Project J (23 page)

“Do they?
 
If we were to tell all we know as of right now, what would the results be?
 
Praise by the scientific community?
 
Perhaps.
 
But what about the average man?
 
Or the average believer?
 
Remember, so far we have no proof of any degree of divinity.”

Tamara was silent for a long time, as Myers sipped his coffee and looked at her over the top of his cup.

“There are those,” she said carefully, “who would want to stone us, to use a Biblical method of expressing disagreement.”

“Quite right, Tamara.”

“And a lot of atheists who would shout halleluiah that they are proven correct.”
 
She shook her head.
 
“We could release the news with a full disclaimer that this may not be the correct interpretation of the results.”

“Then both sides will be after our hides!”

“But this is simply too big to sit on!” she protested.

Myers looked around at all the reference books and other material in his office, and sighed.
 
“Two things, Tamara,” he said. “First, I am taking notes.
 
One day I may be able to write a book about this.

“Secondly, I’m glad that the decision is not mine to make.”

Chapter 40:
 
Subpoenaed

The decision to tell the world about the Machine and their distinguished guest was not made by them after all.
 
Dr. Stryker was late for a meeting with the Project J staff but, just as someone was about to go look for him, he arrived, face flushed and breathing hard.

“Damn!” he announced heatedly.
 
Some eyebrows went up.
 
“Damned Congress!
 
Damn Stockman!”

Those who knew him were silent, allowing him to blow off steam.
 
They knew that he would get down to business soon enough.

“I have just gotten a summons to appear before the House Committee on Science, Space and Technology to explain new stories about our project.”

“What!” exclaimed Dr. Crane.

“It’s Stockman!
 
He’s gotten some new information – or so he says – about our project and wants to immediately question us about it.”

“I thought we covered our tracks with by saying that we were only cloning animals,” said Dr. Fielding.
 
“We showed them a few animals and that put an end to the rumors.”

“Apparently not.
 
He was positively gloating when he told me on the video feed that he had new evidence.
 
He was none too polite about it, either.”

Fielding spoke up, “Do you think he knows about the Machine?”

“Maybe.
 
Maybe not.
 
But he knows something.”
 
Stryker was calming down but still quite angry.
 
“I hope not all the facts,” he said with feeling.

“It would be nice to know what his evidence is,” said Crane.
 
“Then you could prepare a story.”

That set off a not-too-productive discussion of who might be leaking information.
 
When that subject had been beaten into the ground with no resolution, the topic switched to what to do next.

“Just refuse to go.
 
What can he do?” was Crane’s immediate input.

“Well, for one thing he can hold Chronodyne, and probably myself personally, in Contempt of Congress.
 
And we don’t need that kind of publicity.
 
What would the stockholders say?”

“Well,” said Crane, “that would at least buy us some time.”

“To do what?” Stryker growled.
 
“We can’t very well hide the whole project!”

“Why not simply announce the project openly and beat Congress to the punch?” asked Juliette.

There was silence following that suggestion, but from the looks on faces, it was obvious that the idea was appalling to some, just as it was hopeful to others.

“We will have to do that sooner or later,” Fielding added.
 
“We’ve known that from the start.
 
We just didn’t want to make any claims until we proved the theory as valid.
 
Well, we have certainly done that.”

Juliette nodded agreement.
 
“I’m for that.
 
Boy, would that make the scientific world pay attention!”

“Which is just what we don’t want.”
 
Stryker glared at her.

“Maybe we could announce just a part of the overall project,” suggested Buerer.
 
“Just the artifacts, maybe?”

Stryker shook his head.
 
“And then someone will remember that we claimed to have cloned extinct animals and put two and two together.
 
Soon, Congress, the press and everyone else will want to know what else we’ve recreated from the past.”

Fielding immediately said, “So we tell all.
 
You do agree that eventually that will have to come to pass.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that major funding for this project came from the government via contracts with DOD and other agencies.
 
And when you deal in secrets with the government, you have to deal with the CIA, NSA, DNI and others.
 
Probably the FBI and Cub Scouts, too.
 
We go public, they’ll be having conniption fits.”

The discussion quickly evolved into a battle of the stay-secret group against the go-public group, with the arguments becoming heated at times.
 
Tamara, who had simply followed Juliette into the meeting despite the fact that she was not even a Chronodyne employee, could see both sides.
 
She was familiar with security agencies and their attitude that nothing – absolutely nothing – Is more important than their work.
 
On the other hand, she could sympathize with the scientists who wanted their incredibly important work announced to the world.
 
This project was their baby, and none of them wanted it buried under a cover of secrecy forever.

When the discussion reached a point where everyone had paused to take a breath, Dr. Myers made a point.
 
“Gentlemen, and ladies, may I suggest that, if you decide to make any public announcement, please do not include Jesus.
 
He had enough of a shock when someone slipped that tablet to him.
 
He does not need to suddenly be the focus of attention for the whole world.
 
He just could not handle that.”

For the first time since the debate began, all sides agreed on something: Jesus should be protected from the harsh spotlight that would be turned on him.
 
And, of course, from their being criticized for having created him in the first place.

The security head, who had not taken part so far, finally put in his view.
 
“I don’t think the decision will be ours to make.”
 
He looked around the table.
 
“We know for a fact that others outside this project know of his existence.
 
Someone gave him that tablet.
 
And there was that gang who came blasting in and tried to assassinate him.
 
Someone leaked information to that Congressman before.

“I fear the secret is out.
 
Enough people know it, at least enough to assure that it will not stay secret for very long.”

No one could argue with that point.

“I will call a meeting of all department heads tomorrow,” Stryker told them.
 
“I want input from the others concerning how a public announcement would affect their researches.
 
Nine o’clock tomorrow.”

With that, he stood and left a stunned group of scientists unable to decide if they were happy or afraid of the imminent disclosure of their work.

Chapter 41:
 
Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Tamara was normally an early riser.
 
The next morning was no exception; she was up with the sun.
 
It had rained during the night and the air was exceptionally clear and fresh.
 
She recalled Dr. Myers saying that Jesus normally took his breakfast in the courtyard, weather permitting.
 
Picking up a breakfast tray as soon as the cafeteria opened, she carried it over to Project J’s building.
 
She noted the increased security and was grateful for that.
 
The attempt on Jesus’ life had shaken her up.

Her badge was enough to get her inside.
 
The staff of Project Dry Wells, from Stryker on down, was grateful to her for her brave action in defending Jesus from the terrorists.
 
It gave her pretty much open access to Project J, and probably any of the others, should she wish.

Jesus had just sat down to breakfast himself.
 
He smiled as she came up.
 
She noticed that he did not stand up at her approach, but then the custom of a gentlemen standing for a lady was probably not a part of his culture.
 
She sat down, and noticed that Dr. Myers was not there.
 
She was not used to seeing Jesus without Dr. Myers also present.
 
For one thing, he was the only other person, other than Jesus, who spoke Aramaic.

She was a bit at a loss as to what to say.
 
Did he understand any English?
 
She started with the only Aramaic she remembered: “Shelama.”
 
He smiled and returned the greeting, adding a couple words she did not know.
 
Then she tried, “It is a beautiful morning,” waving her hand at the clear blue sky.
 
Jesus looked up and nodded.
 
Maybe he did not understand the words but the meaning came across.

They ate pretty much in silence, but it was a friendly silence, the kind you share with someone you know well.
 
Although that might not be true in this case, she did feel a strong affection for Jesus.
 
Partly because of how much the man had gone through, but also because she sensed a power within him, a power to influence people.
 
And maybe something more.
 
There was no question that he had a strong belief system, and that gave him a quiet air of self-confidence.

As she was trying to think of something to say, Dr. Myers walked into the courtyard.
 
Leaning on his cane, he made his way to the table.
 
“Shelama, rabbi,” he said.
 
He must have been expected, for there was a plate set for him, including a carafe of coffee that he immediately poured into a cup.
 
There was no coffee set for Jesus.

“And to what do we own this visit, Tamara?” Myers asked after taking his first sip.

“Just wanted to see Jesus again,” she replied.
 
“There’s about an hour and a half before that general meeting.
 
Seemed like a good time to check up on our guest.”

Myers did not translate but Jesus looked on, apparently knowing that they were talking about him.

“Why don’t you ask him if he would like to take a little walk after breakfast?
 
It’s a nice day for it.”

Myers translated, and Jesus smiled at her.
 
She liked the way he smiled.
 
Too bad he did not do it more often.
 
Which led her to thinking about his condition.
 
“Walking doesn’t hurt him too much, does it?” she asked.

“No.
 
His back is almost healed and his legs have pretty much recovered from the abuse.
 
He says that walking is good.
 
I think it’s mostly because it gets him out of the building.
 
He really does want to see the outside world.”

“I’m sure he does.
 
We just have to do a little bit at a time.”

“Quite right.
 
Don’t want too much culture shock, do we?”

Tamara waited until Jesus was finished before she rose from the chair.
 
“I’ll just walk around the building.
 
Won’t go far.”

“The only danger is from the staff of the other projects.
 
They know about him but most have not seen him yet.
 
You might find him becoming the center of attraction.”

“I’ll be careful.”

They walked towards the door, Dr. Myers staying behind to finish his coffee.
 
She told the guard where she was taking him and they left the building.
 
It was a most beautiful morning, really.
 
The mountains stood out with unusual clarity.
 
Jesus looked at them as he walked, leading Tamara to wonder if he had seen any really tall mountains in his life?
 
Mountains big enough to have snow most of the year.
 
Did they have any that tall in Palestine?

Would he like to see the Rockies?

A car drove by on one of the internal roads, and then slowed down opposite them while the driver stared out the window at Jesus and Tamara.
 
Was he looking at Jesus or me, she wondered?
 
She was good looking enough to attract men’s glances.
 
But more likely it was the noted historical figure beside her that drew the driver’s attention.

Jesus watched the car drive away, and stopped.
 
Turning to Tamara, he pointed to her, then himself, then the moving car.

“You want to take another drive!” she told him.
 
“I don’t see why not.
 
I guess you would be fascinated with driving.
 
I’ll have to ask Dr. Myers to borrow his car again.”

All the time she talked, Jesus just smiled and watched her as if he understood every word.
 
Tamara was about to head back towards the entrance when an idea struck her.
 
She smiled at him and said, “Want to do a little joy riding?
 
Come on!”

She led him across the road, along another building and down a street until they came to the apartment building.
 
There, in the parking lot besides the building, was her bright blue Corvette, all clean from the overnight rain.
 
She unlocked the doors and waved him into the passenger seat.
 
“Stryker will probably kill me, but you deserve to experience a real car.
 
Let me show you how to attached the seatbelt.”

Jesus did not seem to understand why he had to be strapped into the seat, but he trusted Tamara, especially when he saw that she also put on the straps.

She started the motor, and Jesus was apparently impressed with the throaty growl of the big V-8 engine.
 
That, or it scared him.

She backed out gently, and then pointed its nose along a straight section of the street.
 
“Did you know this car can go from zero to sixty in three point eight seconds?” she asked him.
 
A puzzled smile was all he showed.
 
“I will demonstrate.”

With the skill most women do not have, she put the big sports cars through its paces, starting with a demonstration of how to place a patch of rubber on the pavement.
 
Jesus grabbed the dashboard with both hands and looked rather frightened.
 
She had to slow down because the street was not nearly long enough to let the car really stretch its legs.
 
She had not even gotten beyond fourth gear and still had another two to go.

“Man, what a rush!” she gushed, then turned to see if she had overdone it with her innocent passenger.
 
But she need not have worried.
 
He might have been scared at first, but the thrill of that kind of acceleration is universal.
 
All humans find it exciting.
 
He was still clutching the dash, but he was smiling.

Continuing in the same mode, she demonstrated how well the car can corner, taking some of the turns on the Dry Wells road system at speeds far beyond anyone had envisioned.
 
She swerved around a delivery truck and deliberately headed towards the parking lot before the main office building.
 
It was the only patch of pavement large enough to do what she wanted.
 
Whipping the car into the mostly empty parking lot, she snapped the steering wheel around and demonstrated a nice sideward skid.

“We’ll have to find some good curves,” she told him, “so I can show you drift racing.”

Jesus just nodded, and kept on smiling.

One more circuit of the facility, drawing attention of most of the Chronodyne employees as she squealed the wheels and made the car growl nicely, then a last quick dash down the single long straight way.
 
Demurely, she parked the beast and patted the steering wheel.

“They’ll probably kick me out of here, but I thought you should have a little fun.”

Dr. Stryker was waiting for them when they got back to the Project J building.
 
She had never seen his face such a lovely shade of red before.

“Miss Graves,” he said through clenched teeth.
 
“Are you aware that the speed limit on company roads is twenty miles per hour?”

“Oh, sorry.
 
The speed signs went by too fast to read.”
 
She smiled at him.
 
‘Sometimes a conservative, staid, prim and proper auditor just has to let go,’ she told herself.
 
‘Besides, Jesus liked it!’

“You were endangering the staff, not to mention Chronodyne property,” Stryker continued.

“Before you get all steamed up, no one was in danger,” she informed him.
 
“I’ve raced that car in Autocross and other amateur racing formats.
 
I was in perfect control at all times.

“If you want to kick me out, fine, but look at Jesus.
 
He loved it!”

Her statement was obvious.
 
Stryker, and probably no one else, had ever seen or even imagined Jesus grinning from ear to ear.
 
Apparently sensing that she was being admonished for what she did, he reached over and took Tamara’s hand, and lifting it up to his lips, he kissed it.

That cannot be ancient Jewish protocol, she told herself.
 
But it is sort of universal.
 
Besides, she was pleased with it.
 
At least the ancient Jew had gotten his approval across to Stryker.
 
Still fuming, the Projector Director stomped away.

Behind them, Myers laughed, trying to keep it in so that Stryker would not hear.
 
“Oh, girl, you really stuck it to him!
 
Magnificent!
 
But have you really raced that car on a track?”

“Oh, yes.
 
As often as I can.
 
It’s fun!
 
I’ll take you for a ride sometime.”

“No thank you, Miss.
 
My heart couldn’t take it.”
 
Then he surprised her by taking her other hand, lifting it and kissing it.

Having her hand kissed twice in one morning!
 
‘Pretty good work,’ she told herself.