The Aegis Solution

by John David Krygelski

  "E.C.! How are you?"

  The greeting came from Marilyn, Faulk's aide. She had been a fixture there for years and had worked in the same position for Elias at the time he had occupied the office.

  "Hi, Marilyn. I'm okay."

  She stood and came around her desk to give him a hug and a brief kiss on the cheek. As she did, she whispered in his ear, "You look like hell."

  Elias allowed himself a brief chuckle and replied, "So do you."

  She did not, of course.

  As they separated, over her shoulder Elias caught a brief glimpse of irritation on Faulk's face. Although he had become something of a hermit since his abrupt departure, there had been enough communication between Elias and Marilyn to know how she felt about her new boss, her dislike amplified, no doubt, by her very detailed inside knowledge of the incident leading up to Elias' abrupt exit.

  "I hate to break up this reunion," Faulk interjected, using words perfectly consistent with a friendly jab at the two of them, his tone conveying the opposite. "But we've got quite a bit to do, Elias."

  Her back still turned to her boss, Marilyn rolled her eyes, a sour smirk curling her lips. Elias had to struggle to suppress a smile at her as he said, "Let's go."

  "Marilyn, we're going to need some coffee, and maybe some muffins."

  "Yes, sir." She looked at Elias and asked, "Your usual?"

  This time he did allow himself a smile as he answered, "That would be great. Thanks."

  The two men entered the large office. Instead of moving toward the desk, Faulk sat at the medium-sized conference table positioned adjacent to the windows. Taking the seat at the head of the table not only placed Faulk in the natural power-position, but also gave him access to a keyboard and control panel. Elias followed and dropped heavily into one of the side chairs.

  Mounted on the closest wall to the table, a flat-screen came to life, instantly displaying the agency logo. With a few keystrokes, Faulk summoned up the video he had described to Elias during the drive.

  "There he is," he indicated unnecessarily, the camera clearly capturing one of the most notorious faces on Earth, as the man emerged from the inside of the last turnstile.

  Faulk had already paused the image when Elias suddenly urged, "Keep rolling."

  "What is it?" Faulk asked as he resumed the video.

  Rather than explaining, Elias questioned him. "Who are those two?"

  Leaning forward in his chair, Faulk stared at the two men who had entered Aegis behind Kreitzmann.

  "I don't know. I would guess they are just two more new entrants. Why?"

  "Pause it."

  Faulk froze the motion on the screen.

  "Look at Kreitzmann. Look at the body language. It looks as though he's waiting for them, as though they're together."

  Faulk noticed that Kreitzmann was still in the frame. After entering, he had turned to wait for the others.

  "Do we have any video of them farther in?"

  "No. No interior cameras. Only the entry."

  "Don't snow me, Richard. This camera was there while I ran this agency, and I didn't know about it. What else do we have?"

  Sighing, Faulk said, "Elias, I didn't know about the camera until Ft. Detrick was ordered by the White House to bring this to me. If there are any other cameras, they haven't told me about them, either."

  "Play it again."

  With a few clicks on the keyboard, Faulk re-cued the video and started it. This time both of them stared silently. As it finished, Elias inquired, "Did facial-recognition come up with anything on either of them?"

  Faulk shrugged. "It wasn't in my briefing. I'll check. But as far as those two guys, they could have merely arrived at the same time as Kreitzmann and, you know, struck up a conversation on the outside. It could be nothing."

  "I don't think so."

  "Why not? Simply because Kreitzmann turned to wait for them?"

  "No. There's something else. Something in the way those two move."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Not sure. But it doesn't look right."

  "I'll double-check with Detrick to find out if they ran any recognition on their faces. But, in the meantime, there's one more thing I want to show you."

  "What's that?"

  Rather than immediately starting another video, Faulk explained, "Kreitzmann checked in three months ago."

  "Three months ago! And you're just now asking me to go in? That's a slow response, even for you. Why did you sit on it so long?"

  Without a touch of defensiveness in his voice, Faulk answered, "We didn't."

  Understanding instantly, Elias snorted. "Who have you already sent in?"

  "Stone. He went in two weeks after Kreitzmann."

  "You sent Eric in? What happened?"

  Faulk's voice was subdued. "We don't know."

  It was obvious that Faulk expected a string of questions. Instead, Elias sat back in his chair and stared at him, waiting.

  Stammering slightly, he continued, "We had two elements in place, communication and extraction. The first was a method the tech department came up with so that we could communicate with Stone once he was inside. Every twenty-four hours at a prearranged time, the black-out shield, which prevents anything electronic from entering or leaving Aegis, would blink off for a moment, allowing him to send a flash transmission."

  "Like the subs."

  "Exactly. We didn't want to take down the curtain for a period long enough to allow anyone else access. Eric was supposed to record his report each day. He carried a device, no bigger than a smartphone, which would encrypt and compress the report. It was synchronized with the blink-off to automatically upload whatever was in his queue and download any information we might want him to have, all in less than a second. No others could use the interruption unless they were perfectly synched, also."

  "What did he report?"

  At that point, Faulk hesitated for a moment. "We never got a single report."

  Faulk watched as Elias' jaw muscles tightened. He expected an outburst. None came. Slowly, Elias clamped down his emotions until he was able to say, "I repeat, why the time lag? Especially since you now had a missing agent."

  Speaking quickly, Faulk explained, "We still had our extraction date. That was two weeks ago."

  Faulk let his breath out slowly and finished, "Stone was a no-show."

  Elias turned away from Faulk and stared at the image on the screen of the two men and Rudy Kreitzmann. Faulk did not interrupt his thoughts. After a full minute, Elias turned back and said, "I'll leave today."

  Not surprised by his decision, Faulk added, "As I said, there's one more thing I want to show you."

  "There's more?"

  "Yes."

  His fingers again touched the keyboard, and the image on the screen changed. Whatever Faulk wanted Elias to see was from the same camera inside Aegis, because it seemed as if the three men suddenly disappeared.

  "What is this?"

  "Watch."

  Elias stared impatiently at the flat-screen – when, suddenly, something black and completely opaque rose from beneath the camera lens, fully obscuring the view.

  "What happened?"

  "Not any sort of a malfunction. According to the technicians, someone covered the lense with a black object."

  "Who could do that? Did anyone inside know about the camera?"

  "Supposedly not. Micro-lens integrated into the mechanical systems at the entrance. Essentially impossible to spot."

  "When did this happen?"

  "Two days ago."

  "So it could have been Eric. He knew about the camera, didn't he?"

  "Yes. At the time I briefed him, he saw the same video of Kreitzmann that you just saw. But I don't think it was Stone."

  "Why not?"

  "Keep watching."

  Minutes passed with no change to the picture. Abruptly, whatever was blocking the camera was removed. Directly lined up with the camera angle, affixed with duct tape to the inside of the turnstile, was
a large cardboard square.

  Someone with a heavy felt-tip marker had created a sign. Scrawled on the cardboard in large, jagged lettering were two words:

  HELP US!

  CHAPTER TWO

  Elias sipped his vodka tonic and watched the lush countryside slide gracefully past the window of the Crescent, a wry grin on his face as he recalled the tail end of the conversation between himself and Faulk. After Faulk showed him the cardboard sign, the briefing continued for another hour, as they discussed the details of what was expected of him and the logistics of the operation. He had, of course, accepted the assignment, and Faulk obtained the approvals, if any were actually necessary, within minutes. Predictably, Faulk asked Elias which agent he wanted as a partner. The conversation descended quickly into an argument when Elias told him he was going in alone. Elias had prevailed.

  The tech arrived with the communication device, gave Elias a quick lesson, and hastily departed, clearly uncomfortable with the tension level in the room. The final disagreement arose, as it inevitably did, over the subject of transportation to Arizona. Faulk was in a hurry, as he always was, and told Elias that a jet was already standing by at Andrews Air Force Base. As Elias demurred, telling Faulk that a perfectly good train traveled the route, Faulk exploded, his ranting interrupted by Marilyn, who tapped twice on Faulk's door and entered.

  Acting as though she were oblivious to her boss's suspended tantrum, she handed an envelope to Elias and said, "You're all set. You leave on the Crescent tonight at six-thirty."

  Hearing this, Faulk sputtered before saying, "Elias, it's going to take you three days to get there. I can have you on the ground at Davis-Monthan in three hours!"

  Elias thanked Marilyn and turned to Faulk, a hint of a smile on his face. "So?"

  Marilyn winked at him and left.

  "This assignment was requested from the very top. I'm supposed to go tell him you hopped on a slow-moving train to Arizona?"

  "Honestly, Richard, I don't give a damn what you tell him. You picked me. You know how I travel. If you want someone there in three hours, send someone else."

  The images of the unpleasant discussion still lingered in his mind as Elias saw the first hints of the lush swamp lands which would be his view for the balance of this leg of the journey. The club car was nearly half full with passengers, mostly refugees from the coach cars: a group of four men placidly sipping their drinks and playing cards, a family with several small children who were running up and down the center aisle, whooping and shouting, the cacophony they raised no doubt dampening the reverie of an elderly couple who were seated side by side, facing a window. Other than Elias, the couple seemed to be the only occupants who were attempting to experience the minutiae of a train ride through the bayou.

  He returned his gaze to the window and tried, once again, to visualize what he was going to encounter inside Aegis. No one really knew how many people were in residence. Actually, Elias realized, that was not completely true. With the existence of the entrance surveillance camera, which was divulged to him only yesterday, he surmised that there probably was a head count, at least a tally of those who had entered. That number was somewhere in the briefing papers he had yet to fully read. There were two variables which would affect the reliability of that number as any sort of a basis for the current population. The first, of course, would be deaths. The second, and this was one of the many things William Walker never contemplated in his emotional rush to open Aegis, would be births.

  It seemed obvious, in retrospect, that if you put men and women together anywhere, offspring were going to result. However, the enabling legislation creating the institution did not acknowledge this reality and failed to address what to do with these children. It was presumed that the parents understood the ramifications of what they were getting into when they checked in. They knew that one of the inviolable terms of entrance was that it was a one-way ticket. But the children…were they to spend their entire lives inside the walls of Aegis? They had no voice in the decision.

  This, along with a multitude of other issues, was grist for public debates, position papers, and think-tank studies. The public was constantly reminded that the core concept of Aegis was that the net effect of choosing to enter was, from the perspective of society, equivalent to death. There could be no contact, no communication; in no way could anyone who was inside have even the slightest effect on the external world.

  So, in the twisted logic of the current proponents, it followed that those children would have never been born, because their parents would have chosen the act of suicide rather than checking in. And, therefore, if one were to follow the fundamental premise of Aegis, society had no obligation to even acknowledge their existence.

  While Elias occupied his mind with thoughts of the bizarre construct he planned to enter, a part of him was aware of the train attendant who corralled the clamorous youngsters and seated them in a circle of chairs. He placed a game of some sort on the table before the children and softly cajoled them to join in, serving the function neglected by the parents who were oblivious to the mayhem their progeny were causing.

  Multi-tasking, a portion of his mind continued its attempt to conjure an image of what the world inside Aegis would be like, while another part dwelled on the question of what kind of parents he and Leah would have been, had they been given the chance. Both of these avenues were dark and murky, offering nothing but an inexhaustible source of depression and angst. It was down these two shadowy paths his mind doggedly wandered throughout the remainder of the trip into New Orleans.

  Elias stepped down from the train onto the covered platform of the New Orleans Union Passenger Station. The Crescent had arrived on time, and it was close to 7:30 in the evening. He was not hungry, having eaten in his bedroom compartment almost two hours earlier. The Sunset Limited was scheduled to depart New Orleans shortly before noon the next day. Elias went through the routine of a cab ride, an overnight stay in the nearby Windsor Court Hotel, and the ride back to the station, without indulging in even a moment of sightseeing. He was not tempted by Harrah's Casino, Morton's, or the shops along the Riverwalk Marketplace, all within short walking distance of his room.

  The following morning, Elias arrived at the station at a few minutes after ten, immediately found a Red Cap, and showed him his first-class ticket. The baggageman greeted him pleasantly, "Good morning, boss. Hop in," and took the one suitcase Elias was carrying, placing it onto the rear deck of his cart.

  Elias was barely settled into his seat when the Red Cap floored the pedal and the electric cart shot forward. With a series of long beeps on the horn, the man expertly maneuvered the cart, weaving through the maze of people and luggage, scooting blithely past the long line of passengers waiting at the gate for permission to board the train.

  "What's your name?" Elias asked, shouting over the whine of the cart and the noise of the terminal.

  "Barton," he answered without turning his head. "Willis Barton."

  "I'm Elias Charon."

  "Mister Charon," Barton yelled as he swerved the cart into an access tunnel at full speed, missing the concrete wall by mere inches, "a fine and proper French name. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."

  "If you don't mind, I'll shake your hand after you're finished driving." Elias was gripping the edge of the canopy above his head to stop himself from sliding out of the vehicle.

  Barton tilted back his head and barked out a laugh. "Fair enough, Mister Charon. Fair enough."

  They exited onto the platform next to the blue and silver train. Barton swerved to make room for another Red Cap to pass, the tires of the cart coming so close to the edge of the concrete that Elias was certain they were going to plunge down onto the empty track. Successfully completing the slalom maneuver, Barton continued heading toward the front of the train, passing the observation car, the club car, and the dining car, and coming to a stop at the first sleeper.

  Barton slid off his seat and grabbed the single suitcase fro
m the back. "Here we are."

  Elias swung around and planted his feet on the concrete, standing slowly. "Is this my sleeper?"

  "Yes, sir, it is. You got the best car on the train."

  "Why is that?"

  "It's the closest one to the dining car and the farthest from the engine. Bedroom E is six inches bigger than the others on the car. And, best of all, your attendant is my brother, Napoleon."

  Elias, a frequent train rider, was accustomed to the pervasive nepotism in the ranks, at least in the service roster of the train employees. Frequently, the attendants, once called porters, were third- or even fourth-generation employees, their grandfathers working for the railroads then owned by Santa Fe, Burlington Northern, Union Pacific, or the fallen flag of the Southern Pacific, and many times bringing the entire family into the profession.

  "I'll go fetch him," Barton promised, disappearing through the open door of the car.

  As he waited, Elias took in the sights, sounds, and smells which had always brought him pleasure: the throbbing hum of the engines, the smell of the diesel exhaust, and the look of the train itself poised on the track. Despite his ever-present malaise, Elias detected a faint tremor of excitement as he contemplated climbing aboard for the second leg of his journey.

  He was shaken from his pleasant meditation when he heard Barton emerge from the sleeper car. "I found him, but he's still trimming himself up. I'll take you up to your room."

  Elias smiled at Barton. "Thanks, but I know the way and I think I can still handle my suitcase."

  The baggageman paused and asked, "You sure? It's no problem. Besides, I've got to earn that generous tip you're going to give me."

  Elias reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty, handing it to Barton. "You already have, my friend."

  The bill disappeared instantly, and Barton snatched up the suitcase, carried it up the two steps, and placed it on the stamped-steel diamond pattern of the deck inside the car.

  "Thank you, sir. And you have a wonderful trip. Are you heading to Tucson to see folks?"

  "No. I'm afraid it's business."