Intervention: A Science Fiction Adventure

by J. W. Huemme

  This went on day after day, month after month. Christopher would look at the enlarged photographs sometimes for hours on end. He knew the answer was right in front of him, but he just wasn’t seeing it. What could he be missing? There was nothing there but the lines of jumbled letters. There was nothing else on the photographs, except, of course, the date. The date!

  Christopher immediately began hitting the keys on his computer. In a matter of moments, the printer came to life spitting out page after page of encrypted messages intercepted over the last three years. There was one big difference this time: All the messages were sorted according to the date they were sent. He took all of those sent on the same date and looked at them for anything they might have in common. It wasn’t long before he was able to find certain similarities in all the messages sent on the same date. Bingo! He found several words that matched. He knew there would always be certain words used several times in every message. The Russian equivalent of words like “the” and “for” and so on. Now that he knew for a fact that the date was the key, he went to work on a new program that would allow Mega Bucks to earn its pricey nickname.

  Christopher was busily working away at his computer terminal when he heard a noise and looked up to see Bill standing in his doorway. “Have you got a minute?” he asked.

  Christopher stopped and responded, “Sure, Bill. Please, sit down.”

  Bill sat in one of the seats in front of Christopher’s desk. “I’ve noticed you’re pace has suddenly picked up, and you’re working till all hours of the night. Are you on to something I should know about?”

  “Well,” Christopher responded, “I guess I’m sure enough to tell you about it. I think I cracked Helix. Well, I haven’t got it completely, but I found the key. It’s the date. I found that the messages are encrypted according to the date they were sent. The person receiving the message then uses the date as the key code for the decryption.” Christopher stood up and walked over to where several of the enlarged photographs were hanging on his wall. Pointing to highlighted areas of the different messages, he continued, “For example, all of these messages were intercepted on the same date. Some in different years, but the exact same day of the year. I then looked for two and three letter words, like ‘the’ and ‘for’—words that would be common to almost every message. You can see the words I highlighted in each message,” Christopher pointed to different words, “here and here—a perfect match. Again here and here, and here—perfect match again. There’s no doubt that the date is the key to decrypting the messages, I just haven’t got all the details worked out yet.”

  Bill sat and looked at the photographs for a moment. Then he turned to Christopher. “That’s amazing. You’ve found the key. Have you run it through Mega Bucks yet?”

  “I’m just putting the finishing touches on a program I’m writing based on the date being the key code. As soon as Tom clears the program, we’ll run it and see what happens.”

  Bill stood up, “As soon as your program is ready to run, come down to the computer room. I’m going there now and I will have Tom get ready to run it as soon as you’re ready.”

  “I should be there in ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” Christopher responded.

  As Christopher entered Bill’s office, he found both Bill and Tom staring at the computer screen on Tom’s desk. “How’s it look Tom?” Christopher asked.

  “This is really something, Christopher. Some of these subroutines are quite unusual, but I don’t see any problem with running it. I’ll start loading it, and as soon as it is in, we can turn it loose on Helix and see what it does.” Bill stroked the keys on his terminal for another minute or so, then said, “All right. It’s uploading into the mainframe. Let’s go out to the main console and as soon as it’s finished downloading, we’ll give it a whirl.”

  Tom, Bill, and Christopher all left Tom’s office and went to a large control console in the middle of the computer room. Tom sat at the console flanked by Bill and Christopher. “There. That’s it. Okay, let’s do it.” Tom, having brought up the new program, hit the run button brining Mega Bucks to life. Tape reels were spinning, lights were flashing—it was a computation ballet of sorts. After a moment of observation, Tom broke the silence. “Well, all we can do now is wait. It will probably take quite a while.”

  “Have either of you had lunch yet?” Bill asked.

  “Well, actually no,” Christopher responded.

  “Not me,” Tom answered.

  “Come on then. I’ll buy you both lunch in the cafeteria, and Christopher, how about we eat it there, too?” Bill said jokingly.

  After lunch, the three returned to the computer room to see what, if any, progress Mega Bucks had made on the Helix decryption. “This could take hours, maybe more,” Tom stated.

  “Let me know as soon as anything breaks, Tom. I’ll be in my office,” Bill stated and left the room.

  Christopher said, “I’ll monitor progress from my office terminal. I want to go over the program and see if I can improve it in some way. I’ll talk to you later, Tom.”

  As Christopher approached the door to leave, Tom added, “By the way, Christopher, good work.”

  Back in his office, Christopher brought up a program that enabled him to monitor any progress made by Mega Bucks. He then poured over a printout of the program he had written, looking for ways to improve it.

  It was almost one in the morning. He stayed a little later than usual having been monitoring the progress of Mega Bucks, and suspected it was on the verge of a breakthrough.

  The cleaning people had already come through and cleaned and vacuumed. He was sitting back in his chair going over the program in his mind, when he noticed something different on his computer monitor. Something was flashing. Christopher immediately sat up in his chair and read the message contained in the flashing rectangular border. It read, “Task complete: press F1 to view message.” As fast as Christopher could press the designated key, he began to read what was once an encrypted message.

  “Oh no!” he said out loud. He quickly started flipping through his rolodex. “Bill? It’s Christopher. I’m sorry to wake you, but I think you had better get down here as quick as you can. You better give Agent Johnson a call, too. He needs to know this now!”

  “I’ll call him and be right there,” Bill replied still half asleep.

  Bill and Agent Johnson arrived at the same time at Christopher’s office. Bill asked, “What have you got Christopher?”

  “Well, Mega Bucks broke the code about one o’clock this morning. As you know, Bill, we were using older messages with the program to test the program. After Mega Bucks successfully decoded those, I decided to double check the program by feeding in some more recently intercepted messages. This is what I got,” Christopher handed Agent Johnson and Bill each a copy of the decoded message.

  The message was instructing the KGB to move on a recently discovered American agent acting as a double agent, while all the time feeding the important information back to the Americans.

  “We’ve only got a couple of hours before they pick him up. I’m going down to communications and get a warning off to him to disappear. Good work, Christopher.” Agent Johnson left in a hurry.

  Bill turned to Christopher and said, “You did it again. Don’t worry, Agent Johnson will see the agent gets the message in time. Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

  A few minutes later, Agent Johnson walked into the cafeteria. “We were able to get through. He’ll be long gone when the KGB goes to pick him up thanks to you, Christopher. Well I don’t know about you, but I’m going home and try to get a little more sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I guess I could use a little sleep myself,” Christopher commented.

  “Me too,” Bill replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

  Christopher showed up to work in the morning acting as if nothing had happened. Once the word got around, he found himself bombarded with congratulations. He took it all in stride and c
ontinued writing a new subroutine for his latest program. He didn’t seem to enjoy reveling in his successes, but preferred to work toward the next. It was nearly time to call it a day when the phone on his desk rang.

  “Christopher?” It was Agent Johnson. “Could you come up to my office?”

  “I’ll be right there,” Christopher responded. On his way to the elevator, he told Barb, “I’ll be in Agent Johnson’s office if you need me.”

  As Christopher entered the outer office, Marge told him, “You can go right in. He’s expecting you.” As he entered, Christopher noticed another person already seated in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I’ve got someone here that would like to meet you, Christopher,” Agent Johnson said indicating the person in the chair. The man stood and turned to greet Christopher.

  “Hello, Christopher. I wanted to thank you personally. Your effort has saved me from being at least tortured, if not killed. I just wanted to come here and shake your hand.”

  Christopher looked at the man and said, “You must be the agent I learned about in the decoded message. I’m glad to see you made it out alright.”

  “Yes,” the man responded, “and if I can do anything to return the favor, you just let me know.”

  “Well,” Christopher hesitated.

  “What? Tell me what I can do for you.”

  “Well, I have a small collection of puzzles and the like. It’s a hobby. I don’t get out much to look for additions to my collection. I thought that if in your travels you were to run across anything of interest, you might—”

  “Consider it done. It hardly seems like enough for what you have done for me. It’s the least I can do. I must be going now. Again, I thank you.” With that, the man left. Christopher knew better than to ask his name.

  * * *

  Over the years, Christopher continued to prove his worth time and time again. He had been with the CIA for 12 years and had earned the well-deserved respect of his peers. Since the meeting with the nameless field operative, his puzzle collection had nearly tripled in size. The agent had spread the word to several other field agents, all of which started sending Christopher puzzles from all corners of the globe. He now had so many, he had long since run out of room and had to take a couple home with him each time he visited his parents. His old upstairs room there was rapidly turning into a puzzle museum. Mary even displayed one or two of the more exotic pieces in the living room to remind her of Christopher. It seemed like nothing could go wrong in his life. But like some old magician’s props, that too was an illusion.

  Christopher picked up the ringing phone from its cradle on his desk. “Christopher?” it was Barb. “Your mother is on line four.”

  “Thank you, Barb.” He pushed the appropriate button on the phone. “Hello, Mom. How are you?”

  “Christopher, it’s your father. He’s had a heart attack. He’s in the hospital, but, well they don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

  “Are you at the hospital now, Mom?” Christopher responded.

  “Yes,” Mary answered.

  “I’m going to leave right now. I’ll be there within an hour.”

  “Hurry, Christopher.”

  “I will, Mom.”

  Christopher pressed seven on the phone. “Bill Brandon,” the voice said.

  “Bill, Christopher. Listen, my mother just called. My father’s had a heart attack. They don’t know if he’s going to make it. I need to get there as soon as possible.” This was the first time in twelve years with the agency that Christopher had ever asked for anything.

  “Hang on a second, Christopher.” Bill put him on hold for just a moment, then returned. “I just checked with the airport. We have a jet there ready to go. It will be waiting for you. They’re warming up the helicopter on the roof as we speak. They’ll be ready to take off by the time you get there. Call me when you know anything, and if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Thanks Bill. I’ll call you,” Christopher said and then headed for the helipad on the roof.

  There was an agent standing next to the open door of the already running black helicopter. As Christopher climbed on board, the agent climbed in behind him, closing the door. The pilot immediately lifted off and headed directly for the airport.

  The helicopter pilot got Christopher to the airport in record time. A sleek black jet was waiting on the tarmac with its engines already running, waiting for Christopher to board. The pilot landed the black helicopter as close as he could to the plane, and with a few quick steps, Christopher was on board. The door closed behind him. The jet almost instantly began rolling. The pilot, having been briefed on the situation, pushed the sleek craft to its destination as quickly as he could. Another black helicopter sat running on the tarmac as the jet came to a stop. Christopher quickly exited the airplane and boarded the helicopter. In less than five minutes, the helicopter was setting down on the roof of the hospital, on the helipad normally reserved for med flights.

  Inside, one of the agents went to the desk, and, holding up his identification, said, “Joseph Adams?”

  The nurse looked at a clipboard. “Intensive care. Down there,” she said pointing down a hallway.

  At the intensive care desk the agent repeated, “Joseph Adams?” and held up his identification. “Second door on your right,” the nurse responded. The two agents turned around as if to stand guard as Christopher headed for the room.

  As he entered the room he saw his father lying in bed with an array of tubes and wires coming from all parts of his body and plugged into monitors on the wall and beside his bed. Mary, sitting beside the bed, turned and saw Christopher.

  “Christopher!” she exclaimed as she rose and held him tight.

  “How is he, Mom?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t look good.”

  “Is he awake?”

  “Even if he isn’t, I know he can hear you,” Mary replied.

  Christopher stood beside his father and took hold of his hand. Mary stood on the other side of the bed. “Dad, it’s Christopher. I got here as fast as I could. You’ve got to hang on, Dad.”

  Joe’s eye slowly opened just a little. As he tried to speak, Christopher leaned closer to hear him. “Christopher. Good. Listen, you take care of your mother, okay?”

  “You just have to hang on, Dad. You can do it.”

  Joe struggled again to speak. “Take care of your mom, son. I’m counting on you.” With that, his eyes closed and his head rolled lifelessly to the side as his last breath gently escaped through his lips.

  “Dad! No!”

  “Joe!” Mary cried.

  * * *

  Agent Johnson, Bill Brandon, Tom Clayton, Marge, Barb, and several others Christopher worked with were there as the flag-covered coffin lay resting above the hole where Joe’s body would rest for all eternity. Mary stood next to Christopher and her longtime friend and neighbor Linda. While the priest spoke, Christopher looked up, and in the back of the crowd, he noticed the nameless agent he had met after breaking the Helix code. He gave Christopher a nod of condolence, touching the brim of his hat and tipping his head simultaneously. For Christopher’s sake, he stayed around long enough to give his condolences to Mary. Christopher introduced him to Mary simply as a friend, after which he was gone.

  Later, back at the house, Mary met the people from the agency. They were all very supportive. Marge and Barb helped Linda take care of everything around the house, so Mary wouldn’t have a mess to clean up. Bill insisted Christopher take a few weeks’ vacation time to spend at home where he would be needed. After everyone was gone, Christopher held his mother close and assured her he would make sure she had everything she would ever need.

  During the weeks that followed, Mary found out Joe had taken out a large life insurance policy on both of them. He had assumed Mary would outlive him, and he didn’t want to leave her without the means to support herself. Christopher reminded her if she ever needed anything, she could count on her favorite son. He would always be the
re for her.

  In the years that followed, Christopher started taking the vacation time he never had before to spend more time with his mother. He had always gone home for the different holidays, but now he flew home at least one or two weekends a month. The Cold War was winding down relieving some of the pressures of the job, helping to free up Christopher’s time for these weekend trips home. Mary followed his career closer than ever. They had gotten even closer than they had been before he went away to school.

  Christopher was sitting at his desk, working on a new decryption program for the latest computer system. Mega Bucks had been replaced three times since he broke the infamous Helix code many years before. In the back of his mind, he was anticipating his trip home to visit his mother in two days when the phone on his desk insisted on his attention.

  “Christopher Adams,” he said as he held the receiver to his ear.

  “Christopher, Bill. Could you come to my office?”

  “I’ll be right there, Bill.”

  As he entered Bill’s office, Bill spoke. “Please, have a seat.” Christopher sat in one of the comfortable chairs in front of Bill’s desk. “You know,” Bill spoke, “I’ve been sitting behind this desk for longer than I care to think, and I’m not getting any younger. Seeing your parent’s house at your father’s funeral reminded me there is life outside of the agency. I think the time has come for me to see if I can find a little piece of that life for myself. I’ve decided to retire, Christopher, and I’ve recommended that you succeed me as the head of the decryption section. I think you’re more than ready to wear that hat.” Bill once again looked for the reaction that Christopher never seemed to show. “Well, what do you think?”

  “Christopher Adams, section chief. I must admit, I like the sound of it. Of course, Bill, there’s nothing I’d like more.” This was the closest thing to a reaction he had ever seen from Christopher, Bill thought.

  “I know you’re going to visit your mother this weekend. Why don’t you make it a long weekend, five or six days perhaps, and when you get back, we can spend some time preparing you to take over here.”