by Siegel, Alex
"That's not a private jet," President Haley exclaimed. "That's a damned B-1B bomber!"
"The Air Force had a few spares," Ethel said sweetly, "so I took one. It's nice and roomy inside, and fast."
"I presume it's armed."
"Standard stuff. Flares, chaff, radar jammers, heat seekers, and a few Crackerjack missiles."
He stared at her. "Those are top secret prototypes."
"Correct." She nodded. "Four of them are in my plane. I promised you safe transport."
The group consisted of Aaron, Tawni, Ethel, Boreas, and Haley. Their footsteps echoed as they walked across the concrete floor of the hangar.
Two men were standing at attention beside the plane. They wore civilian clothes but their bearing was military.
Ethel introduced them. "This is my pilot, Tom. Will is the copilot and flight engineer. Tom, we have some extra passengers tonight. All of us are going to Washington, DC."
Tom was short and thin, but all the meat on him was muscle. He had a full head of light brown hair.
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "Which airport?"
"We want to make a very discreet entrance."
"Then I suggest Montgomery County." Tom turned to Haley. "I'm sure you've heard this before, but you look exactly like President Haley. It's amazing. You even have the right suit."
Haley smiled. "That's because I am President Haley."
"Huh?" Tom's eyes widened. "I had no idea you were a member of the Society."
"He's not!" Ethel said sharply.
Tom blushed. "I'm sorry, ma'am."
"My fault for not warning you. The President will be riding in the cockpit. Do not share our secrets with him."
"Yes, ma'am. I understand." Tom bobbed his head. "Sorry, again."
The open hatch of the aircraft was about twenty-five feet off the ground. Aaron looked for a staircase but didn't see one. A rope ladder was hanging down, and apparently, it was the means of entry. Everybody climbed up. The pilot and copilot took Haley straight to the cockpit.
The rest of the group went the other way. Aaron looked around with the eagerness of a child.
The Spartan accommodations in the first room disappointed him. The walls were made of sheet metal with thick ribs as reinforcement. Dull gray paint covered the metal. It looked like the interior of a bomber instead of a passenger aircraft. A dozen seats were bolted to the floor, and the cushions were covered with simple, black cloth. Ethel hadn't spent a dime on decoration.
"This is it?" Tawni said in a tone that indicated she shared Aaron's disappointment.
"I'll give you the tour after we take off," Ethel said. "Stow your gear. Strap it down in case the flight gets rough." She pointed to bins along the walls.
Everybody stripped off their weapons and armor. They quickly found seats when the jet engines started to spin up.
Big television screens were mounted on the front wall of the compartment. All of them turned on as the airplane began to move. Some showed video coming from cameras mounted on the exterior. Even though it was dark outside, the images were clear. Other screens showed radar, maps, weather, and live threat analysis. There was even a feed from the North American Aerospace Defense Command. Aaron didn't miss having windows. All the information he could want was right in front of him.
* * *
President Haley leaned back in his chair as the airplane took off. The awesome power of the four jet engines pushed him back into the cushions. In just a few seconds, they were in the air and soaring through the night.
Dense instrumentation covered the interior of the cockpit. He had a vague idea of what some of the controls were for, but most of it seemed designed for obscurity rather than clarity. The buttons and knobs were labeled with abbreviations. Tom and Will handled the equipment with confidence though.
"You mentioned the Society," Haley said. "What is it?"
Tom shook his head. "I really can't talk about that, sir. I'm sorry I used the word."
"You people have a lot of secrets."
"Yes. Secrets within secrets."
"It makes we wonder what you're up to," Haley said. "Why does Ethel need to fly in a heavily armed bomber? Why do all of you carry so many weapons? Where did your strange abilities come from? You talk and act like soldiers in a war. Who are you fighting?"
Tom was silent.
Haley looked at Will. The copilot was just as short and densely built as Tom, but Will had blond hair and was several years younger.
"If you won't talk about the Society," Haley said, "will you at least talk about yourselves? What's your background? You can trust me to keep a secret. I am the President, after all. I have received confidential information in the past."
After a long pause, Tom nodded. "I can tell you a little bit about myself, stuff that happened before I got this job."
Will gave him a sharp look but kept quiet.
"I was an Air Force pilot," Tom said. "I flew everything from F-16's to A-10's. Eventually, I became an instructor at Randolph Air Force Base. I usually flew the enemy aircraft that the students tried to shoot down. I had a standing offer to buy a bottle of wine for any student who beat me in a dogfight. It didn't happen often. Will was the only one who ever got two bottles."
Will glanced back. "I cheated. Tom was the best."
"You're not in the Air Force now," Haley said. "Did you retire?"
Tom shook his head. "I wish. Will and I were drinking some of that wine together when we caught a colonel raping one of the female students. He was a real tough guy. It took both of us to drag him off her. Then the fight got ugly. In the end, we were injured and he was dead. We were convicted on murder charges."
"What about the victim? Didn't she testify on your behalf?"
"She was too ashamed and pretended the rape never happened. Everybody knew the truth though. When we were in jail, a man came to us, Ethel's predecessor. He gave us this job. He was an interesting guy to work for. Very inconspicuous." Tom smiled as if he had told a joke.
"Are you bitter?" Haley said.
"Not at all. Sitting in this seat is the highest honor any pilot could ever receive. This is the most important aircraft in North America. What happened that night was a true blessing." He sounded completely sincere.
"What about Air Force One?" Haley said. "Isn't that the most important aircraft?"
Tom and Will gave him dismissive looks.
So that's how it is, Haley thought. "What happened to Ethel's predecessor? Did he die?"
"No," Tom said. "He was reassigned. Just relax, Mr. President. We'll be landing in an hour. You'll be home before you know it."
* * *
"We can begin the tour now," Ethel announced.
Tawni had already unbuckled her seat belt, and she jumped to her feet eagerly. She almost bumped into the legate in her excitement. Aaron got up in a more dignified manner. Boreas remained in his seat reading a magazine.
Ethel went through a door into the next compartment. "The armory," she announced.
Aaron and Tawni followed her into a small version of the armory back in headquarters. There was a nice assortment of body armor and weapons. The armor came in two sizes: small for Ethel and extra-extra-large for Boreas. The weapons were divided along similar lines. It seemed Boreas liked big machine guns.
Tawni noticed four identical, silver-plated machetes hanging on the wall. "I thought you only had one set of machetes, ma'am."
"I lead an active life," Ethel said. "Sometimes they get lost or damaged. I need spares."
Tawni felt a pang of disappointment. Knowing the machetes were replaceable detracted from the legend.
"Let's move along," Ethel said.
The three of them proceeded into what was clearly a conference room. A table made of clear plastic was strongly bolted to the deck. Six matching chairs were also fixed in place, but they could spin. A video camera hung from the ceiling on a movable arm, and television screens were attached to the walls.
A steel bookshelf held a complete set of
the tabella. The leather-bound tomes made the place feel like an official Society headquarters. Each volume had a year printed on the binding in golden Roman numerals, and they were in increments of five years. Iron bars kept the tabella from falling out when the plane turned.
"How is your Latin coming along?" Ethel asked Aaron.
"Fairly well, ma'am," he said. "I can usually get through a whole sentence without looking at the dictionary now. The verb conjugation still gives me fits. Norbert and I try to spend a couple of hours a day reading the tabella."
"Are you enjoying it yet?"
"I'm starting to. Some of the stories are extraordinary. I got a little tired of the medieval stuff, so I jumped ahead to the section on the American Revolutionary War. The names and locations are more familiar and interesting to me."
"Pop quiz," she said. "Tell me about the Declaration of Independence."
He smiled. "Yes, ma'am. Thomas Jefferson wrote the first draft and usually gets the credit as the main author. Probably the most famous sentence is the first line of the preamble. Let's see if I can remember the exact words. 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by God with certain unalienable rights, among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.'"
"Very close."
"It's a remarkable statement from a man who owned hundreds of slaves over the course of his life and sold them whenever he needed some quick cash. He also believed Native Americans should give up their traditional languages and religions and live like Europeans."
These revelations startled Tawni. She had always thought of Thomas Jefferson as one of the great advocates of freedom.
"In fact," Aaron said, "he never wrote that preamble, but let me back up a little. The Second Continental Congress was convened shortly after the Revolutionary War broke out. God's enemies saw an opportunity. They wanted to obliterate human rights by constructing a traditional European monarchy in the New World. They saw Thomas Jefferson as a conflicted man who could be turned to their cause. He was the delegate from Virginia."
He walked to the bookshelf and studied the tabella for a moment. He touched the leather binding on the one marked MDCCLXXV.
He continued, "Jefferson was far from home, far from his beautiful wife, and lonely. God's enemies chose a young prostitute as their tool. They put a special song in her head to trap Jefferson. She sang to him on the street one day, and he was instantly smitten.
"During the spring of 1776, he slept with her every night. Whenever his attention began to wander, she sang the song again. He couldn't escape. The prostitute was fiercely loyal to the British monarchy, and when they weren't fucking, she talked about kings and queens in the most romantic language. Slowly, his mind weakened.
"The Gray Spear Society had a cell in Philadelphia at the time. The legionnaires were keeping a close eye on the new Congress because of the obvious opportunities for mischief. They noticed Jefferson acting oddly and followed him to his hotel one night. As soon as they heard the prostitute sing, they knew something was wrong. The commander was a very wise woman. Her gift was the ability to hypnotize people with her eyes.
"The next night, she and her team went to the hotel. The prostitute was taken away. The commander spent all night talking with Jefferson. She kept him in a trance while she gently guided him back to sanity. The draft of the Declaration of Independence was lying on a desk. In a moment of inspiration, she wrote the famous line."
Ethel nodded. "Excellent. You pass the test."
"What happened to the prostitute?" Tawni said.
Aaron looked at her. "The Society silenced her song by pouring molten lead down her throat."
"Ouch!"
"Sometimes the old ways are the best," Ethel said. "Let's continue the tour."
The airplane got wider as they went farther back. They stepped into a narrow hallway with rooms on either side.
"That's Tom's bedroom." She pointed at a door. "Will sleeps on the other side. My room is at the back, but we're not going in there. Oh, this room is fun! Come look."
She opened another door, and everybody walked through. The room was empty except for a pedestal in the center. There was a single red button on top of the pedestal. Hundreds of small, dark holes were randomly scattered across the walls and ceiling. The floor sloped down to a drain in the corner.
"Press the button, Tawni," Ethel said.
Tawni looked at the red button anxiously.
"Press it," Ethel commanded.
"Yes, ma'am." Tawni pressed it.
She heard a whirring noise on all sides. Suddenly, red, rubber balls began to shoot from all the holes. They struck her skin hard enough to sting. She squealed and covered her head with her arms. The room offered nothing to hide behind, and she could only squat down to minimize her exposure.
The barrage ended after a short time. Ethel was laughing afterwards.
"I'm sorry," she said. "That was cruel. Funny, but cruel. You should've seen your face."
Tawni looked at Aaron. The commander had withstood the assault with more dignity. Red spots marked the exposed skin on his arms and face.
She stood up and tried to compose herself. "What is this room for, ma'am?"
All the rubber balls were rolling into the hole in the corner.
"I'll show you," Ethel said. "Stand back."
Aaron and Tawni gave her plenty of room.
Ethel took a few deep breaths and settled herself. She slapped the button.
The balls started flying. Her body bent and twisted at an impossible speed as she avoided getting hit. One instant she was sideways and the next she was upside-down. She contorted into positions that made Tawni cringe. The old lady was a freak.
The exercise ended after about fifteen seconds.
Ethel was panting. "Whew! That really stretches out the joints."
"That was unbelievable, ma'am," Tawni said.
"I'd say slicing a stone with a sword is unbelievable, but I watched you do that tonight. Come on. We'll end the tour with my little office in the sky."
They walked down the hall to a door with an electronic combination lock. There were nine white, plastic buttons in a grid but they weren't labeled.
"Strange lock," Aaron said.
"It's a reaction time lock," Ethel said. "The buttons light up randomly, and you have only fifty milliseconds to hit the right one."
She pressed a button on top marked "START." The buttons below began to flash white. Her finger was a blur as she pressed each one before it went dark. The sequence took only a second but included many buttons. Once again, Tawni was dazzled.
Ethel opened the door.
The group entered a small office with a gray steel desk and a few chairs. Gray file cabinets stood against the wall. All the furniture was bolted down and held with steel straps.
A white skeleton hung from the ceiling on thin cables. The head and body were human, but the arms and fingers were stretched out to form wings. Even though the wings were partially folded, they almost touched the walls on both sides.
Tawni stared in wonder. "Is that a real angel, ma'am?"
"Not quite," Ethel said. "He was the legatus legionis in the 1940's and 50's. Those wings were more than just for show. He loved to soar through the night sky like a giant bat. After he died, his successor had the skeleton cleaned and preserved. Since then, he's been the official mascot of the legate's airplane, whichever plane that is at the time. It's our way of keeping him in the sky. It's also a good reminder."
"Of what?"
"That even the mightiest legate is mortal. This angel died in a cave, buried alive."
Tawni grimaced.
She looked around the office, expecting to see more, but the furnishings were minimal. There wasn't even a window.
"This is it, ma'am?" she said.
"You seem disappointed," Ethel said. "My real office is in the Manhattan headquarters. That's where the interesting trophies are kept. This is just a place where I work while
I travel. I always have a lot of reading to do. All my commanders are required to write daily reports, and there is other correspondence." She paused. "I'll show you one more thing, darling."
She led Aaron and Tawni through the narrow passages of the airplane and down a ladder. They stepped into a low room that was clearly the original bomb bay. Two enormous bombs were held in clamps over doors on the bottom of the fuselage.
Tawni approached the bombs. They had radiation warning labels and military codes on the casings.
"Ma'am," she said nervously, "are these atomic bombs?"
"Thermonuclear," Ethel said. "Two megaton yield. Some problems require the ultimate solution. Fortunately, no legate has ever exercised this option, but all of us have it available. That's why we fly in bombers."
Tawni's hand was shaking as she touched the bomb. This is crazy, she thought.
"I knew you'd be impressed," Ethel said. "Let's go back to our seats. I want to catch up on my reports before we land."
"Yes, ma'am."
* * *
General Joseph walked into the dimly lit bar and looked around. Only a few patrons were drinking so late on a weekday. Their ruddy faces and stupefied expressions indicated they had been here for a while.
He spotted two people sitting in a back corner where the light was poor. That must be them, he thought.
Joseph looked around again to make sure nobody was watching him. He peeked out the door to reconfirm he hadn't been followed. Finally, he walked across the room.
He didn't know the names of the other Corners of Freedom, and he barely knew their faces. They had seen each other only once before at the introductory meeting.
As Joseph approached, he recognized the man and woman as the Second and Third Corners respectively. They were middle-aged but still physically fit. Joseph smiled and sat down.
A slender, young waitress came over. She wore a black dress with a short skirt and black stockings.
In a tired voice, she said, "What can I get for you?"
