by T. A. Uner
He tried forcing Johnny and the dogs from his thoughts; he had no other choice. It would only distract him. Soon he located the charges. Two pairs. They were in arming sequence for detonation. His only option was to use his scanner to disrupt the arming frequency.
“Who the hell are you?”
Argos spun around. Two security guards were pointing revolvers at him. They were dressed in black police caps, trousers, and white shirts. NASA security was written on their badges. He slowly slipped his scanner inside his field jacket pocket.
Argos reached inside his field jacket to pull out his replica 1960s credentials. One of the guards cocked his gun loudly and Argos stopped. “Nice and easy Mister,” the first guard said, “we don’t take too kindly to unauthorized personnel rummaging around here.”
“You can take a look for yourself,” Argos said. He gritted his teeth. These two dips pop in here right when I’m trying to save their timeline. The first guard approached him gingerly while the second guard covered him.
“I’m in the middle of a mission here,” Argos insisted. “You guys are interrupting my work.”
“Yeah, right pal,” the first guard said. “And I’m Pete Rose.”
The second guard had taken out Argos’ wallet and looked it over. “What does it say Larry?” the first guard asked.
Larry looked at the first guard. “Says he’s with CIA intelligence, Bobby.”
“That’s right,” Argos confirmed, “there’re four time bombs inside this facility.” Both guards stared at him as if he’d gone insane, “And if I don’t deactivate them, this whole facility is going up in smoke.” Argos’ scanner began to beep wildly and vibrate in his pocket.
“What the hell’s that?” Bobby asked.
“That’s my scanner.” Argos felt droplets of sweat sticking to his undershirt.
“We’re gonna have to check you out buddy,” Bobby said before looking at Larry. “Cuff ‘em.”
“I don’t have time for this crap.” Argos snatched the gun from Bobby’s grip−before Larry could reach for his own gun−and trained it on both security guards.
Both men looked at Argos dejectedly and raised their hands in surrender. A few seconds later Argos lowered the gun and offered it back to Bobby, whose face was mired in discomfiture.
“You guys have three seconds to trust me,” Argos ordered “or this whole complex is going to be a pile of rubble.”
They looked at one another before turning back to face Argos. “Sure Mister, I mean Agent Better,” Larry said before handing back Argos’ ID badge.
“Like I said there’s a few bombs in this complex, I’m here to disarm them, I need you two to alert the base quietly, and get everyone out of here…remember… quietly! Last thing we need is a panic.”
Both guards walked away hurriedly and Argos caught their animated chatter: “So who do you think planted those bombs?” Larry asked. Bobby replied, “Gotta be those damn Soviets, they’re probably jealous cuz we’re gonna beat ‘em to the moon.”
After they’d left Argos resumed his work. He found the right frequency and the first charge started shutting down.
(3)
July 16th, 1969
9:32 EDT
Just as it did in the original timeline, the mighty Saturn V rocket carried the three human astronauts— Edwin E. “Buzz” Aldrin, Jr., Neil A. Armstrong, and Michael Collins—into space, towards perhaps the most important human achievement of the 20th century.
(4)
July 20th, 1969
They stood in front of the televisions inside the electronics section of a department store, one black man, one white teen and two Dobermans, surrounded by televisions of all makes and models. Some color, and some black and white. Johnny’s father had told him about black and white televisions but he’d never actually seen one. Nobody seemed to mind that two dogs were inside the store, watching alongside them, or if they did, no one said anything.
But that did not matter now. The only thing that mattered was what they watched on television. A man named Neil Armstrong, dressed in a protective astronaut suit, descending the ladder of the lunar module while the whole world held its breath.
Then came the epic words that were forever transcribed in the human spirit. “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” Afterwards, Buzz Aldrin joined Armstrong on the surface of the moon and the U.S. flag was planted.
Johnny’s heart felt like it was lodged in his throat and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Then, he smiled and exhaled. Around them a few customers had gathered and were hugging one another, they hugged him and Argos too, and one lady petted Jessie and Studs.
Outside the store, Gina waited for them in the parking lot. When Johnny exited the department store, he looked up at the sky and saw a section of the moon staring down at him. “So it really did happen, didn’t it Argos?”
“And what makes you think it didn’t happen Johnny?”
“The kids at school. They all say it was a hoax, that the government faked it. They say it could’ve never been done.” They stopped when they reached Gina. Argos tossed Johnny the keys. He caught it and looked up at the moon again, before getting behind the wheel. Both Jessie and Studs took their spot in the rear seat.
“The 60s were a volatile era,” Argos said somberly, “plus there will always be conspiracy theorists who look at things from their perspective. Besides, they didn’t have the means to fake a landing. Back then—or now I should say—it was actually easier to travel to the moon with the available technology.”
“Yeah, I hear you.” Johnny looked up at the sky one last time. “You know Argos, there were these two really strange kids at school who supposedly hacked into the school’s computer and posted that moon landing hoax theory on the school’s social studies webpage.”
Part 3: Grendis Strikes Back
Chapter 18
Arizona
Present Day
Bloodboy and Diablo waited for Grendis to call them.
Bloodboy did not like to be kept waiting, but Grendis was their boss, and whatever the boss said, they’d do it. If Grendis wanted them to walk off a cliff, he and Diablo would do it. If Grendis wanted them to rip off traffic signs and sell them to blind people, they’d do it, if he wanted them to shoot up a bunch of bullies in their crappy-ass high school.
They’d do it. It was that simple.
Grendis had given them the keys to his house in Phoenix. It was a sweet place with a computer in almost every room, a bowling alley with two lanes and a lavish backyard pool surrounded by palm trees. There was even a Mexican butler named Sanchez. Unfortunately, he was off today.
“I’m bored,” Bloodboy said as he lounged on the leather sofa. “So tired of hacking into the public school website and posting curse words on the elementary school menus.”
Diablo nodded. “I wonder when Grendis is gonna call? This bullshit waiting game is driving me nuts.” He pulled out a semiautomatic handgun and twirled it in his palm.
“That thing loaded?” Bloodboy asked.
Diablo smiled and pointed it at his friend.
“Watch it then, you don’t want to blow my damn ears off, right? Don’t forget, we got Omega Day coming up.”
“How could I forget that?” Diablo put the gun away and went over to a fully stocked refrigerator filled with beer. He cracked open a can and sipped it before belching loudly.
“I can’t wait to see the looks on those kids’ faces when they see us in all our glory,” Bloodboy said.
Diablo just belched again. “Yeah, man. And don’t forget your friend Principal Barnes.”
Bloodboy laughed, and turned his thoughts backward.
(2)
Three Weeks Earlier
“You really need to get your act together Richard,” Principal Barnes said. “You can’t start fights with other students in the hallways.”
Bloodboy stared at him through his tinted glasses. Slouched in the chair in front of Barnes, lazily eying the framed awards o
n the wall behind the principal. “I don’t go by that name. It’s Bloodboy. And just so you know, one of those students tripped me in the classroom. Of course, the teacher did nothing.”
Barnes’ thick mustache dropped and formed a half-scowl. “I don’t know which planet you’re from, Son, but here, in Arizona, we go by our real names, not our stage names.” Barnes stood up from behind his desk. Sweat stains on his dress shirt formed damp circles under his arms. He straightened his tie and put his hands in his pants pockets. “Look, I was a rebel once,” he said compassionately. “And I know this is a difficult time in your life, but you can always go talk to your guidance counselor. You know that, right?”
Bloodboy remained silent.
“It’s Miss Kelly.”
Yeah, I remember her, Bloodboy thought. She’s kinda purty. He stood up. The chain in his pocket jingled.
“Wait, Son,” Barnes said. “I didn’t dismiss you yet.” He stared at Bloodboy like a cat eyeing a pigeon. “Just listen.”
Bloodboy froze. He decided he’d listen to this tool talk a few more seconds, he was kinda funny. “Okay Principal Barnes, I’m listening.”
“You’re a smart young man, Richard. Your grades are decent, and if you worked a little bit harder at improving your social skills and appearance, you could do a lot more for yourself. Maybe even make some friends.”
Bloodboy nodded and fingered his lip ring. Barnes looked at it disgustedly. “End of lecture, Richard, you can go now.”
***
Outside Diablo was waiting for him near the bike racks and packing dip inside his cheek. “How’s Principal Barnes, Blood?”
“Quite talkative,” Bloodboy responded. “He keeps calling me Richard.”
“Yeah,” Diablo replied before spitting out a streak of dip juice. “Check this out. You know my chemistry teacher, Mr. Filmore, calls me Franklin.”
Bloodboy started peddling while Diablo trailed him on his bike. “C’mon Franklin, let’s go hit the firing range. Get us some practice.”
As they were leaving the school grounds, the security guard smirked at them. “You boys stay out of trouble now,” he yelled from the inside of his vehicle.
“Sure thing, Manny,” Bloodboy said. “See ya later.” He waved at Manny while Diablo launched a dip streak over his shoulder.
“Gotta go get some smokes at the TipMart,” Bloodboy called out. Diablo nodded and continued peddling behind him.
They passed a school sign and turned right at the T-junction leading off school grounds before merging onto the bicycle lane at the side of the main road. As they neared the TipMart a BMW roared past them and cut them off. It hopped onto the curb before blocking their path.
Four students from their high school emerged from the vehicle. Bloodboy recognized one as Billy Roberts. The baseball player from his school he’d gotten into a scuffle with earlier today. “You two freaks got an ass beatin’ commin’ to ya for spray painting my locker,” Billy said. He was with his two jock friends, Jasper and Keyshawn.
Diablo grunted like a boar. Bloodboy extended his middle finger to Billy and his friends. “Eat this.”
The next thing Bloodboy knew, his cheek was kissing the cold pavement. He squirmed while reaching inside his pocket for his chain. A heavy weight settled on his arm and when he looked up Jasper was on top of him. In the corner of his eye he saw Diablo down too, being kicked in the face and ribs by Keyshawn and Bobby.
He summoned what strength he had and kicked Jasper in the crotch. The ballplayer cursed and rolled off him. Bloodboy then lashed his chain at Billy’s face, catching one of Diablo’s tormentors in the right eye. Billy howled and cupped his face. Diablo had risen, a dripping cut over his left eyebrow; Keyshawn turned to face Bloodboy.
A siren exploded, followed by flashing lights from a police car. Bloodboy saw two police officers approach the fight scene. Manny was right behind them inside his security car. He must’ve tailed us and called the cops when he saw us get jumped, Bloodboy thought.
As the cops began questioning everyone, Bloodboy felt a stabbing pain in his lower jaw. One of his teeth was missing. Probably dislodged when Jasper slammed his face into the pavement. He saw Diablo nursing his bloody face with his scraped hand. “This doesn’t look good for us Blood,” he said before two more police cruisers arrived on the scene. Soon armed police surrounded them.
(3)
“Funny how Billy didn’t get suspended like us,” Bloodboy told Diablo.
Diablo nodded. “Manny tried to put in a good word for us, but Billy’s rich Dad got him off; and his friends are on probation.”
“Money talks,” Bloodboy said while Diablo polished his rifle.
“So do bullets,” Diablo replied.
The door slammed open and they both stood up as Grendis rolled into the room, his face mired in an expression of confusion.
“Hey boss,” both boys said. Grendis acknowledged them both with a tired wave. “Something wrong?” Bloodboy asked.
“There’s been a minor setback,” Grendis said, “but nothing I cannot fix.” He eyed the bar and noticed that one of the whiskey bottles was half empty. He looked at Diablo. “Have you been drinking again?”
Diablo looked away.
“Damn your lack of discipline boy.” Grendis stomped over to the bar and locked away the liquor. “This is meant for relaxation, not indulgence. You appreciate luxury; you do not indulge in it. Haven’t I told you this countless times?” Grendis’ forehead swelled red before abating. “Maybe I was wrong in selecting you two.”
“Don’t talk like that, Grendis,” Bloodboy said, “we’re committed.” He looked at Diablo who nodded profusely.
“I’ll believe it when I see it. You two clean up this living room and go get some target practice in at the range.”
“We’ve got to tell you something Grendis,” Bloodboy said. “Both of us got suspended yesterday.”
Grendis cursed silently. “Why am I not surprised! Didn’t I tell you both not to attract attention to yourselves? But you’ve disobeyed me yet again. Never mind. We can still salvage something from this setback. It will just leave you with more spare time to hone your shooting skills.” Grendis pulled a tablet out of his leather briefcase and brought up the picture of a student on it. “Study this student’s face,” he said, pointing out the sandy-haired boy with a straight nose and good-natured smile, “you’ll both be tasked with killing him on Omega Day.”
Tir Morol’s failure added more woe to Grendis’ situation. Morol came from a powerful family, and upon her precipitated return, had put in a transfer request out of Grendis’ division. So be it, he thought. Let her leave. I will just have to complete this mission myself. He was upstairs in his room and heard the boys pulling out of the driveway in the vehicle he had gifted them. He was glad that they only used it when they worked for him, driving it to school would attract too much attention. At least that was one order they were capable of obeying.
Now he would find out who these humans were who were interfering with his plans. He pulled up some files on the Pentagon and studied every government agency reporting to them. Some files were encrypted. He could have the boys hack into it, but there was always the risk that they could be caught. Despite their proficiency, their technology wasn’t Lycarian. He pulled out his scanner and had it decrypt the Pentagon’s security codes. It was risky, but his hand had been forced.
Grendis guffawed. His mercurial eyes scanned the downloading files before his eyes and settled onto one highly sensitive document named: “American Legends Project.”
Chapter 19
Pentagon Building
Washington, D.C.
Lieutenant Renata Moeller of the United States Air Force wasn’t happy.
She had two tickets to the baseball game tonight and couldn’t go. Her boss, Brigadier General McDonald, had asked her to work an extra shift to monitor some strange chatter over the internet. Some strange talk about “Omega Day.” It was heavily encrypted and U.S. Cyber Command, USCYB
ERCOM, had asked the Air Force to investigate it.
Probably just another false alarm, Renata thought. Buncha punks making hacker talk. She was wondering if she could sell her tickets online when her computer terminal unexpectedly switched off. Her heart flipped in her chest once before the system came back online.
“What in the…?” she muttered.
Renata saw that someone had accessed the Pentagon’s main computer and was looking for files. She tried tracking the source of the incursion. Nothing. The advanced encryption technology the hacker was using was alien to her. What is it? North Korean? Iranian? Russian?
She speed dialed her Boss, General McDonald. When he answered, she exhaled in relief. “Sir, sorry to bother you, but someone is raiding our files.”
(2)
AL Command
Inside Mount Baldy
Patrice was half asleep, slumped over her desk with her headset in front of her face when Otis Mitchell woke her. “Miss Waters? Patrice?” She had fallen asleep worrying about Johnny, Argos and the dogs.
“Yes sir,” she replied after slipping the headset back on. Behind her TimeBoss was watching her back like a mechanical sentinel. "I’m sorry I was catching some sleep.”
“Just got a call from the Pentagon. Someone hacked their systems and plundered every file on AL. Use TimeBoss to help plug the leak.”
As soon as she stood up TimeBoss addressed her in its calming voice: “Yes Patrice, I’m already working on a solution.”
“Can you trace it?”
“There’s a 99.2 percent probability that the Lycarians have finally learned of our existence. Right now, I am predicting an 84 percent change in timeline integrity. And it’s getting worse.” TimeBoss said. “We’ve been discovered.”
“It was bound to happen eventually; their technology is vastly superior to ours.” She fought back sleep from her eyes and continued working.
