chapter 4
August 17, 2097
Logan and Asher Grayson sat opposite Mitch’s desk and watched as the superior officer from their sister division flipped through a stack of papers. The curiosity of the two men was piqued. Never had they been called into a meeting with a level seven from the Defence branch, and on a Saturday, no less.
“You two have been selected to participate in an extremely high-risk Defence operation,” said Mitch. He picked up his pen and twirled it around his fingers.
“I’m sorry?” asked Logan. He sat up straighter, certain he had misheard. The brothers looked at each other with matching expressions of surprise.
“As you know, the NRD is having some issues in regard to the AEI robots. We have a plan to resolve it, but it’s complicated. For the most part, this operation is voluntary. Only a few individuals have been hand chosen. You two are specifically required, and I hope you’ll both participate.”
“What could we possibly bring to a Defence operation? We have zero combat training,” said Asher.
“We need you both for several reasons, but mostly because of your familiarity with the AEI Project.”
“Well, I’m with you so far but, I don’t see…” Logan trailed off.
“I’ll explain the operation first, then you’ve got four hours to decide if you are interested in participating,” said Mitch. He elaborated on the plan but stopped when he came to the part that would involve the two brothers. He looked appraisingly at the two men, hoping they could be what he needed. He sighed and continued. “Your role as part of Team Three, is to go back to the year 2095 and help rework the AEI Project as it develops.”
Logan and Asher looked at each other like Mitch was mad, but they both knew better than to interrupt a senior level seven from the Defence branch of the NRD.
“This operation is unlike anything the NRD has ever undertaken before. It is an unprecedented solution to an unprecedented problem. Are you interested in hearing more about what your roles would be?”
The two men nodded.
“Excellent. First off, I know that all you guys on the Research side are airy-fairy about the chain of command, but in Defence, observing rank is what keeps people alive. I need to know that you’ll respect your lead and follow orders without question, no matter who he or she may be, no matter your relationship.”
Both brothers considered this an odd statement and silently wondered who the lead was. Logan suspected a build-up like that meant there was a good chance it was his nightmare of a boss, Delaney Levitt. He shuddered at the thought of a six-month dedicated mission with her and wondered if signing up would be a mistake.
“Sure, I can lead your second team,” said Riley. She sat opposite Mitch’s desk with one leg slung over the chair’s arm. Her flushed face matched the red apple she held, having been pulled from the gym, mid-routine. She bit into the apple as she flipped through the coil-bound document Mitch had given her earlier.
“It’s pretty risky.” Her eyes darted quickly back and forth as she skimmed over the pages. “I mean, from the research you’ve done on him, it seems like if anyone knew the answer, he would. God knows no one else’ll touch Elevanium.”
Mitch nodded. “I know. It’s a real long shot. If he doesn’t know, you guys will have to figure it out on your own.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m no scientist, Mitch.”
“I know, but I need someone I can trust. You’ve never failed me before Rile, and I’m banking on the fact you’re not going to start now. We’ve got a retired researcher from the Dominion Project from back in the fifties and a research assistant from the Liberty Project in ’72 who have agreed to help us. But it’s in a theoretical capacity only. They outright refused to help conduct any experiments. So, it’s all theoretical, and it’s all we’ve got.”
“So what you’re telling me is, after all these years of researching, testing and experimenting with Elevanium, the best that we could get is a guy who worked with it fifty years ago and some research assistant from the seventies? Nobody with any recent experience volunteered to help?”
Mitch shook his head. “Nobody with any relevant, hands-on experience will agree to talk about it, let alone be in the same room as the stuff.”
Riley rolled her eyes.
“Do you work well as part of a team?” asked Mitch.
The pale-faced man stared as if Mitch had asked the question in a foreign language. “Uh, alright, I guess.” He shifted impatiently in his seat.
Mitch jotted some notes on the notepad sitting atop a thick and battered employee file. He looked up at his candidate again. “What motivates you?”
A thin smile grew on the man’s narrow face. “Money, sir. Money motivates me. Speaking of which, what kind of coin are we talking about for an op of this magnitude? And why are we wasting time with these pointless questions? I know you need me because no one with my skills has even applied, so you can save the charade.”
Mitch stared back at the man for whom his dislike grew with every passing minute. It was true. Clint Nelson was right.
Clint continued before Mitch could speak. “I mean, if I go, I’m really getting your asses out of a jam, so what’s in this for me?”
Mitch wanted to reach across his desk and strangle the man, but instead, he smiled and set his pen down. “Your salary will be quadrupled for the six month period you will be away. There’s also a bonus, contingent upon successful completion of the project.”
Clint leaned forward in his chair and eyed Mitch. “How much?”
“This is a very dangerous mission and your lead has told me you’ve gone through a lot lately. Are you sure you can handle the pressure and isolation of this op?” asked Mitch.
Lexi’s frosty gaze made the icy air billowing from the air conditioning vent above Mitch’s desk feel like a warm tropical breeze. The chilly air blowing down on her did nothing to cool the fire his question ignited within her.
“With all due respect, sir, did my lead give you any indication that the quality of my work has been lower than what he’s come to expect from me?”
“No. In fact, he said the opposite, that you’ve been extremely dedicated and putting in more hours than are requested of you.”
“Then I don’t understand the motivation for your question, sir.”
Mitch hesitated. He knew he was dancing close to the line of inappropriate questioning, but he had to be sure that the team he assembled was healthy. Mitch rarely got involved in the personal lives of subordinates, but one weak link with the best of intentions could pose a dangerous threat to the entire team and the mission. With no room for error and no do-overs, he could afford no loose ends.
“This is going to be a long and possibly complicated mission, and I need to make sure that everyone who applies is doing it for the right reasons.”
Lexi looked searchingly at Mitch, mentally daring him to say what he really wanted to. He gave away nothing, so she pressed him. “And what are the wrong reasons?”
“To run away from your problems…”
Shocked by her own daring, Lexi cut him off. “I’m not running away from my problems, sir. My problems are pretty much dealt with. Sure, yeah, a change of scenery would be great, but if you want to know the real reason I volunteered for this, it’s the same reason that I joined the NRD in the first place; because I want to make a difference and make this world a better place. Can you think of a better way of doing that right now?”
“So, you’ve heard the details and you know the stakes. This op is pretty dangerous,” said Mitch, “and I can’t tell you how happy I am that you volunteered for it. Still, I would like to know what motivated you?”
The natural blond highlights in Finn’s copper coloured hair caught the light and glowed. Finn looked thoughtful for a moment. “I love this country, Mitch. What we’re doing here isn’t too different from what we do on a daily basis. I’m doing this to save our country.”
“I love to hear that k
ind of dedication. I wish all people carried that same patriotic spirit,” said Mitch. “Welcome to Operation TimeShift.”
August 19, 2097
Mitch opened the gate and hopped off the otherwise empty speedwalk platform and strode through one of the open aircraft doors of B Hangar. Behind him, he heard the humming of the speedwalk as it zipped away, summoned to some other location on the base. As he entered the cavernous aircraft hangar, he spotted Jake at the back working with some of the new recruits. As he walked toward the back, he took in the buzz of activity around the hangar. Parked in the furthest aircraft bay was an INV-66, an enormous stealth plane that dwarfed everything and everyone around it. The plane shone like the polished chrome rim of a classic car and its semi-circular shape resembled a boomerang with stubby arms. Although its four hydraulic landing pods were set in the down position, the feet of the craft hung at waist height as if the plane was suspended above the ground by an invisible crane. One of the rear legs lay on the ground beneath the aircraft surrounded by tools and other parts of the landing gear. An aircraft mechanic working on the plane stood on a ladder, his top half inside the compartment into which the landing pods retracted during flight. Bay Two appeared empty at first glance, but when Mitch looked again, he saw a pair of legs standing on a ladder that leaned at an unnatural angle. The disembodied legs were visible, however, the portion of the mechanic’s upper body inside the compartment had vanished inside the invisible aircraft. Mitch recognized instantly that, similar to Bay Three, Bay Two also housed an INV-66. Repairs were being made to its invisibility shield. After realizing this, he noticed the moving, holographic orange and black caution band reading, “CAUTION: INVISIBLE CRAFT” that hovered around the rectangular perimeter of the repair bay at waist height.
Mitch walked through the empty Bay One and saw to his left seven white Hummingbirds—small, manoeuvrable crafts modelled after their helicopter predecessors.
Mitch approached Jake and his recruits but hung back, not wanting to interrupt. Mitch knew from personal experience that new hires could be a handful. Desperate to prove themselves but having no real practical knowledge, recruits were like puppies, eager to please but always underfoot. Jake and his three apprentices in their crisp, grey overalls gathered around the open engine compartment of one of the NRD’s armored hover vehicles.
“Now, I know you guys have studied these in school and having solid theoretical knowledge is good, but you won’t learn more than when your hands are dirty. Who can tell me what these vehicles are primarily used for?”
One recruit snapped to attention. “The APHV, or All Purpose Hover Vehicle, is the most commonly used multi-purpose vehicle in the military because it leaves no trace and is completely silent. They’re particularly useful for recon missions because they essentially make no sound while in operation.”
Jake smiled. He liked new recruits. Their energy inspired him in a way the first day of school had when he was a boy. On the flipside, they sucked the life out of him with their errors and constant questions.
Jake looked up and saw Mitch standing by his office door. He backed out from under the hood and waved in acknowledgement. In that fraction of inattention, one of the recruits had grabbed something under the hood and all three leapt back as a blue liquid sprayed across their faces, shoulders and chest. Jake looked back and saw one of the recruits holding in his hand the cap to the primary heat sink coolant reservoir. His apologies were barely audible over the expletives being yelled by the other two.
“I’m sorry! I forgot it’s under pressure!”
“You idiot!” yelled one of the other recruits, wiping the sky blue goo off of his neck with his sleeve.
Jake watched the young men frantically wipe the glowing slime off their faces and necks with any rags they could find, clean or dirty. Seeing their grimy faces made him chuckle. “Okay, I think that’s enough for one day.” The three recruits rushed to the industrial sink, washing their skin until raw.
Mitch chuckled as the recruits cleaned up. “Fresh from the academy?”
“Yeah, about three weeks ago,” said Jake. “Despite what you saw, they’re actually a pretty smart bunch. They’ve got promise.”
Jake knew it was no coincidence that Mitch had appeared in his shop. He thought he had given Mitch his answer by not giving him an answer. Lately, decision by indecision had become Jake’s favoured method of decision-making. Sometimes doing nothing until the urgency had passed was the easiest way to make a decision. Jake closed the hood of the APHV, turned his attention to Mitch and wiped his hands on the faded red rag hanging from a side pocket of his grey work pants.
“I noticed you didn’t get back to me,” said Mitch.
Jake shook his head. “I couldn’t make up my mind.” He tossed the dirty rag into the used rag bin and grabbed a clean one from the neat stack at the back of his workbench. “I’m not really sure of anything these days.”
With his recruits gone, Mitch watched Jake transform from an affable teacher into the withdrawn and depressed man he knew Jake had become. Mitch knew what he had been through over the last several months and felt sympathy for him. “I thought it would help take your mind off of things.”
Jake said nothing and shrugged. He turned to his workbench and began putting his tools away.
Mitch refused to give up without a fight. “You know, it’s not too late. I want you on this op, Jake. I need your expertise for one, and, two, it might give you time to heal. You’ll be off-base and out of the city for six months. The change of scenery might do you some good.” Mitch took a wrench out of Jake’s hand to get his attention. “Jake, you’re one of our best leads and you have a strong mechanical background. You can fix anything, even if you’ve never seen it before. I need that ability.”
Jake looked at Mitch for a moment, unsure of how to respond, then stared at the tools on the workbench and crossed his arms. He knew Mitch was right. He knew a change of scenery was exactly what he needed. It was everything else that came with it that he could do without.
Mitch worried he may be losing ground with Jake and knew a hard sell could push him further away. Jake’s level of motivation and interest in participating in life had become very unpredictable after the accident, but Mitch needed him badly. “You don’t have to answer me right this moment. Why don’t we go for a beer later and I’ll tell you more about the op.”
Jake flipped a roll of electrical tape over in his hands several times and then tossed it onto the workbench. He nodded and looked at Mitch. “Yeah. Alright.”
“What do you mean you’re going to be late again tonight?” barked the exasperated voice of Mitch’s wife from the earpiece in Mitch’s ear.
“Sweetie, you know that I’m desperately trying to get these positions filled. And you know what Jake’s been through. He’s hard to reach right now. I need to take time with him.” He fell heavily into his desk chair and it floated backward and bumped the cabinet behind his desk.
“How about taking time with me for once, instead of…” Her angry voice stopped mid-sentence. Silence rang from his wife’s end of the phone for a long moment. Finally, she spoke and her voice trembled. “Mitch, I’m sorry. I just… I just can’t do this anymore. I’ve spent this entire marriage being the supportive wife while you spend all your time with your true love, work. I thought things were supposed to slow down as you neared retirement so we can start enjoying life. As far as I can tell, the opposite has happened. I never see you and I just can’t do it anymore. I’m taking the kids to my parents for a while.”
“Honey, please. I’m so sorry, but I can’t talk about this now. Can we discuss it when I get home?”
“Mitch, of course you can’t talk now because you’re always busy. I would talk about it with you when you get home, but you don’t get home until I’m asleep, and honestly, I don’t want to be woken up to have this conversation. We’ve talked about this before and you assured me things were going to change. Now with this latest project, you can’t tell me a damn th
ing about it.”
“This isn’t the first classified project that I haven’t been able to tell you about,” said Mitch.
“Mitch, there’s always a project or an emergency op of some kind. I don’t care that it’s classified, but this is the first one that the media is having a field day with. Everybody else seems to know more than me. I want more than this, and I deserve more than what you’re giving me. You’re a great man Mitch, but you’re a horrible husband. I’m sorry.”
“Honey…” Mitch heard the connection die and knew she was gone.
Mitch heaved a heavy sigh and leaned as far back as his chair would allow. He stared hypnotically at the concrete ceiling, playing the events of the day through his mind and wondered if things would ever return to normal.