by Clark Graham
The building had white cinderblock walls. Drop down florescent lights illuminated the halls and rooms. Every part of the building was cleaned regularly to keep dust at a minimum. Everyone who worked there also lived there, to limit the flow of information that left the complex. Phillip had just left his office and made his way down to where the Millennium Man lived. He had been ill of late and Phil was going to check up on him. It was the only reason he would venture to this part of the building. Otherwise he would gladly stay away.
The Marine guard scanned Phil’s badge, although he recognized him. When the machine dinged, the guard nodded his approval and then opened the door for Phil.
The room he entered into was brightly lit and full of medical equipment. Two doctors, five nurses and many medical assistants all stood around the bed of the patient. They had been trying to revive him for two hours. By the time Phil had arrived, they had given up.
The doctor turned to face Phil and just shook his head. “It’s over. There is nothing else we can do.”
“It can’t be over; in this time of terror threats, we need him more than ever,” Phil protested.
“He’s dead.” The doctor walked out of the room followed by most of the nurses and medical assistants.
The other doctor stayed. “Write this on your clipboard. Time of death, January 16th at 7:50 pm,” he said. He was Rick Allred, the best of the best when it came to medical doctors. Paying his huge salary was not a problem with the United States Government bankrolling the project. He had black hair and stood a couple of inches shorter than Phil. He was getting a slight pot belly, but at fifty -two, he didn’t care. He had no family close to him after his last divorce. He had no intention of starting over with another romance.
“What are we going to do?”
“Find the next one. “
Phil didn’t know what that meant. He had been hired after the Millennium Man was already here. “How do we do that?”
“Quickly. The Blues are playing god with us. They only make one Millennium Man at a time. Whoever it is, we have to find him and get him here before his powers fully develop.”
It was an alien race that they called the Blues. Even though their ships were undetectable by normal radar, the United States had developed a type of pulse radar that picked them up. The blips on the radar turned blue when it detected one of the alien ships. The name had stuck. They had no idea who the Blues were, only that they had the power to turn the human brain into something with telepathic abilities. This greatly enhanced the fight against terror, having someone who could find threats from afar.
The only problem is the Blues only did it to one person at a time, so the agency would find and kidnap that person. They had tried to mimic the alien technology a few times, but it only resulted in the death of the person they transplanted it into. The interface was so intermingled with the brain that massive brain swelling always resulted and death followed shortly after. The aliens had gotten around this somehow.
“What if they don’t make another one in the United States?” Phil wanted answers. He was supposed to be the Director of the operation, but he still had a lot to learn. The loss of the Millennium Man had come too soon.
“Let’s see, a man that can read everyone else’s mind, even from great distances suddenly appeared in the midst of an enemy regime? They would know all of our secrets and every move we were going to make before we made it. It would be a catastrophe. The very thought makes me shudder. We had better hope that they don’t do that. They have always made them here in the North America. We had one from Canada once. Kidnapping him in a foreign country and sneaking him across the border was a feat, let me tell you. Hopefully the aliens will pick a younger man this time. We seem to only get twenty years out of the Millennium Men we get, almost to the day.”
“I wasn’t here when we found the last one. I don’t know how to go about it,” Phil admitted.
“Any weird newspaper headlines about abductions or UFOs in the sky have to be followed up on in great detail. We have to capture the new Millennium Man before he figures out how to use the new power he is given. Otherwise he will know you are coming and you will never catch up with him.”
“When should I start looking?” Phil asked.
Dr. Allred looked down at his watch. “Now. As a matter of fact, I would not be going to bed tonight, if I were you.”
Phil got out his clipboard and jotted down a note about looking for UFOs and reported abductions. He then rushed up to his office and turned on his computer and started scanning the internet.
Dr. Allred also went to his office, but instead of scanning the internet he got on the phone and called his friend in the Air Force, General Morgan. “Hi, Fred, you know those blue radar blips that you are not supposed to talk about?”
“Yes?”
“I need you to track them and send me locations for any of them that stopped for more than ten minutes.”
There was silence over the phone for a few seconds and then the General said, “He’s dead, then?” It wasn’t the sound of sadness in his voice, but more of an annoyed sound.
“Yes, he’s gone.”
“I will send you the data.”
Table of Contents
A Loop in Time
Clark Graham
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Sample Chapter
Chapter 1: Montana
