Chapter 15 – Jim Croswell
Sitting on a couch in Director Stanwood’s office, the big, gruff and surly Secretary of Defense, Jim Croswell blinked in a shaft of sunlight. “Wow. I just realized something right now, just this moment.”
“What’s that,” Stanwood asked, rising from his desk and crossing to a small office bar where he fixed them glasses of premium scotch.
Stanwood was under no delusion that he would get Jim to move from the couch until he’d said what he had to say.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Croswell smiled.
“Of course it wasn’t,” Stanwood paused. “Well, maybe, it could have been. What are we talking about?” Stanwood poured them both three fingers of scotch and carried the glasses over the table, setting one before Jim and holding his carefully as he took a seat on the opposite couch.
Von Kalt ignored them from across the room, staring out the window.
“Epsilon, I had nothing to do with,” Stanwood said.
Stanwood and Croswell knocked glasses. Scotch also happened to be another area where their tastes overlapped. A common interest, not shared with Dr. Fox, the only other guy they’d known as long, much to Stanwood’s delight.
Croswell gestured toward Von Kalt and raised his drink.
Stanwood shook his head.
“Oh come on,” Croswell objected. “Hey,” Croswell called out.
Von Kalt looked over.
“Fix yourself a drink and come on over here. You’re going to want to hear this one.”
“His majesty just got through saying you’re the defender of secrets.”
“Not your secrets old pal, his. Besides, this isn’t a secret. Not really.”
Von Kalt poured himself a generous measure of the amber alcohol and took one of the several available chairs around the coffee table.
Von Kalt leaned forward, knocked glasses with both Secretary Croswell and Stanwood and took a swallow from his glass.
“Do you know why Joseph here hates Dr. Fox? Because sophomore year, the girl Joe liked wanted Andrew instead. That’s one reason. You see Joe absolutely hates Andy Fox. Who wouldn’t? The kid was cool, you have to give him that, the girls love him; I mean Love him. But they don’t love you, do they Joey?” Croswell laughed, teasing his friend.
“Get to your point, would you?” Stanwood wasn’t offended, only bored.
“Fox was never scared of you. Everyone else was. Even I was.”
“You were never afraid of me,” Stanwood said.
“You have no idea how scary you are.” Croswell raised his drink.
“These compliments, you’re going to make me blush.” Stanwood returned the toast.
“But my point, is Wendell Meyer.”
Stanwood rolled his eyes.
“Back when we were in seventh grade, I think it was still the first or second week of school, and Wendell Meyer was the new kid in our class. He was a year younger than all of us, incredibly smart, but kinda skinny and frail.”
“He was three years younger us,” Stanwood recalled.
“Oh, yes, that’s right, He’d tested up. Smart kid.” Croswell sipped at his scotch. “Well, one day after swimming, Wendell slipped and got trapped under the hydraulic pool cover. We were all back there, watching how it worked, and we got too close.
“Wendell always said he didn’t slip. He claimed that he got pushed, or bumped but that he didn’t know who did it. No one ever saw who did it, and no one ever confessed. Fox and Stanwood had been the two guys closest to him, but we were all there. It could have been any of us, really.
“Fox, he went home from school every day that year, and then spent all summer working on his first invention, his first creation. He came back at the beginning of eighth grade with the Blue Goo. Of course, it was a lot more concentrated back then. But it worked. It worked like magic.
“You see, Wendell was laid up all year, had a grip of pins in his knee. The doctors wanted to replace it all together, but because he was so young, he would have had to have at least two, maybe three more replacement surgeries before twenty-five. A little more pain now would save him a lot more pain in the future, was how his mom figured it. And with major replacements, he’d be ineligible to participate in sports, and even though he was a nerd, she didn’t want to take that away from him.”
“Wait a second, Wendell Meyer? The tennis star?” Von Kalt asked.
“Yep,” Croswell answered.
“He really made his money in ping pong,” Stanwood added.
“Oh yeah, he’s got that Scientific Principles of Ping Pong series, right? He wears that blue wrap on his left knee,” Von Kalt said.
“Yep,” Croswell answered. “The parents eat that shit up.”
Stanwood drained half his scotch.
“And Fox created the Blue Goo for him?” Von Kalt looked into his glass. “Well, there’s your answer, isn’t it?”
“What’s that?” Croswell asked.
“Fox bumped this kid, Wendell, and he created the goo because he felt guilty about it,” Von Kalt said.
Stanwood smiled.
“No,” Croswell said. “That’s not what happened. I suspect that Stanwood here did the bumping, and Wendell knew, didn’t he?”
“Honestly,” Stanwood set his glass on the table. “I don’t know. Sometimes, over the years, I’ve thought maybe it was me. Sometimes I remember that I wasn’t that close to him. It doesn’t matter. We were just kids. I maybe teased him a bit that week, but I never pushed him. Whatever happened, it certainly wasn’t on purpose. My conscience is clear.”
Croswell smiled. “It’s also true that when Fox brought in that huge tub of goo, and we had our little testing session, you didn’t participate. All of us got a king’s ransom in the patent settlement, but you got nothing.”
Stanwood wasn’t ruffled. “I’m not bitter about that either. I’ve done pretty well for myself. I’m not trying to outdo Fox, or you, or any of the guys in our class.”
Stanwood leaned forward and gestured to Jim with his drink. “I need you to think about what I’m about to do and what I’m about to say. Not some ancient history bullshit.
“Fox is Dangerous.
“Epsilon was his screw-up. I had nothing to do with it. If Fox is unwilling to leave Angel City, and every other major metropolitan sector of this country, then he should be forcibly removed. I think he’s a danger to himself and others, period, end of story.
“The Commander in Chief asked me to keep my mouth shut in there today. I am going to do my best to do just that. But before we go in there, and preside over this cluster-fuck, there is one thing I’d like to ask you…
“As you mentioned, I didn’t participate in Fox’s little testing session. But you did. You convinced that lunatic to go steal a sword from the school trophy case and cut your arm off with it.
“From what I understand, being healed with the blue goo permanently stains the scar and the effected skin. For example, Wendell has a discolored blue area he hides under that blue wrap.”
“Are you making a point?” Croswell asked, taking another swallow.
“Well, I’ve recently gotten wind of a technology that can remove those sort of stains, in a rather unique sort of way,”
“Is that a fact?”
“Interested?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Does it ever itch?” Stanwood asked. “I’m told there’s something of an itchy or burning sensation often associated…”
“I’ll give you a burning sensation,” Croswell laughed.
Stanwood turned to Von Kalt, “If Fox gets out of line, the left knee.”
“Yes, sir,” Von Kalt said, finishing his drink.
Croswell laughed, “This is going to be great.”
“I’m not afraid of Andrew,” Stanwood said, finishing his drink.
“It’s Ross you ought to be afraid of,” Croswell said.
“Why should I be afraid of a dead guy?” Stanwood asked.
“Didn’t yo
u hear? No body at the scene. He must have gotten out the back. I’m guessing he’s pissed.”
“There was no out-the-back,” Von Kalt said. “We spent three hours in that hovel. There was one door.”
“I guess you missed it. Fire department found it easy enough.” Croswell set down his glass.
It was almost two-thirds full. In fact, it seemed there was more alcohol left than Stanwood had originally poured into the cup.
Croswell smiled. “Please don’t do anything stupid in there, Joe. Like the President said, if Andrew really can blow up buildings with a thought, lets not set him thinking about it.”
“Okay, you know what, for old times sake, I won’t say a word. I promise, not a word. Let’s just see what happens.” Stanwood extended his hand to shake on it.
Croswell nodded and shook hands with a guy he’d known almost as long as he’d been alive.
“Look at it this way, if Fox blows us up, you can always say you told me so.” Croswell laughed.
Stanwood smiled, “You know I will. And the devil will make me a trustee in no time, and then where will you be? Under my forky-thing, that’s where.”
Stanwood and Croswell laughed as they rose to head out to the waiting transport.
Fox and King returned to their vehicle and hovered above the city until just before noon.
Using the Micronix, Dr. Fox pulled up the children’s’ charts in his mind’s eye. The dedicated satellite found them close to home, running down a canyon path with Jack. The nearby individuals were all children; no adults were present. Fox leaned back into his seat and watched traffic drift around the cruiser.
After all the other incoming parties had arrived, they touched down and secured the craft. King exited behind Fox and invisible, floated above as Fox entered the briefing hall.
A moment later, Fuji Dozo gave the signal for departure. With the hatches sealed and loading ramps disconnected, the facility jettisoned from its docking station.