn’t know what they were up against!”
Director Hoover shook his head and replied.
“Senator, all the police departments in the Twin Cities area were notified of Commander Boatman’s visit to the area. The Saint Paul police informed their officers on duty of this. The Minneapolis police did not. So whose fault is this?”
Humphrey was struck silent, Kennedy now spoke up.
“So when will these monsters be disarmed?”
Commander Keller replied with a level voice.
“The citizens are the sovereign authority, those who seek to disarm them are traitors to the nation and should be put to death.”
Kennedy’s face turned red and he shouted in response.
“SHUT UP!”
President Nixon now interjected himself.
“Commander, I believe the senator is referring to your nuclear weapons.”
The planners of the Eagle expedition had no idea if anyone was still alive in the Solar System or how they would respond to a mission from Alpha Centauri. It was assumed that a hostile response was possible and that the expedition should be prepared for it. The Eagle at present carried more nuclear warheads than were in the arsenals of the United Kingdom, France, China, and Israel. Only the United States and Soviet Union outnumbered them in nuclear bombs and warheads.
“It simply won’t happen, sir.” She replied. “And Eagle is presently parked in geosynchronous orbit at about the longitude of Omaha, Nebraska. Our onboard laser batteries are presently providing coverage against a possible Soviet ballistic missile attack on the United States. If a hostile government were to come to power in the United States we would have withdraw our block against Soviet actions.”
What she left unsaid was that if a hostile president were elected it would be a very good idea to not be in Washington on Inauguration Day.
“You are the criminals!” Kennedy shouted.
Commander Keller slightly smiled, looked straight at Kennedy, and then she calmly spoke.
“Speaking of actual criminals, how is Mary Jo?”
Kennedy’s eyes widened. He shouted in response.
“HOW DARE YOU!”
Commander Keller’s eyes lit up as she spoke in response.
“Teddy, a proper government holds it’s elected officers to the highest reasonable standards, and the act of leaving a helpless young woman to slowly suffocate to death is something we treat as a capital crime.”
Well yes, the young woman in question was a Democrat, but a valid law must be applied to everyone without exception.
Kennedy quickly stood up and left the cabinet room.
President Nixon then spoke.
“Senator Humphrey, it appears that this meeting is over.”
Evelyn Boatman slowly awakened.
He was laying in a hospital bed under full terrestrial gravity. He could feel an oxygen tube in place on his nose. When he opened his eyes he saw a familiar figure standing beside the bed. A woman in scrubs and a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. The ship’s surgeon and his adopted daughter Alice.
“Hi Dad.” She said.
“What happened?” He replied. “Where am I?”
“We’re at our ground base. You seriously stirred up a nest of shrieks dirtside.”
The current ground base for the Eagle mission was at the U.S. Government’s Secret Area 51 in New Mexico.
He nodded, then replied.
“In the Terran context it should be hornets.”
“Whatever.” She replied. “What was the last thing you remember?”
He thought for a moment before answering.
“We had found temporary sanctuary at the local FBI office. The squad lander had set down in front of the Federal Building on Third Avenue and the Ranger squad was deployed in a circle. John and I had almost made it to the lander when something hit me in the back.”
Alice nodded and replied.
“It was a thirty caliber rifle fired by a police marksman. He apparently thought that the Federal order to not shoot you didn’t apply to him. The Rangers responded and killed every Minneapolis cop in sight. The dirtside press are now calling the incident the Minneapolis Massacre.”
“Morons.” He said.
“The cops or the press?” She replied.
“Both.”
Alice nodded.
He had another question.
“So how’s John?”
“He’s unharmed and back with his family in Huntsville.” She said. “Everyone at NASA Huntsville is seriously angry about the incident. And apparently Werner was actually cursing in Deutsche, something about the SS not being that stupid.”
Boatman could only nod. Doctor Von Braun’s personal history was something that not discussed.
Alice spoke again.
“So what happened to you? Well the bullet missed the heart but the right lung did collapse and we had to reinflate it. I want to keep you in bed until I’m certain it remains inflated. Do you understand?”
He looked up at Alice, she had her serious doctor look on her face.
“Yes ma’am.” He replied.
In Washington President Richard Milhous Nixon was not looking forward to the coming meeting. The Minneapolis Massacre had become a political nightmare for the administration. Although the Uptimers were fully cooperating with the FBI and fully presenting their case to the press the various news outlets were not presenting all of the facts. There appeared to be a concerted effort on the press to place the full blame for the incident on the Uptimers and the federal agencies that supported them.
The meeting would be held in the cabinet room in the West Wing. Along with the president would be the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Earle Wheeler of the United States Army, and the Director of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover. The Uptimers would be represented by executive officer of the Eagle, Lieutenant Commander Michelle Keller. Commander Keller had brought a one of the spare laptop computers from the Eagle with her for the meeting.
The other side would be represented by Senators Hubert Humphrey and Edward Kennedy.
An aide poked his head into the cabinet room and spoke.
“Mister President, the senators are here.”
“Send them in.”
“Yes sir.”
The three men stood up while Commander Keller remained seated.
As in the current norm the men shook hands then Senator Humphrey turned towards Commander Keller and put forth his hand with the expectation of a handshake. The Commander only responded with a cold stare.
President Nixon had read the full history of the United States up to the historical event the Uptimers called The Reformation. Given what he read he had expected the Uptimers to have a full hatred of the Democratic Party. What he found truly disturbing was their cold and clinical contempt for the Democrats instead of the emotional state of hatred.
Humphrey spoke.
“Do you understand courtesy?”
Commander Keller coldly responded.
“Where we come from the proper response to the presence of a Democrat is one round in the head in the old Soviet style.”
Both senators were shocked, their eyes widened.
Commander Keller pointed to the chairs as a command motion to sit.
The temperature in the cabinet room seemed to have dropped as the senators silently sat down.
Nixon had also read of the efforts of the political successors of the Democrats to prevent the construction of the sublight starships that would carry humans from the path of the oncoming neutron star that was expected to destroy Human Civilization in the Solar System.
As one of the Germans at Huntsville who also read the report had put it--those fools could have given Nietzsche several pointers on the philosophy of Nihilism.
Even so the clinical contempt of the Uptimers remained disturbing to the president.
President Nixon spoke.
“The subject of the discussion is the incident in Minneapolis yesterday.”
“Yes,” said Humphrey, “when will those murderers be brought to justice?”
Commander Keller calmly responded.
“Mister Humphrey, your police in Minneapolis chose to behave as predatory animals and were identified and dealt with as such. Justice has already been properly served.”
Humphrey face turned red as he raised his voice in response.
“THAT IS A LIE!”
Commander Keller said nothing in response. Instead she opened the laptop computer and positioned it so everyone at the table could see the screen and entered the command to play the audio-video file recorded by the lapel camera worn by Evelyn Boatman. Only after the file had completely played did she respond.
“As you can see the two officers in the initial incident failed to comply with the operational standards of a proper civil constabulary. Under the circumstances Mission Commander Boatman had no choice but to defend himself with deadly force.”
Both Director Hoover and General Wheeler nodded in agreement.
General Wheeler spoke up.
“Your cops were also ordered to stand down. Instead one of them shot Commander Boatman and the squad responded to that action in accordance to proper infantry doctrine.”
All of the television network news programs had shown newsreel footage of the Ranger squad, in their powered armor suits, engaging the Minneapolis Police on the ground. But the networks had consistently not shown the rifle shot that struck Boatman.
Humphrey spoke again.
“The Minneapolis police were slaughtered like animals! They didn’t know what they were up against!”
Director Hoover shook his head and replied.
“Senator, all the police departments in the Twin Cities area were notified of Commander Boatman’s visit to the area. The Saint Paul police informed their officers on duty of this. The Minneapolis police did not. So whose fault is this?”
Humphrey was struck silent, Kennedy now spoke up.
“So when will these monsters be disarmed?”
Commander Keller replied with a level voice.
“The citizens are the sovereign authority, those who seek to disarm them are traitors to the nation and should be put to death.”
Kennedy’s face turned red and he shouted in response.
“SHUT UP!”
President Nixon now interjected himself.
“Commander, I believe the senator is referring to your nuclear weapons.”
The planners of the Eagle expedition had no idea if anyone was still alive in the Solar System or how they would respond to a mission from Alpha Centauri. It was assumed that a hostile response was possible and that the expedition should be prepared for it. The Eagle at present carried more nuclear warheads than were in the arsenals of the United Kingdom, France, China, and Israel. Only the United States and Soviet Union outnumbered them in nuclear bombs and warheads.
“It simply won’t happen, sir.” She replied. “And Eagle is presently parked in geosynchronous orbit at about the longitude of Omaha, Nebraska. Our onboard laser batteries are presently providing coverage against a possible Soviet ballistic missile attack on the United States. If a hostile government were to come to power in the United States we would have withdraw our block against Soviet actions.”
What she left unsaid was that if a hostile president were elected it would be a very good idea to not be in Washington on Inauguration Day.
“You are the criminals!” Kennedy shouted.
Commander Keller slightly smiled, looked straight at Kennedy, and then she calmly spoke.
“Speaking of actual criminals, how is Mary Jo?”
Kennedy’s eyes widened. He shouted in response.
“HOW DARE YOU!”
Commander Keller’s eyes lit up as she spoke in response.
“Teddy, a proper government holds it’s elected officers to the highest reasonable standards, and the act of leaving a helpless young woman to slowly suffocate to death is something we treat as a capital crime.”
Well yes, the young woman in question was a Democrat, but a valid law must be applied to everyone without exception.
Kennedy quickly stood up and left the cabinet room.
President Nixon then spoke.
“Senator Humphrey, it appears that this meeting is over.”
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
This is related to my current literary project
On Thursday September 18, 1969, it was time for lunch.
There was a White Castle restaurant on the corner of 4th street and Central Avenue in Minneapolis. It was built at the north end of the parking lot of a strip mall and was one of the prefabricated units in while porcelain and stainless steel that were still in operation on this day. Roughly half an hour after the local noon two men stepped inside. The first was in his early sixties and wore an off the rack grey suit. The second appeared to no older than 14 years old. He wore a custom tailored navy blue suit in the Nehru pattern. The suit jacket was worn loose and unbuttoned with a round silver and glass pin at about the position of the left lapel.
In New York he had been criticized for apparent Third-world style of his choice of attire by a certain little old lady from Leningrad.
“Miss Rand,” he responded with a clearly adult tone of voice, “In spaceflight a necktie is a useless mass and it floats up into the face in free-fall conditions, and I will die before I put on a bow tie.”
The apparently young man also had a short haircut that was more comfortable than fashionable and carried himself as if he were far older.
The apparently younger man spoke to his older companion.
“Do you want anything, John?”
The older man replied with a trace of an educated German accent.
“No sir, go ahead.”
The young man stepped up to the counter and spoke.
“I’ll have four cheeseburgers with catsup and no pickle, fries and a coke please.”
“Yes sir.” The clerk replied.
In the memory of the apparently younger man it had been nearly two centuries since he came to Earth and discovered the White Castle hamburger. He had been born in the primary habitat of Ganymede and had come to Earth for his college education. After the synthetic food he grew up with even the basic slider was a joy to consume.
Even though it was theoretically impossible he and his companions had traveled backwards in time. No one on the crew and science staff aboard the Eagle had any idea how it happened. But now that Evelyn Boatman and his crew were back in 1969 they would have to live with it.
As they waited for the order to come up two Minneapolis Police officers wearing their standard uniform hats entered the restaurant. To John they reminded him of the Secret State Police of the Reich, what was commonly known in his native Germany as the Gestapo. To Boatman they brought forth memories of the stone age sentient reptilian natives of Eden, one of the two habitable planets of the Alpha Centauri system. Vermin who were nearly exterminated by the second wave of Human colonists.
Boatman consciously suppressed the urge to bring out the pistol concealed under his suit jacket.
The senior of the two cops spotted Boatman and spoke.
“Hey kid, why aren’t you in school?”
Boatman turned and calmly replied to the first cop with a clearly adult tone of voice.
“I am not a student.”
John felt it was time for him to speak up to the uniformed thugs.
“Gentlemen, we’re with NASA.”
The second cop turned towards John and growled.
“Shut up!”
The first cop didn’t understand what he saw. What he had identified as the mere teenage boy standing before him should have descended into a visible state of fear. Instead the boy had calmly assumed the position of adult authority.
And even though the boy had a military grade haircut he was still dressed in what the cop had identified as a hippy suit. That made the boy someone he could beat to a pulp without an adverse consequence.
The cop stepped forward and reached to grab the boy with his right hand. He only got off two words before there was a response.
“Listen punk...”
As the cop’s right hand touched the left side on his suit jacket Boatman brought his own right hand down on top of that of the cop. With his left hand he seized the cop’s elbow, spun right with the entire force of his body and pushed forward on the elbow. He could hear the elbow snap. Then with the right hand open he struck the cop with the palm up to the chin of the cop. Boatman could hear the neck of the cop snap.
Boatman then reached back under his jacket drew his pistol and aimed it at the head of the second cop.
The second cop didn’t recognize the weapon as a currently manufactured handgun. He sneered with full rage.
“Use a real gun, punk!”
Boatman pulled the trigger. There was no report of a gunpowder weapon. Only a crack of a projectile moving at slightly above the speed of sound combined with the impact of the projectile upon the head of the thug.
The weapon was manufactured on Zion, the second world colonized in the Alpha Centauri system. It used magnetic force to propel a bullet made of a 2 centimeter core of depleted uranium wrapped in a centimeter sheath of mild steel at slightly above the speed of sound.
The second cop dropped to the floor.
Evelyn Boatman looked up at his companion and spoke.
“Well, that was rude.”
Doctor Johannes Linden reverted to the language of his homeland.
“Ja.”
Boatman then looked over to the manager and staff of the White Castle.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, “I guess we’ll have to skip lunch.”
He then turned back to his companion and spoke.
“Let’s go.”
As then walked back to the rented car Boatman spoke again.
“If I recall correctly there is a Federal building on Third Avenue in downtown, there should be a FBI office there.”
When Central Avenue crossed the Mississippi River it became Third Avenue South. They should find sanctuary from the local cops at the FBI office.
As John pulled the car out of the shopping center’s parking lot Boatman reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a device. He needed to make a call.
There was a White Castle restaurant on the corner of 4th street and Central Avenue in Minneapolis. It was built at the north end of the parking lot of a strip mall and was one of the prefabricated units in while porcelain and stainless steel that were still in operation on this day. Roughly half an hour after the local noon two men stepped inside. The first was in his early sixties and wore an off the rack grey suit. The second appeared to no older than 14 years old. He wore a custom tailored navy blue suit in the Nehru pattern. The suit jacket was worn loose and unbuttoned with a round silver and glass pin at about the position of the left lapel.
In New York he had been criticized for apparent Third-world style of his choice of attire by a certain little old lady from Leningrad.
“Miss Rand,” he responded with a clearly adult tone of voice, “In spaceflight a necktie is a useless mass and it floats up into the face in free-fall conditions, and I will die before I put on a bow tie.”
The apparently young man also had a short haircut that was more comfortable than fashionable and carried himself as if he were far older.
The apparently younger man spoke to his older companion.
“Do you want anything, John?”
The older man replied with a trace of an educated German accent.
“No sir, go ahead.”
The young man stepped up to the counter and spoke.
“I’ll have four cheeseburgers with catsup and no pickle, fries and a coke please.”
“Yes sir.” The clerk replied.
In the memory of the apparently younger man it had been nearly two centuries since he came to Earth and discovered the White Castle hamburger. He had been born in the primary habitat of Ganymede and had come to Earth for his college education. After the synthetic food he grew up with even the basic slider was a joy to consume.
Even though it was theoretically impossible he and his companions had traveled backwards in time. No one on the crew and science staff aboard the Eagle had any idea how it happened. But now that Evelyn Boatman and his crew were back in 1969 they would have to live with it.
As they waited for the order to come up two Minneapolis Police officers wearing their standard uniform hats entered the restaurant. To John they reminded him of the Secret State Police of the Reich, what was commonly known in his native Germany as the Gestapo. To Boatman they brought forth memories of the stone age sentient reptilian natives of Eden, one of the two habitable planets of the Alpha Centauri system. Vermin who were nearly exterminated by the second wave of Human colonists.
Boatman consciously suppressed the urge to bring out the pistol concealed under his suit jacket.
The senior of the two cops spotted Boatman and spoke.
“Hey kid, why aren’t you in school?”
Boatman turned and calmly replied to the first cop with a clearly adult tone of voice.
“I am not a student.”
John felt it was time for him to speak up to the uniformed thugs.
“Gentlemen, we’re with NASA.”
The second cop turned towards John and growled.
“Shut up!”
The first cop didn’t understand what he saw. What he had identified as the mere teenage boy standing before him should have descended into a visible state of fear. Instead the boy had calmly assumed the position of adult authority.
And even though the boy had a military grade haircut he was still dressed in what the cop had identified as a hippy suit. That made the boy someone he could beat to a pulp without an adverse consequence.
The cop stepped forward and reached to grab the boy with his right hand. He only got off two words before there was a response.
“Listen punk...”
As the cop’s right hand touched the left side on his suit jacket Boatman brought his own right hand down on top of that of the cop. With his left hand he seized the cop’s elbow, spun right with the entire force of his body and pushed forward on the elbow. He could hear the elbow snap. Then with the right hand open he struck the cop with the palm up to the chin of the cop. Boatman could hear the neck of the cop snap.
Boatman then reached back under his jacket drew his pistol and aimed it at the head of the second cop.
The second cop didn’t recognize the weapon as a currently manufactured handgun. He sneered with full rage.
“Use a real gun, punk!”
Boatman pulled the trigger. There was no report of a gunpowder weapon. Only a crack of a projectile moving at slightly above the speed of sound combined with the impact of the projectile upon the head of the thug.
The weapon was manufactured on Zion, the second world colonized in the Alpha Centauri system. It used magnetic force to propel a bullet made of a 2 centimeter core of depleted uranium wrapped in a centimeter sheath of mild steel at slightly above the speed of sound.
The second cop dropped to the floor.
Evelyn Boatman looked up at his companion and spoke.
“Well, that was rude.”
Doctor Johannes Linden reverted to the language of his homeland.
“Ja.”
Boatman then looked over to the manager and staff of the White Castle.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, “I guess we’ll have to skip lunch.”
He then turned back to his companion and spoke.
“Let’s go.”
As then walked back to the rented car Boatman spoke again.
“If I recall correctly there is a Federal building on Third Avenue in downtown, there should be a FBI office there.”
When Central Avenue crossed the Mississippi River it became Third Avenue South. They should find sanctuary from the local cops at the FBI office.
As John pulled the car out of the shopping center’s parking lot Boatman reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a device. He needed to make a call.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Trying Something Else
From something I posted on an alternate history site:
“Maria, the Communist Party of the Soviet Union is not a moral authority.”
“Maria, the Communist Party of the Soviet Union is not a moral authority.”
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