Kill Them Wherever You Find Them (10 page)

"You may be on to sumthin'. I wondah if he’s
one of those French fairies. They refuse to take sides in the War
Between the States, but have considerable economic dealin' with the
Confederacy. Keep me informed doctah."

"Just one more thing before you go,
Major."

"What would that be doctah?"

"His teeth."

"They look fine to me, what’s the
problem?"

"That
is
the problem sir. They are
too
fine.
Too
white. At his age, which I reckon to be
in his thirties he should be missing some, if not many, of his
teeth. At the very least they can't be this white, without any of
chips or wear. Yet they appear to all be there, in pristine
condition – which is impossible. Finally, as I tried to get water
down him a tooth fell out, but it wasn’t a tooth. It looks real,
sure enough, but it is attached to something – some kind of
material I have never seen before. When inserted in his mouth it
fits perfectly, the tooth goes back into place as if natural. Now
look at these patches of something inside the teeth; the color
matches just fine. I almost missed them at first. The material is
more like that used in a china bowl. No accounting for that at all
– who would put that in their teeth? It isn’t natural sir."

"What ah ya’ sayin’, doctah. Some kind of
witchcraft?"

"As a man of science I can't subscribe to
such a conclusion. Danged if I have any idea what my conclusion
should
be. There is nothing, and I do mean
nothing
,
in any medical text that I have ever read to account for this. Old
Commander Huckabee has the best, most modern, wooden dentures
available. Not that he wears them much, mind you. Nothing I know of
in the world can account for this man’s false tooth. It looks and
feels too much like a real tooth for me to explain. I’ll be danged
if I know what that material is that it’s attached to, or how to
explain the patches of the strange material in other teeth. Between
the false tooth with the strange material, the unusual patches in
other teeth, and their overall pristine condition, my medical
opinion is that this man can't really exist – yet here he is."

"Don’t get too anxious now, doctah. Jus do
yur job and fix him up. Soon as we can question him, we’ll have
owah ansahs."

"One final matter Major, it appears that I'll
have to amputate his leg. The infection is spreading and will most
likely kill him before morning light if I don’t."

"Do what you must, just don’t let him die,
doctah. I want the hangman’s noose to do that job."

~ ~ ~

The whistle!

Recess is over. I'm at once both glad and a
little sad by that fact. Normally I would want to stay outside. A
couple of times I have missed going back into the classroom with
the others, being so focused on bees in the flowers of clover that
I didn't hear the bell. On both occasions, it didn't take long for
my teacher to go back outside to locate me, holding my hand to walk
with me back into the room. The first time she seemed afraid when I
wasn't in the room with the others, though she expressed no anger
with me when she found me on the playground. The second time she
seemed amused while firmly reiterating that I have to pay more
attention to the bell. Now she simply makes sure I'm standing in
line with the other children before we return to our classroom.

Going back to our room from recess I know
that very soon the assistant from the cafeteria is scheduled to
bring in a food cart with our cartons of milk and something to eat
for a snack. Then it will finally be time for a nap!

Sometimes our teacher also falls asleep at
her desk during our nap. We usually wake up before she so she
awakens to the sound of muted giggles. She smiles at such times.
Really, she smiles with generous frequency. Her gentle and
unassuming nature bespeaks such warmth that envelopes the entire
room with a kindness that radiates from her very being.

Everybody is awake now. I think I slept but
I'm not certain as I'm still so groggy. If I did get any sleep it
wasn't restful in the least. I'm just so exhausted. When I get home
I'll ask mom if I can go to bed. That will, without a doubt, shock
her silly! Usually I make a mad dash with my stuffed bear who I
creatively named "Bear" to the back yard to play. I'm so tired now
that the very thought of playing seems to actually exhaust me even
more.

Maybe I didn’t sleep because my leg is
burning. How can my leg be so hot and not spontaneously combust
like the cartoon about the Phoenix I saw on television? Those
horrible, wretched fire ants! Every time I feel their sting I vow
to myself to avoid them, but the next day I can't help but to
forgive, forget, and crouch once again over these characters to
amuse myself with their orderly society. I know I'm not supposed to
be near these ants, my mother told me to stay away from them. I
feel badly about disobeying her, but not so badly as to change my
ways. When I'm old enough to go to Confession I'll tell the Priest,
probably say some prayers to be forgiven.

~ ~ ~

Female and Male Voices:

"Doctor, we really must evacuate now. The
Union soldiers are closing in on Richmond, imminent attack in our
area is feared within two hours. The Yanks lit fire to the fields
west of us. Several structures, including homes, are engulfed in
flames. Captain Thomas Jackson has ordered more troops but it looks
like they won't arrive in time. President Davis has already left
for Manassas."

"Thank you nurse, I'm finishing the closing
of the wound now. It looks like we caught the gangrene just in
time, avoiding amputation of the leg. Our prisoner should be ready
for transport within the hour. I would not want to be him when he
comes around. No tinctures for him nurse, and no spirits to drink
for the pain. We barely have enough for our own boys as it is."

~ ~ ~

Is it nighttime already? I feel a cool sheet
covering my body up to my shoulders. I sense a welcoming haze
hovering just above total unconsciousness which has started to
obscure my already fragmented thoughts. Did mom give me cough
medicine? I feel so much better. That must be it, I'm sick and have
been given a strong cough medicine to ease me to sleep. My leg
hurts like the devil, but the burning has abated. I think I should
be able to get some sleep now.

Abraham Lincoln is kind and good,

His honor and love for many.

To help us remember this president,

We put his face on our penny!

Table of Contents

7. First to Zion

"If we could travel into the past, it's
mind-boggling what would be possible. . . . I have no idea whether
it's possible, but it's certainly worth exploring."-
Carl
Sagan, NOVA interview, 12 October 1999

Near Rishon L'Tzion, State of
Israel

Before the meeting with
Lt. General Ashkelon,
Doctor No'am Abrams and his team at Technion University had already
made great strides in the study of singularities and Quantum
Entanglement, as well as the relatively new and exciting protocol
called "Quantum Teleportation." The quantum disciplines seemed to
be, in fact, the new science de rigueur for many physicists,
especially those with a Particle Physics background.

Such were the strides that had been made by
his team that when he went to work in the ultra-modern facility for
quantum research with
The Project
, he felt like a child in a
candy store. Each day he thanked HaShem for His blessings. He was
thrilled with the knowledge that the thing he loved most, other
than his cat Vivien and his aloof and often mysterious girlfriend
Mona, was also a critical component to the security and future of
his adopted country. He immigrated to the State of Israel from his
birth country of Argentina, never once looking back though
sometimes missing the Argentine culture and laid-back
lifestyle.

No'am went on a blind date with a very
accomplished surgeon, also from Argentina, hoping to make a
connection with an ex-patriot. He found that he enjoyed time with
his cat more than this gal, who was only too happy to talk about
herself the entire time! She insisted on exchanging phone numbers;
he finally relented, incredulous that she didn't see his reluctance
as a sign that there would be no second date. He didn't call her
and, thankfully, she had just barely enough common sense to not
contact him.

No'am received clearance for his team of four
other physicists and two assistants to join him. Administrative and
clerical staff would be already in place. It felt good to have
tried-and-true team members with him rather than dealing with the
personalities and learning curves of people he didn't already know.
Two were not allowed to remain with him - assistants he had worked
with for some time. He regretted not being able to include them on
the team, but they were rejected for reasons of national security.
No'am didn't question the decision to exclude them for two reasons:
One, It really didn't matter, nothing he could say would change the
minds of those doing the background and psychological checks. Two,
he wouldn't have received a straight answer anyway.

In the case of one assistant he knew that he
was having steep financial problems. Fond of gambling, this didn't
really come as a surprise. The gambling would sound multiple alarms
as such a person could be easily compromised with money, or at
least the promise of money. The other assistant came as a surprise.
No'am always thought of him as the proverbial straight arrow.
Happily married, financially secure, born in Israel – as were the
man's parents. He had no addiction issues that No'am knew of, and
was only a social drinker who would have the same drink in his hand
the entire evening of a party or university event. While he felt
some initial curiosity about this rejection the work itself quickly
reacquired and focused his complete attention.

The State of Israel, in its current borders
is very small. As a comparison, the state of California is twenty
times the size of the State of Israel, including the disputed West
Bank and Gaza Strip, making any paper peace treaty with the
Palestinians based on pre-1967 borders at once unrealistic and
unattainable; something which the PLO and Hamas leaderships knew
full well. Before his time in National Service for the military, he
hitchhiked and walked his way around the country, exploring every
nook and cranny.

His backpack consisted more of books than
anything else. He was a dyed-in-the wool geek. He also had a laptop
for his studies and ongoing physics research as an online
collaboration with several others during his travels. He hefted
that backpack library pretty much everywhere, even exploring the
streets of the Palestinian Territories. His Arabic was so flawless
that he could easily pass as a Palestinian, as long as nobody
glanced at the Hebrew-language books in his backpack.

Given his knowledge of the topography and
geography of Israel, he divined correctly his facility to be only
about 10 kilometers away from Rishon L'Tzion, an early Jewish farm
settlement founded by European immigrants in 1882, located about 12
kilometers south of Tel-Aviv. The unique and aromatic smells coming
from the Carmel Winery, an old landmark in Rishon L'Tzion, was
unmistakable. No'am caught the scent of the winery as the shayroot
whisked him to his destination.

Given the time from when he smelled the
winery - knowing the direction of the prevailing winds that day -
to the time he arrived at his facility, he had a fairly good idea
of the facility's location. Not that it mattered, he'd never share
this knowledge with anybody else for their own protection and the
sake of his job. The facility was several stories below ground
level. It had all of the creature comforts one would want, even
though his cat wasn't allowed into the facility during his
stay.

This home-away-from-home was still not home.
No'am could only hope his neighbor would remember to take care of
his young fruit trees and grape vines, and tend to his cat while
away "in Canada and the United States as a guest professor and
touring lecturer" for two, maybe three years. He did plan on
occasional return trips to Israel, but they would be sporadic.

He missed little things like on-demand
Internet access and texting friends on his mobile phone. He told
them in advance that he would still send them messages, but
irregularly as he would be so busy with lectures, research, and a
social life while in North America.

Other little things, too, reminded him that
this wasn't really a place where he'd want to permanently hang his
hat. Yet all of this paled in comparison with his first joy in
life, his work. The quantum world was usually his first thought in
the morning and his last thought at night. If only he could find a
woman with an equal or better I.Q. and similar interest in Quantum
Mechanics. Well, truth be told, he knew of maybe ten who would
qualify under just those two standards. They were all either too
old, too young, or too married. He always had a ready reason for
rejection even before the next potential female companion could
utter her first word.

Timidity with women notwithstanding, he met a
woman during his travels throughout his adopted country shortly
before being accepted in a teach-work program with the Physics
department at Technion U.

In fact, she came into his life just a week
after he submitted his application. These many years later they
were still best of friends with an off-and-on romance that never
quite seemed to get off the ground and lead toward marriage. She
was worth it.

While Mona wasn't quite the energetic youth
she had been when they first met, she still carried herself
admirably well and kept in good shape. Additionally she had an
impressive command of his physics vocabulary, fully understanding
him when he'd get off on a tangent about the possibilities and uses
of quantum mechanics. Her family immigrated to Israel from the
Islamic Republic of Iran in the early 1980's when she was ten years
of age. One could still detect a slight Farsi accent when she
spoke.