The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

“We have to find them first,” Joe said.

  “And that’s what I’m talking about,” Jason stated. “You were in the CIA, right? Well, when you were looking for someone, how did you do it?”

  “Collect evidence.”

  “Exactly,” Jason smiled. “Collect your evidence now. Obviously the information we have isn’t enough to locate them. For this to have been such the central location, the information needed to help you has to be here.”

  “I agree,” Joe nodded. “But where? Frank’s theory? Or if it’s in those hidden files, we can’t access them. They’re explosively protected.”

  “They weren’t always and I’m willing to bet those files weren’t always hidden either.”

  Joe’s eyebrows raised and he sat up straight. “But we don’t know when they were here. None of the information regarding when the Caceres Society first started in Beginnings is documented. We know when they were frozen. That’s it.”

  “And there has to be a point . . . in time . . . when all that information is vulnerable to us.”

  “But when?” Joe asked in a thinking manner. “When was that? This is a lot of years we’re talking. Too early and we risk not getting it, too late, the same risk.”

  “Now I don’t know the time frame either. We can guess all we want. But Joe, if you were back in the CIA, where would you start?”

  “Easy. Square one.”

  “Which is?” Jason asked.

  “Get to know them, find out about them, who they are, where they come from. Look for someone that knows something.”

  “And someone knows something,” Jason said. “A set up like they had isn’t planned in a year, or two for that matter.”

  “I know where you’re going with this.” Joe tapped his fingers on his desk, taking a few seconds to think. “Go back far enough that we don’t land smack dab in the middle of something here. But close enough that they started making a trail.”

  “Exactly. And if we’re only collecting information, we shouldn’t ripple any time sequences.”

  Joe sprang up from his chair, a happy look smearing across his face. “Let me review what we have. I’ll work on it today and tonight. Meet me here first thing in the morning. I’ll let you know what I come up with.”

  “Sounds good.” Jason stood up extending his hand to Joe. “My machine was built for the good of man, Joe. We can use it for the good of man.”

  “And hopefully tomorrow, you and I can come up with a plan that will help fill in some of the missing pieces to this screwed up puzzle.” Joe gripped Jason’s hand firmly and with a confident smile. Immediately it was replaced with a lost look.

  “Something wrong?”

  “This whole conversation had it, but Christ, am I overwhelmed with that annoying feeling… déjà vu, like we had this talk before.” “We probably did.” Jason said.

  “No, we didn’t.”

  “Probably did,” Jason reiterated. “In the ‘Dean is dead’ time frame. We probably discussed alternate ways in case we couldn’t bring Dean back to life. Which gives merit to my Ripple Bits theory. You’re not having déjà vu. You have ripple bits.”

  “Ripple bits?” Joe asked.

  “Yes. The time frame that occurred actually did happen, but most people aren’t strong minded enough to remember, but the ‘tough at mind’ will. And when they think they’re having déjà vu, they’re actually having memory remnants from a time period that was rippled. Ripple bits.”

  “Is that possible?” Joe asked.

  “Joe,” Jason snickered. “Ask Henry. In theory . . . everything is possible.”

  ^^^^

  Ellen couldn’t find Dean. He wasn’t taking a nap like she and Henry were. She peeked out into the halls to see if, perhaps, Dean was searching out a tea bag. He wasn’t seen. Ellen thought he could have gone topside to sit and talk to Sarge about old Army days. No matter where he was, one thing was for sure, Dean wasn’t in the lab.

  Ellen had sat on the safe following her middle of the night nap. She waited for Dean to come back into the reception area, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Things had to be prepared to go, whether Dean had finished his final reviews of the breakdowns or not. And Ellen thought she’d give a look-over one more time for Dean in case he found a more comfortable spot in the lab to sleep.

  “Dean?” Ellen called out his name walking in the lab. She could see through the pane of glass that he wasn’t in the special lab either. All the equipment was off and the soft buzzing of mechanics in that lab was no longer heard. Looking under each desk, Ellen gave up and tossed her arms up. “Where is . . .” As she turned she saw the light seeping out from under the crease of the door where the bio-suits were. Walking over to it, she opened it. Her heart sank. Dean sat on the floor, his knees bent up, his arms draped over them. “Dean?” She walked in and closed the door. “Dean, what is it?” She slid down next to him, laying her hand on his arched back.

  “I finished the breakdown reviews. For the . . . for the tenth time.” Dean lifted his head. His face was drawn with sadness. “Hoping I missed an ingredient, a structure. It’s not there.” He lightly banged his head against the wall as he leaned back against it. “It’s just not there. All those vials and not a single deadly virus unknown in there. I looked and looked, but it’s just not there.”

  “What about the antidote? Anything that might resemble that?”

  “Several vials contain possible viral antidotes. But a lot of good it’s going to do us without the virus.”

  “Dean, you tried.” Moving closer, Ellen reached her arm further around him.

  “How am I supposed to beat something I don’t even have or know what it is.”

  “You will. I have faith in you. You will.” She placed her face assuredly close to his.

  “I’m scared El.” His eyes said it all. “I am so scared. What if . . .” His hand lifted and fell on hers, grabbing it. “What if by the time we have the virus in our possession, it ends up being a repeat of history all over again.”

  “It won’t be.”

  “It could be. I’m afraid when it hits us, it will move so fast, and there just won’t be enough time.”

  Lacking any words she could give to comfort him at that moment, Ellen laid her head against Dean’s shoulder pulling him closer. But in Dean’s moment of drowning and worrying about enough time, he failed to see his one worry was the key to their answer . . . time. Perhaps it was the heaviness of not finding the future’s demise, but little did he see they had all the time in the world waiting on them back in Beginnings.

  ^^^^

  How long had Joe sat and thought about the plan? The wee hours of the morning were creeping up and in not too long, Joe would have to be out and about in the community. But all the time since his brief meeting with Jason, the hours were not wasted. Joe used that time wisely. During his work at containment, any idea jogging in his mind immediately went as a scribble in his notebook. By the time he had gotten through the shift in containment, walked around Beginnings, and made it home after dinner with Frank, Joe had his notebook twenty pages filled, all with single line ideas.

  Planning was always something Joe did well. And planning for the future was something Joe had to do. But for the first time ever, Joe had to use the past in order to look ahead. Using his scribbled one line ideas, and the printed data from the cryo-lab, Joe worked diligently for hours on what he thought would be the first step in the whole evidence collecting process. Scratching off the bad ideas and using the good ones, Joe closed his notebook for the night. He had a plan in motion. And just like Joe, he looked at every angle in his head before completing that plan. He felt strongly as he removed his glasses and stretched out his cramping fingers that he had begun to pave the road that would lead them to the knowledge they needed. It would be a different road than he had ever taken. The next day would begin the preparations. And after that, it would be time. Time to face the yesterday that would be the key to saving Beginning’s tomorrow.

  STEPPING BACK
. . . AGAIN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  November 22

  Letting out a loud tasting gasp of enjoyment, Joe twitched his head and looked down his coffee mug that he carried. “Good cup of coffee for once. It’s the bean lottery. I won.”

  Jason chuckled at Joe’s finding so much pleasure in his cup of java. “So you think we’ve perfected it?”

  “Yes. Now . . .” Joe smiled when he reached the door to the social hall. “Let’s hope everyone is here. You have them?”

  Jason lifted a stack of papers. “Ready and waiting.”

  “Let’s do this.” On a caffeine buzz brought on from lack of sleep, and shaking off those ripple bits he felt coming on, Joe opened the door and stepped into the social hall. “Morning,” He said.

  The buzzing of conversation stopped. Andrea and Trish were outnumbered by Frank, some of his security men, and a few other trusted males in Beginnings that made up the small group of fourteen waiting on Joe.

  Closing the door, Joe stepped forward. “I’m sorry to pull all of you from your workday. But this is important.” Joe waited until Jason stepped closer to the table. “After careful consideration, all of you, no matter what the outcome of this first step, all of you will be involved, some way, in the final project.” Midway Joe’s ‘prelude to continuing’ breathe, he saw Frank’s hand raise. “Yes, Frank?”

  “What’s the final project?”

  Joe winced. “I’m getting to that now.” After seeing Frank’s ‘got it’ thumbs up. Joe continued. “Now. What is said here today goes no further than these walls. The society as you know is a threat. However, it is a bigger threat than you realize. And with that knowledge, we have we must assume deadly. But . . . they are an enemy we do not know much about. We believe they have the means to wipe us out. And because of that, we are going to use Jason’s time machine to . . .”

  “Yes!” Frank excitedly cheered out. “We’re going back to wipe them out. Yes! Are we just stopping Henry from opening the wall or are we just gonna eliminate the plague all together?”

  “Christ. Frank!” Joe snapped. “We aren’t changing time. Now if you’d let me finish my goddamn speech you’ll know what we’re planning.” Joe looked at Jason, “Why did we include him?” Shaking his head Joe returned his views to the meeting. “Finalization of the plan is pending the outcome of this meeting. But, in a nutshell, we believe the means to finding the society and beating the society is buried, or hidden deep in Beginnings. Like our scientists once were.”

  Jason interjected. “But there has to be a point in time when it was open and not tucked away. We figure that vulnerable point is when they were setting it all up here. That is the point in time that we go.”

  “But,” Joe continued, “We have to find that point in time. We don’t want to guess and come here to early or too late. So we go back, back even further to start an information gathering. Use resources the old world had. Computers. Internet. Books. Magazines. Any and all information we can get . . . key society members. The population control conference. Cryogenics. We’re going to build a time line that we hope will give us the moving-in dates of the society.” Again, Joe saw Frank’s raised hand. “Yes, Frank?”

  “Can I go?”

  “No,” Joe answered. “Now we . ..”

  “Then why did you ask us here?”

  “To tell about the plan and determine who will go,” Joe tried to explain.

  “But it won’t be me,” Frank said.

  “I didn’t say that.” Joe shook his head.

  “Yes, you did. You said . . .”

  “Frank!” Joe lost it, ignored Jason’s snicker, and calmed himself down. “One of you people will go,” Joe explained. “It’s just a hard . . .” Eyes rolling slightly, knowing he’d kick himself for doing it, Joe called upon Frank who had his hand raised like a school boy. “What!”

  “Let me go,” Frank beckoned. “I’d do real good.”

  “I’m sure,” Joe said sarcastically. “But . . . like everyone else, you have to fill out Jason’s form, sort of like a time traveler application. The form will be filled out, placing your name on the back. Jason will review your answers and determine who goes by what you wrote down. Then when he makes the decision, he will see whose name is on the back.”

  “What if he cheats?” Frank asked so seriously.

  Almost wanting to cry and sounding like it, Joe dropped his head. “Why . . . why would you ask that? Why would he cheat Frank?”

  “Because he has favorites.”

  “And you certainly aren’t one of them that’s for sure,” Joe snapped back.

  “See,” Frank pointed out.

  The final grunt came from Joe, “Frank, just fill out the goddamn form like everyone else and shut up.”

  “Fine,” Frank slouched.

  “Jason.” Joe gave a motioned of his head.

  Jason began to pass out the forms. “If you don’t want to make the time trip, you don’t have to fill it out. I’ll review them all carefully and I assure you I will be fair. I know exactly what answers I’m looking for.” After he finished the handing out, he stepped to Joe. “Shouldn’t take them long,” He whispered.

  “Some.” Joe watched Frank take his questionnaire and sit at the farthest table alone, hovering his paper as if someone would peek. “Look at him,” Joe said with a hint of disgust. “Some people have personality conflicts. My son has an intelligence conflict going on right within his own self.” He let out a breath. “Thank God we won’t be sending him.”

  “I’ll read all answers. I’ll judge fairly,” Jason said. “So why do you say that?”

  “You just answered your own question. You’ll read all answers. And since most of them are common sense questions, think about it. Need I say more?” Joe pointed to his diligently working son. “It’s Frank.”

  ^^^^

  Quiet, all except for the helicopter noise that was so steady it was barely noticed. Solemn accompanied the silence to Beginnings. No one said much. The enthusiasm they carried with them to Nebraska failed to make the return trip.

  “About fifteen more minutes, guys,” Johnny said, adjusting the controls. He gave a quick smile to Sarge who sat next to him.

  “Impressive job of flying for such a youngster,” Sarge said loudly. “Did General Frank Slagel teach you the skill?”

  “No,” Johnny chuckled, “former President George Hadley used to be with us. He taught me.”

  “Begging everyone’s pardon!” Sarge spoke in his boisterous manner, “but the man was an asshole. I never voted for him.”

  Henry, trying to lighten the feel in the back of the chopper, raised his hand, and dropped it with a slap to his leg. “There you have it. Another person who didn’t vote for George. How did he become President?”

  A slight smile cracked upon Dean’s face. He sat next to Ellen, staring at their joined hands. His head was down, hair dangling.

  “Almost home,” Ellen whispered. “It’ll be all right. Joe . . . he’s going to be fine with this. I think he expects us to come back empty. Trust me, I know him. He plans for the worst.” Ellen swallowed following her words, discovering perhaps a reminder of their failure at that moment wasn’t a good idea.

  Dean’s free hand went to his face and he rubbed his eyes. “It’s not Joe I worry about facing. Not even the community. It’s my kids.” He spoke softly. “I know they have nothing to do with this. But how can I look into their faces without feeling some kind of pain that I may fail them.”

  Ellen’s eyes closed. She knew exactly what he meant. “It’s, um, too bad, huh, we can’t just take that letter and find the virus on it.”

  A scary silence came from Dean. Slowly with wide eyes, he looked up at her.

  “Stupid huh?” Ellen asked.

  Dean grinned widely.

  “Not stupid?”

  “El.” He grabbed her face and kissed her. “You’re so brilliant. You are the most brilliant person I know.” He kissed her again.

  “Wow, we re
ally can get the virus off the letter?”

  “No. But . . . yes. But not in that way.” Grabbing her face, he kissed her hard with a smack. “Excellent thinking. Thank you.” Instead of slouching with a frown, Dean sat up with a happy look on his face.

  After shifting her eyes around. Ellen looked over to Henry for answers of Dean’s suddenly changed demeanor but Henry was just as confused.

  ^^^^

  Surprisingly, all fourteen people were enthused and filled out the time traveler application. Aside from needing privacy to review them, Jason needed space to separate them into piles yet give him enough room to enjoy his coffee and cigarettes.

  All the applications had one thing in common. Everyone wrote in plain basic printing. Jason supposed that was probably because they feared not be chosen because of who they were. No one was really sure who Jason liked or didn’t. Jason didn’t like or mingle much with people.

  In his lab, at the far counter, Jason reviewed. His eyes would gaze upon the answers while his mind dove into the meaning behind them. He was on his seventh application. Jason read the answers and like he promised, he was being fair. He didn’t even try to guess who filled it out. After reading the seventh application he set it in the ‘maybe’ pile. He picked up the next application and immediately grinned with a gasp of shock. “Brilliant.” He spoke out loud. “Absolutely . . .” Another gasp as he went to the next answer. “My God. Brilliant.” Chuckling so impressed, he looked at what he thought was the hardest question. ‘Who is the Godfather of Time travel and why?’ and when Jason read the answer he was pleasantly shocked.

  He finished his review and placed that application not in the rejection or maybe piles, but off to the side by itself. It had too much merit to place into a measly maybe pile. Reaching for the next one, Jason paused. He had to do it. He had to read it again. It was too good. Reaching up, he looked at that fine application and basked in the brilliancy of the answers that impressed him so much.