Intervention: A Science Fiction Adventure (18 page)

BOOK: Intervention: A Science Fiction Adventure
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That’s
it,
he thought in desperation,
I’ll
take some vacation time and go home. Once there, I’ll get this
whole mess sorted out.
That decided, Christopher went into
his bedroom to try to get a few hours of sleep.

“Good morning, Barb.
Could you come into my office, please,” Christopher asked as he
stepped off the elevator on the third floor.

“Certainly. I’ll be
right in,” Barb replied.

“Is everything all
right Christopher? You don’t seem like yourself today,” she said
as she entered his office.

Christopher looked up
at Barb from behind his desk and did something he very rarely did: he
told a little white lie.

“I talked to my
mother yesterday and, well, she’s not feeling very well, so I think
I’ll move up my vacation and go spend some time with her. If you
could, Barb, check my schedule and see if there’s anything that
absolutely can’t wait for a week or two.”

“I’ll check it
right now. It’ll just take a couple of minutes,” Barb replied.

“Thank you Barb,”
Christopher said as Barb left his office for her desk to check his
schedule. Christopher went through his messages from yesterday to see
if there was anything that couldn’t wait. There was nothing
earth-shaking.

Barb came back in.
“Barb, I really hate to ask you this, but would you notify the
necessary department heads for me? I’m just not feeling up to par
right now. I guess I’m just worried about my mother,” he said.

“Certainly,
Christopher. Don’t you worry about a thing. You go take care of
your mother and I’ll take care of everything here. You’ve been
gone before and everything was still here when you got back, wasn’t
it?” she smiled.

“What would I do
without you, Barb?” Barb returned to her desk and a few moments
later Christopher picked up his ringing phone. It was Barb.

“What are you still
doing here?” she asked.

“Well, I thought—”

Barb cut him off. “I’ve
taken care of everything. Now go home.”

“You’re the
greatest, Barb.”

Christopher decided to
drive to his mother’s house. It would be a long drive, but he
wanted to take the time to think things through. It would be long
after dark—as a matter of fact, it would be the middle of the
night—before he would arrive, so he would stop somewhere along the
way and call from a phone booth to let her know he was coming. He
didn’t want to startle her coming in unannounced in the middle of
the night.

Christopher went back
to his apartment to pack the things he would need. He opened his
closet and looked for a moment.
No,
no suits,
he thought, not on this trip. Instead he packed
his suitcases full of blue jeans and flannel shirts. Out of nowhere,
a touch of his father surfaced in Christopher as he thought,
I
don’t want my thought process to be choked by a tie!
He
loaded the bags in the trunk of his dark blue agency sedan and drove
away.

The trip would take all
day and half the night. This did give him time to think, but not the
way he had expected. As he drove through the city heading for the
interstate, Christopher was stopped at a traffic light next to a
schoolyard. Behind the fence, children of all ages were playing in
the morning sun. Some were swinging on a set of swings. Others were
taking turns finding the simplest of joys by sliding down a small
slide. They looked so happy, when suddenly he saw the brilliant flash
of light that could only be produced by an air burst warhead. In the
blink of an eye, the children were all dead. He heard a car horn honk
behind him. He blinked and saw all the children busily playing once
again in the schoolyard. As he pulled away from the light, he could
see the look on Cindy’s face as she told him, “I even found
myself attracted to you. I never would have thought you were the kind
of person that would ever go along with something like this.” It
cut through his heart like a knife. He had wanted too much to tell
her how he really felt, but he just couldn’t—not there with all
the ears he knew must have been listening.

As he continued to
drive through town, he found himself looking at all the people going
about their daily business. He couldn’t help but think what it
would be like for so many people to be gone in a flash. What about
those who didn’t vanish in that instant, who lingered on suffering
horribly for days or even weeks? He couldn’t wait to get on the
interstate.

Getting on the freeway
seemed to clear his head a little. His thoughts turned to home and
seeing his mother. He felt that somehow, without saying a word, she
would help him figure out what it was he had to do. Hours went by
slowly as he drove ever closer to home. He had never made the trip
entirely by car before, and it was more tedious than he had expected.
He was more than ready for a break when he stopped for a bite to eat.
He had seen a sign along the side of the interstate for an
old-fashioned drive-in restaurant. He liked the idea, thinking it
might take him back to a simpler time, if only for a short while. He
thought any rest he could give his mind right now would help.

He seemed to relax a
little as he sat parked next to a menu with a speaker placed at the
bottom where a voice would soon ask him for his order. Christopher
thought he should get into the spirit of things and ordered a
foot-long hot dog, French fries, and a chocolate malt. He was feeling
a bit better when a smiling young girl brought a tray to his open
window containing the items he had ordered.

“Could you roll your
window up about five or six inches, please?” the girl asked nicely.
As he complied, she placed the tray on the car hanging from the
window. “That will be three twenty-seven,” she said.

He handed her a five
dollar bill and said, “Keep the change.”

“Thank you. Enjoy
your meal.” The young girl quickly disappeared.
Stopping
here was a good idea
, he thought as he finished his meal.
He causally crept back into his mind, and he wondered what it would
be like to be sitting here enjoying a nice meal and suddenly have the
skies around him light up in all directions with multiple air bursts.
To cease to exist in a brief flash, or worse still, to survive the
initial blasts, and try to answer the question, why?

Back on the interstate,
his thoughts turned to home. He looked forward to his arrival and to
seeing his mother more than ever before. Several hours of driving had
passed since he had stopped for lunch at the little drive-in. The sun
was nearing the horizon when, while stopped to refuel his car, he
decided it was time to make that call to his mother. He pulled out
his cell phone and pushed a few buttons. After a few rings, his
mother picked up.

“Hello?” His
mother’s voice never sounded so good to him.

“Hello, Mom. Listen,
I decided to move up my vacation time a little.”

“When will you be
coming then?” Mary asked.

“Actually I’m on my
way there right now. I decided to drive for a change, instead of fly.
I’m still about six or seven hours away, so I thought I had better
give you a call so I didn’t startle you when I came in.”

“Is everything all
right?”

“Sure, everything’s
fine, Mom. It’s going to be late when I get there, so don’t wait
up.”

He knew better, but
still said it anyway. He would find his mother on the sofa in the
living room with the glowing red embers of a once roaring fire still
warming the room. No matter what he told her, she would be waiting
up.

“Are you sure
everything’s all right? You don’t quite sound like yourself.”
Mary asked with concern in her voice.

“I just have a lot of
things on my mind, Mom. I think it will do me a world of good to take
a break and came home for a while. I’ll see you in a few hours,
okay? I love you, Mom. Bye.”

It had been dark for
several hours when Christopher decided to leave the interstate in
favor of a rural shortcut he had found on the map. It was only a
two-lane blacktop winding through the countryside, but it was the
shortest route to his mother’s house, saving many miles. Besides,
the never-ending interstate was becoming a little bit monotonous to
say the least. The road curved and winded passing through several
small towns along the way. All the things he tried not to think about
flooded their way back into his thoughts: Operation Down-size,
Cindy’s sudden dislike of him. Try as he may, once again he
couldn’t get his mind off the day before. Suddenly there was a red
flashing light behind him.
If
he’s in that much of a hurry, why doesn’t he just go around me?
He thought. Then a short burst of noise for a siren.
Oh,
no. I’m being pulled over by the police
, Christopher
realized and pulled off to the side of the road and stopped.

There was a first time
for everything and this was a first for Christopher. A man in uniform
was suddenly standing outside his window knocking on the window.
“Sir, could you roll your window down, please,” the officer said
coldly. “I need to see your license and registration, please.”

Christopher handed over
the requested documents. “Did I do anything wrong, Officer?” he
inquired.

“You were going fifty
miles an hour in a zone clearly posted for thirty-five.”

“The last speed sign
I saw was for fifty.”

“You’re coming into
a small town just around the bend. The speed limit was reduced to
thirty-five about a mile back.”

“I must not have seen
the sign. I have a lot on my mind. I’m sorry. I’m really a safe
driver. I’ve never had a ticket before.”

“Just because you’re
a government employee driving a car with a government tag on it
doesn’t mean you can speed through our town here.”

“I understand,
Officer, and I am sorry. It wasn’t intentional. I am a little
pressed for time, so, if you’ll just give me the ticket, I promise
to be more careful.”

“That might be how
you do things in the city, but I’m afraid we do things a little
differently around here. You’re going to have to follow me to the
court in town and see the judge. If you’re nice about it, he may
let you post a bond for your release.” Christopher didn’t have
the time for some backwoods judicial system to flex its muscles. This
could take hours, and his mother would be getting worried.
Christopher decided to do something he had never done before. He
reached into his pocket and pulled out his agency identification.

“I’m afraid I can’t
oblige you, Officer. I’m with the CIA and this is a matter of
national security.” The officer’s face grew long, not being used
to being outranked by someone he’d pulled over. “Should have just
given me the ticket,” Christopher said and drove off leaving the
small town deputy standing on the side of the road with his jaw
hanging.

It felt more than good
when Christopher finally turned off the road and crossed over that
little wooden bridge that told him he was home. He wasn’t at all
surprised to see the lights on. He knew no matter what time he
arrived, his mother would be up waiting. As he pulled up to the house
and parked the car, Mary opened the front door and stood in the
doorway, just as she had most of her life whenever Joe had come home.

Christopher took his
bag from the trunk and walked up the steps onto the porch, set his
bag down, and gave his mother a big long hug. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, Christopher.
Come on in and get warm. It’s a little chilly out here.” Once
inside Mary looked at her son and said, “You look exhausted. That’s
a long drive. I’ve got your bed turned down for you. Why don’t
you get some sleep and you can tell me in the morning why you’re
really here.” She always could see the reality of a situation.

“Good idea, Mom.”
Christopher gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“Sleep well, son.”

* * *

If the smell of bacon
and eggs on the stove hadn’t found its way upstairs into
Christopher’s room, he would have probably slept for several more
hours. He had been totally exhausted and needed the sleep he had
gotten.

“I hope I didn’t
wake you rattling the pots and pans down here,” Mary said with a
big innocent smile. Christopher just smiled knowing the smell of
breakfast on the stove was meant to wake him.

“I didn’t hear a
thing,” he replied. “Ten o’clock? Wow, I didn’t realize I was
that tired.”

“I was beginning to
think you might sleep all day. Sit down. I’ll fix you a plate.”
Mary filled a plate with bacon, eggs, sausage, and some buttered
toast next to a pile of hash browns. She poured a big glass of orange
juice and put it on the table next to his plate. Mary patiently
sipped on a cup of tea while Christopher ate.

When he was nearly
finished, she asked, “Would you like to tell me what’s wrong? I
could hear it in your voice when you called yesterday.”

There was a momentary
silence. Christopher took the last sip of orange juice, put the glass
down on the table in front of him. “I met a girl the other day.”

“That’s wonderful,
Christopher. I understand now why you’re not yourself. Tell me all
about her.”

“It’s more than
that, Mom. I’ve a real problem to work out. That’s why I came
here, so I could clear my head to think.”

Mary smiled. “She
must have really gotten to you. I was beginning to think there wasn’t
a girl out there that was sharp enough to catch your eye. She must be
really something.”

“Yes, she is. I wish
I could tell you everything, Mom, but it’s classified.”

“She isn’t
classified, is she?”

“Of course not. Well
her name is Cindy. She’s very attractive, and she’s an astronaut.
Her field is microbiology. She’ll be going up as a mission
specialist aboard the shuttle Columbia in two or three weeks.”

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