Harbinger (The Janus Harbinger Book 1)

by Olan Thorensen

  “Can I think about this?” Jill said.

  “Think about it until the FBI agents outside the door get tired of waiting,” Zach answered roughly. “I’m sorry, but for whatever reason, there is a very short timeline on this entire matter. We need your decision right now.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that I really have no choice at all?” Jill answered angrily.

  Marjek responded in a sharp tone. “You are in a tough situation, but the choice is being smart or being stupid.”

  “Don’t I even get to talk to a lawyer about this?”

  “Not in this case. This falls under several Homeland Security laws that give the authority to hold you incommunicado for an indefinite period.”

  No such law existed, which was not something Marjek would share. His job was to get her to Site 23 without giving her time to look into the legal ramifications. If it came down to it, he could have the FBI agents take her into custody and deliver her to a remote location at Andrews Air Force Base for transport whether she agreed or not. Still, it would be better for her future and easier for him if she could be cajoled or tricked into acceding voluntarily.

  “What about my job?” Jill asked. “What about friends and family, what do I tell them?”

  He knew he had her. She was grasping at straws.

  “The FBI has investigated you and your associations. You have minimal family and had limited contact with your parents and sisters the last couple of years. You and your ex, Bobby’s father, haven’t spoken since he left some months ago. Your life is pretty much consumed with your job and taking care of Bobby. As for friends you’ve made in the last few months, that’s confined to some immediate neighbors, including Marcie Hopkins who runs the daycare across the quad. The people at work will wonder why you are resigning, but you’ll be forgotten within a few months.

  “You will call Marcie and tell her there is a family crisis, and you are moving back to Ohio. You can thank Marcie for watching Bobby, for being a friend, if that’s what she is, and tell her that one of your relatives will show up in a few days to pack up your belongings. A very nice-looking man will come to your apartment and put the rest of your things in storage. You’ll be paid while living at the site, although you won’t have direct access to those funds. They’ll be deposited in your bank account, and if you are cleared, they’ll be waiting for you when you return.”

  “But without money, how can I buy anything?”

  “You won’t have to buy anything. Everything at the site will be provided for you. Whatever else you need will be ordered.”

  “You say this is a remote site? What kind of life would it be for a two-year-old child? What if Bobby gets sick?”

  “My understanding is that while the site is remote, the living conditions are quite good. The site staff includes doctors, nurses, dentists, and any likely medical problem for either you or Bobby would be taken care. For any true emergency, provisions are in place for either on-site advanced medical care or emergency evacuations to a secure military medical facility.”

  Jill was now puzzled. “So, this is a military site? I thought it was something to do with Homeland Security, which is a civilian department.”

  Zach eased up slightly with the stern demeanor and relaxed into a hint of a smile. “I can only say that you will be living and working with a mix of both military and civilian personnel.”

  “If I agree to do this, when will I find out more about where we’re going and what is actually going on?”

  “Once you are in transit, there’ll be more information. Complete briefings will wait until you’ve arrived at the site. As to exactly how much information you will be given about the site and what is the basis of all the fuss, that’s something I expect will be determined later.”

  Jill’s mind whirled. How could this happen? It was hard enough to find a job and care for Bobby, and just when she seemed to be settling into a routine, this happened! It just wasn’t fair!

  Bobby seemed to have had enough of being held and squirmed out of Jill’s lap. He tottered over to Zach and tilted his head up at the distant face, which, given their size differential, required him to lean way back. “Hi,” he said again.

  “Hi, Bobby,” Zach said, this time giving Bobby a genuine smile that relaxed his face from the stone visage he’d used on Jill.

  Satisfied that the man was friendly, Bobby said, “Bye.” He turned and toddled back into his room to play with one of his favorite toys, a box of multicolored, multi-sized, multi-textured balls. After dumping the box, he would laugh, swat them in all directions with his hands and feet, then collect the balls and repeat.

  Jill smiled at Bobby as he left the room.

  I have to do what I have to do, she thought.

  “All right,” she said firmly, looking at Agent Marks. “When do we go?”

  “Right now.”

  “Now!” she wailed. “You mean, right now?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “What can I take with us? How many clothes? What kind of clothes? Bobby’s toys?”

  “There is no specific limit,” Marjek said. “Quickly pack whatever personal clothes you feel you need for an extended stay, but don’t take more than you absolutely need. Same for Bobby. There are laundry facilities available at the site, and if any additional clothing is required, it will be provided at the site. For personal items, I suggest confining your needs to the equivalent of a single suitcase, and the same for Bobby’s favorite toys. There will be an opportunity to replace things for Bobby, as needed.

  “I can tell you that significant efforts will be made to ensure your and Bobby’s comfort at the site. If you have personal pictures or other such items you want to take, please take only the minimal amount needed to make yourself feel at home in what will probably be smallish living conditions. You will not be taking any cameras or recorders. Writing material will be provided there. No personal computers or cell phones are allowed, but if you have iTunes or other such music or favorite CDs, those are okay.

  “I suggest that you simply start off by spreading everything you think you will need here on the living room floor, along with suitcases. I have duffel bags I can bring in, and I’ll help you assess exactly how much to take.”

  During the next ninety minutes, Jill put various items on the living room floor, only to have Zach reject many of them. In the end, she had their two suitcases, her tote bag, a backpack, and three duffel bags filled to bursting.

  Zach opened the apartment door, walked out to the balcony, and motioned to the two FBI agents, who had long since removed themselves to benches under a tree in the quad. When they came up to the apartment, Zach thanked them for their assistance and stated that Miss Hardesty and her son needed to be delivered to Andrews Air Force Base. He handed the female agent a piece of paper.

  ”Please deliver them to Hangar 17. Here is a telephone number for security to call when you arrive at the gate. They will direct you where to go. Miss Hardesty will be taking these suitcases and bags,” said Zach, motioning to the pile of belongings in the middle of the floor. “She is not to discuss anything with you on the trip, and you are not to stop for any reason until you get to Hangar 17 to deliver her to personnel who will meet you.”

  The two FBI agents had quizzical expressions, but their instructions were to accompany the Homeland Security agent to Miss Hardesty’s apartment, identify themselves as FBI agents, follow any instructions from the agent, and then forget the episode ever happened.

  The five of them left the apartment, with Jill carrying Bobby, his backpack, and her tote bag. Zach lugged two duffel bags, and the FBI agents carried the remainder of the hurriedly assembled belongings. When they reached the parking area, the FBI agents unlocked a large black van.

  Why always black? wondered Zach. Just like in the movies. Somebody should clue them in that being inconspicuous means blending in, not announcing yourself with stereotypes.

  Jill and Bobby were guided into the van’s rear seat, and the age
nts loaded the bags into the rear. Without another word, Zach nodded to Jill, then to the agents, and watched the van drive away.

  CHAPTER 8

  TRANSPORT

  Santa Clara, California

  News of the project’s conclusion hit the shocked Virtual-Reality management and staff like a thunderbolt. The project manager called the company’s headquarters, and several executives rushed to Santa Clara on hearing the news.

  “It’s impossible to terminate the program with no notice,” the parent company’s vice president vehemently protested.

  “Wrong,” replied Andrew. “I’m sure you know the fine print as well as I do. The government can terminate or change any portion or all of the project at any time.”

  “But the system isn’t finished yet,” the company’s technical manager chimed in. “We think there’s another year or more work needed.”

  “I’m sure you’re right that more work is needed,” said Andrew. “However, for the purposes that the Pentagon funded the project, the system works well enough, and whatever small changes are needed will be carried out elsewhere.”

  “Elsewhere? What do you mean elsewhere? Where?” The series of questions came from an apoplectic man Andrew didn’t recognize and whose position he was unaware of.

  Andrew let the protests continue for another five minutes before he informed the group they would have to complain to higher officials at the Pentagon because he was through talking with them. The Pentagon lieutenant colonel arrived the next day and relieved Andrew from interacting with company executives, at least a few of whom were schooled in the bureaucratic paperwork involved in government contracts. They cajoled the rest of the people to turn to contacting the Pentagon and salvaging what they could. This had been a lucrative contract for Virtual-Reality, but the better executives realized too much protesting might either jeopardize future contracts or reduce access to some of the project’s results.

  Andrew learned later that although much of the development work would remain classified, the Pentagon agreed to license several pieces the company thought it could apply to other divisions, particularly projects involving input/output as applied to gaming and avatar development.

  In the end, Andrew was gratified that his part went as smoothly as it did. He had spoken with Ralph, Jason, and Harold before the rest of the staff heard the news. The meeting went unexpectedly well. At first, the three men were surprised when Andrew told them that only the three of them would be at the meeting and not others from the sixty-plus staff of different disciplines. Even the project manager was omitted. Their puzzlement quickly turned to dismay when Andrew told them of the project closing down, and that the system would be deployed. Each of the three made a range of protests about the system not being finished, but Andrew asserted that the rest of the development would occur at the application site.

  Andrew only had to dangle the opportunity in front of them of accompanying the system to continue on-site development. From that point on, getting them to sign on had been ridiculously easy. The system’s purpose had been a burning curiosity for everyone on the project. The opportunity to finally get answers and continue working with the system was determinative. Naturally, a proposed increase in an already generous salary didn’t hurt, at least for Jason Cain and Harold Nieze. Such pecuniary considerations remained irrelevant for Ralph Markakis, who paid little attention to his portfolio handled by an investment-managing firm.

  Once Andrew garnered their commitment to join the project, he then broke the news that they would leave in one week. This elicited the second storm of protests.

  “There’s no way we can prepare the system for transport in just a week,” Harold asserted.

  “You’ll have plenty of help,” said Andrew. “Once the rest of the staff gets over the shock of learning the project is ending suddenly, they’ll be getting significant severance packages if the company is not going to reposition them—conditional on everything being ready for transport in one week.”

  Andrew didn’t relay that payments to the staff members also depended on their signing nondisclosure and security papers backed by forfeiting their future and previous payments, in addition to overt threats of legal consequences for violations.

  The next complaint came from Jason.

  “How do you expect us to settle any personal matters that fast?”

  “Are you sure there are no personal affairs that can’t be settled within one week?” asked Andrew.

  Ralph shook his head while saying, “I’m good,” and almost bouncing in his chair—a typical display of inveterate enthusiasm for nearly everything.

  Harold looked pensive and gazed as if focusing on a distant object while thinking.

  “I suppose I can explain to my family and acquaintances how I have a new job that will take me away for up to a year. Most of them already know I work on some kind of secretive project, so a little more mystery should be easily passed off.”

  Jason took more time. While Andrew asked questions of Ralph and Harold, Jason sat silent, obviously deep in thought, as he considered whether he was ready to commit further to this project. And what about his relationship with Lily? He’d known for some time that they were going to split, so why not now? He suspected she would be relieved because he’d gotten the sense she was mentally preparing herself to “move on.” Jason rejoined the conversation, looked at Andrew, nodded, and said, “All right, I think I can manage it.”

  When the initial reactions died away, Harold first turned to destination inquiries.

  “So, once we have everything packed up, where are we going?”

  Andrew shook his head. “You don’t need more details yet. A few days before leaving, you’ll be given guidelines on what and how many personal items you can bring. At some point during transportation, we’ll be given more information on the destination.”

  “We?” asked Ralph.

  “Yes. I’ll be coming, too,” said Andrew.

  “So . . . you don’t know where we’re going either?” asked Jason. “You said ‘we’ll’ be given more information.”

  It hadn’t been a slip of the tongue. Andrew figured it would help if the three core systems staff members saw Andrew as “one of them” and not only military.

  “That’s right. I haven’t had the ‘need to know’ until now.”

  “That’s totally cool, Andy,” exclaimed Ralph. “I just assumed you were in on the secret and were going along with hiding it from us. Now we know you’re in the same boat.”

  A hectic week ensued. Everyone involved felt the tension generated by packing computer systems worth as much as small cities’ total real estate. Andrew spent three days observing pallet preparation and ordered people to start over twice before being satisfied the computers would survive anything short of a catastrophic plane crash.

  He was spared the entire VR staff’s curiosity once Ralph spread the word that even the military liaison officer was in the dark. Sinclair had told Andrew about the initial legs of their trip but not the final destination. The pallet parameters he was given meant air transport. It didn’t take extensive research for him to predict Travis Air Force Base, outside of Fairfield, California, as the obvious departure point—being only an hour and a quarter drive from Virtual-Reality. The base housed the busiest U.S. military airlift facility and served as home for the military’s largest cargo aircraft, the C-5 Galaxy, mid-air refuelers, and the C-17 Globemaster. The latter plane was not as large as the C-5 but could land on shorter, unimproved runways. A look at the packing specifications led Andrew to believe their pallets were destined for a C-17.

  Travis Air Force Base, Fairfield, California

  Eight days after Andrew’s return, a convoy of trucks led by a van made the trip from Palo Alto to Travis Air Force Base. While loading the trucks at Virtual-Reality, Harold noted that in addition to the pallets containing the VR system’s three computer cores, there were other pallets labeled to contain two additional cores. He assumed those were the extra cores VR,
Inc. had had on hand but never needed to install.

  Andrew had wondered who would first notice the additions. “The powers-that-be decided to bring along two more complete systems, in case one of the initial three failed or to account for the possibility of more computing power being needed once the system is deployed or if enhancements are needed.”

  “Is this really practical?” asked Jason. “Ralph and I have done programming on critical software modules, but we depended on teams of programmers and systems engineers to do the grunt work and keep things running. You’ve implied that wherever we’re going doesn’t have ready communication, but what about IT staff? If you expect us to be able to do everything, you’ve got a shock coming.”

  “Hopefully, there won’t be problems we can’t handle,” said Andrew. “There are a small number of outstanding IT people on site, and there’s always the possibility of remote help, people who wouldn’t know exactly what they’re working on. Although I don’t know for certain, I would think we could also bring in additional staff on a temporary and emergency basis. But again . . . hopefully that wouldn’t necessary, and we’ll find the two extra cores are never needed.”

  Jason rubbed his jaw. “Yeah . . . but doesn’t that tell us something about the importance of whatever the mystery is? Having two cores that cost as much as these do just sitting and collecting dust isn’t done for just any old project.”

  Andrew didn’t respond. He agreed.

  When they arrived at Travis, the caravan cleared security and drove past the main terminal and hangers, past parked cargo planes—the enormous C-5s and the smaller but still impressive C-17s—and then crossed the main runway and drove out to a series of circular pads, on one of which sat a C-17 with a forklift. Three men stood watching the approaching vehicles.