Dean snapped his finger. “That’s it. Thanks, El. Joey. Where is he, Frank? What did you think? I wouldn’t notice you didn’t return my kid.”
Frank laughed. “You didn’t.”
“And you knew I wouldn’t, so you did it on purpose.” Dean turned his head to Ellen’s gasp. “What?”
“You wouldn’t notice your own son not coming home?” Ellen asked.
“No he wouldn’t.” Frank interjected. “Shameless father, which brings me to the reason for my visit. I have a proposition for you, Dean.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “This ought to be good. Go on.”
“Let me have Joey.”
“What!” Dean blasted.
“No, hear me out.” Frank held up his hand. “Let me have him. He and I, we have a bond. He looks just like me. Let me have your kid, Dean.”
“No!” Dean yelled.
“Come on, Dean. I can dress him up in baby cammies, make him a miniature Frank. No one will know.”
“Frank.” Dean barked. “Everyone will know if I just give you my kid. And no.”
“Come on Dean, let me have him.” Frank followed Dean around the lab. “Dean. The kid can successfully hang jump from the second floor window without injury. Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah, there’s something wrong with him.”
“Exactly.” Frank failed to hear the numerous sounds of shock come from Ellen. “So I should raise him. Give him up. He’s not your type of kid.”
“No, Frank, this is absurd. I can’t believe you just want me to give you my kid.” Dean said. “And you raising my kid isn’t even an option. I would like him to know how to read.”
“Dean,” Frank spoke with seriousness. “Have you talked to Joey? I don’t think he has that in him. I’m gonna have to go another route of skills.”
Dean bobbed his head. “You may have a point.”
“Oh my God! Enough!” Ellen exclaimed. “I can’t believe I’m standing here listening to this. Dean. Do you have a problem with Joey?”
“No,” Dean said in a defensive manner.
“Then why are you implying he’s not smart?” Ellen asked.
“Well . . .El.” Dean tilted his head.
Another gasp came from Ellen. “I have blood work.” She turned with a jolt. In her storm from the clinic she nearly barreled over Joe. “Excuse me, Joe.”
After watching Ellen whiz by, Joe stepped into the lab. “Is there a problem?”
Both Frank and Dean turned around.
“I thought maybe there was.” Joe walked in further. “We had a meeting in my office a half hour ago. So knowing this, Frank, why’s your jeep parked outside?”
Frank slowly shifted his eyes from Dean to Joe. “Um, because I can’t park inside?”
“Frank!” Joe yelled. “The question should be why are you here?”
“No, Dad.” Frank held up a finger. “The question should be, why are you here questioning me on why I’m here when both you and I should be there.” He nodded. “See?”
Dean raised his hand slightly. “Joe, as odd as this is, in Frank’s defense, why didn’t you just radio him?”
“I did.” Joe snapped. “I kept saying. ‘Frank, where are you?’”
“And I answered you,” Frank said, “every time you asked. I told you. Bakery. My office. Here.”
“Frank,” Joe stated his name with an eerie calm. “Get your ass up to my office for that meeting. We have the society and the Cleveland run to discuss. And Dean, since you’re supposed to stop by, you might as well hop a ride.” Joe started to leave.
“Joe? What for?” Dean asked.
Frank breathed out in irritation. “The meeting, Dean.”
“Not that.” After a quick glare to Frank, Dean looked back to Joe. “Why, uh, am I meeting with you guys? I’m not remembering. We did come through that machine yesterday. Time machine memory loss.” He tossed his hands up.
“That’s right.” Joe nodded. “When you returned from the nuclear holocaust.” Joe spoke as if he were talking to a three year old. “Dean. You’re supposed to give us a Marcus report.” After a pacifying smile, Joe gave one more nod and walked out.
“Oh, yeah.” Frank grinned. “We’re talking about killer babies. My favorite topic. And speaking of innocent children...”
“No.” Dean shook his head. “You’re not getting Joey.” He moved to the door. “Wait for me Frank. I just have to run down to the cryo-lab and get my Marcus notes. I won’t be long. Thanks.”
“O.K.” Frank nodded. And after Dean walked out so did Frank. He left the clinic and watched Dean head to the entrance of the tunnels, then Frank got in the jeep and drove off.
^^^^
“In excess of fifty-five miles per hour.” Dean laid down his notes as he sat in Joe’s office for the meeting. “And this is just a baby. Weather?” Dean fluttered his lips. “Not effected at all. We saw some deterioration in Marcus’ skin sample at three hundred and seventy-five degree, so in a sense you probably could burn them.”
Frank reached for the notes. “Or shoot them. But . . . we’d have to catch them first. Any guess on how fast they’ll move as adults?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t want to think about it.”
Henry’s whispering words caught their attention. “An indestructible army.”
Joe, Frank, and Dean, all looked to him.
Henry continued, “Not just workers, but a force indestructible that could march through anything, quickly too. The SUTS, that’s their first line of defense, having them around until these Marcus type people are ready. Remember they can only know one thing.”
Frank rubbed his eyes. “So basically our next generation is looking at a hell of a war.”
Dean chuckled emotionally. “Next generation? No Frank, this generation. These things grow fast. Right now Marcus has grown at six times the normal rate. At that rate, within three years they can have an army going. And how many embryos they created is not known either. We have one other problem. We have one hell of a generation gap here in Beginnings or hasn’t anyone noticed. Leaving out babies, we have a small group of children between the ages of four and ten, and three teenagers. Our median age for men here is thirty-five. Thirty-five is young to you and me, but we aren’t youthful men Frank. In five, six years, our young won’t be old enough to fight and our men may be losing their edge.”
Frank scoffed, “Speak for yourself, Dean.”
Joe, who had been silent, spoke up. “Though Dean has a point there’s nothing we can do about that. We just have to keep trying to find men for an army. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I do.” Frank spoke up. “We have about a hundred of those killer baby embryos. Grow our own army just like them.”
Joe winced. “They explode uteruses, Frank. Who’s gonna volunteer for that?”
Dean interjected. “I was actually thinking, after the virus stuff was over, of creating an artificial womb. If I’m successful, go that route.”
“Or use animals. How about a cow?” Frank added.
Dean gave a thinking look.
Joe cringed. “No. Even if we do that, who’s gonna raise these wild children?
Frank gave a wave out of his hand. “Hell with raising them. Pen them up, make them animals, then train them using shock therapy.”
“Frank,” Joe barked. “They’re humans for Christ sake.”
“Killer babies,” Frank corrected.
“Humans,” Joe reiterated. “Whether they eat live flesh or not, they are humans. Creating a lab army has to be out.”
Frank’s finger snapped as he stared blankly out. “What about using one already made?” He saw they didn’t understand what he meant. “Come on, you don’t know? Our SUTs? Henry what do you think?”
“Frank, they’re programmed already for the society.” Henry replied.
“So.” Frank said. “We reprogram them. Set up a SUT camp where we work with them. Robbie and I can train them. We have smart people here. Isn’t there
anyone that can figure out how to reprogram these things? This is perfect. They’re all different ages. They don’t know any better . . .”
Joe held up his hand. “Frank you’re getting ahead of yourself. I like the way you’re thinking. Make them our first line of defense. But I really don’t think that can be done either.”
Henry smiled. “Maybe it can, Joe. We have that microchip from the SUT Frank shot. Dean, could you give it to me? Let me work on it. See what I can do. I’m great with computers.”
Dean tossed his hands up. “Sure. But then what, Henry? Who are we going to implant it in to see if it works?”
Frank answered. “Another SUT. We’re bound to run into one especially with that Cleveland trip next week. We pick one up, drug him. Can you keep him alive Dean without that thing in his brain? That way if we remove his, Henry has two chips in case he screws up.”
Dean’s finger lifted in a thinking manner. “This could work. And it’s pretty good coming from you.”
“I’m the man,” Frank said. “We’ll build our own army yet even if we have to cheat to do . . .”
Robbie knocked once and stuck his head in the door. “Dean, your Barbie camper is parked.”
“My what?” Dean stood up puzzled then it hit him. “Oh my Mobile. Did you guys get it up there?”
“Yep.” Robbie nodded. “Let’s go, I brought the jeep. I know you’ve been waiting for it.”
“Thanks, Robbie.” Dean moved to the door. “I’ll uh . . . see you guys later.” Excited, he followed Robbie out.
Henry soon stood also. “I have some things to take care of too. Frank, make sure Dean gets that to me?”
“What?” Frank asked.
“Never mind. I’ll talk to Dean.” Henry left.
“About . . .” The door shut. “What?” Frank stood up and then snapped his finger. “Oh.” He closed his eyes. “I remember now. O.K.”
“He’s gone Frank.” Joe spoke.
“I know, I was thinking out loud. I understand myself better that way. I’m heading out too. I want to finish the Cleveland Run notes.” Frank started to leave.
Joe just nodded slowly watching his son walk to the door. He was grateful the meeting was over.
“Oh Dad? One more thing.”
“What’s that, Frank?” Joe asked.
“Isn’t it good to have Robbie here? Especially the Robbie we remember.” With a smile, Frank walked out.
“What?” Joe threw his hands in the air then saw his door open again and Frank poked his head in.
“Dad? Forget I said that. Thanks.” The door shut again.
^^^^
Dean was filled with excitement when he jumped from the jeep to see the huge CDC mobile parked nearby Jason’s lab. John Matoose was walking away from it when Dean approached. “Hey John, all secure?”
“Yep.” John took off his baseball cap, ran his hands through his balding, thin blonde hair and put the hat back on. “All situated. I’ll tell Henry he can start running the power lines through in the morning.”
Dean smoothed his hand on the outside of the silver tube-like building. “Any equipment in there?”
“We took it out. It’s up in storage with that other stuff you brought from Nebraska. You’ll have to hook it up when you’re powered up. Otherwise she’s clean. We even did like you said. We sent the one brain damaged field worker inside. He cleaned out all the specimens that could be dangerous.”
“Excellent.” Dean reached for the door.
“Dean? It’s kind of small in there.” John said leaning into him. “How are you three going to be quarantined in there for any length of time? There’s not even a real bathroom.”
Seeing Dean’s mouth open, Robbie filled the air with words. “Where you been. John?” He stepped closer to the mobile. “We’re bringing in one of the small security campers from the field. Hook it up to the side door. It should make it easy for Henry to power that up also. Gonna build a small protection tunnel.”
John nodded. “Good idea. Get with me later and we’ll work on moving it before you head out to Cleveland.”
“Will do.” Robbie watched John leave. “So Dean, you gonna check it out?”
“Um yeah.” He grabbed for the door. “You coming?”
“Nah, I’ll check out the outside of it.”
Dean, leaving Robbie be, opened up the door finally. The smell of old and dirt hit him immediately. It was tubular inside and out. There were two small labs. A normal set up. A working lab and an infectious special lab were separated by a glass wall. The closet size decontamination room was adjacent to the lab behind the glass. Rubbing the coldness from his hands, Dean stepped further in. He stood in the bigger lab he supposed they’d do a lot of their paper work in. It was dark. The main window that took up the whole one end of the building was so dirty it blocked out any sunlight. When John said it was clean, what he really meant was empty. The mobile would have to be scrubbed down completely. Dirt so thick gathered everywhere around the blue and white interior. Thinking how much nicer the military special units were, Dean ran his freezing hand down the blackened counter-top. Bringing his fingers to his view, he heard the loud metal thump above his head. The thump turned into several, spanning across the length of the mobile. Looking up to the ceiling, Dean’s ears rang with the steady heavy hits. “What the hell?” He stepped back out and looked up. “Robbie! What are you doing?”
Robbie slammed his foot against the roof of the mobile. “Making sure this thing is air tight. If you’re going to be bringing back some killer virus from the future, it better be.”
“It won’t be if you keep banging your feet up there. Get down!” Dean scolded.
“All right.” With a four step run, Robbie leaped from the top of the mobile landing on the grass by Dean.
“Geez, Robbie, you’re gonna break your leg again.”
“Nah. I’m too cool. Hey I’m heading back to do my test. Want me to drive you to town?”
Dean closed the door to the mobile lab. “I’ll take a lift.” As he walked to the jeep he looked back at the distance that Robbie had leaped, a distance had anyone else done they would have shattered their ankles. Chalking it up to it being a Slagel thing, Dean got in the jeep. He watched Robbie through the corner of his eye as they drove back. Robbie popped a cassette into the jeep’s player, turned up the volume, bobbed his head with a grin, and sang as he peeled out. An air of arrogance surrounded Robbie but it was coupled with something else, a childlike enthusiasm lost to most men in the world gone bad. It was so hard to believe to Dean that this Robbie was the same one who beat him to a pulp and shot Frank. In actuality, he wasn’t. And even though Dean was still in a game of mind ping-pong about trusting Robbie, he knew before long he would stay steady at one side of the table, the side with Ellen and everyone else in Beginnings. There was something innocently genuine about this Robbie Slagel. And Dean liked him. He really liked him.
^^^^
Former Quantico Marine Headquarters
The large auditorium was crowded, packed with every man that could attend what George was calling the ‘town meeting’. Every seat was taken and the men who stood were crammed in the back to listen to the president. All of them held onto a newsletter of sorts given to them.
George wore blue jeans and a simple tee shirt. His work boots were dirty and his hair not as neatly combed. He sat in a lean against a long table before the room. Relaxed and honest was what George wanted to portray. And he looked the part.
“That friend.” George pointed then brought his hands back to a fold. “I want to be that friend. I want . . . I want to be the father you can come to in the middle of the night. Any time. I am here.” He slowly stood up. “That was the way I ran my presidency. This is the way I want to be with you. Many of you have questions. Hell, so would I. I don’t cringe when Mr. Lange brings me the contents of the suggestion box. No.” George shook his head. “I welcome the feedback. Welcome it. And I read every single one. Now . . .” George stopped pacing aga
in. “I may not be able to address every concern but that is what the weekly meetings are for. To try. You men are here by choice and by God, we are grateful. What we plan to do cannot be done without you. The number one question is why we are not calling ourselves the United States. Think about it. Take the word apart. United. United. Are we united?” George shook his head. “No. The Caceres society was an organization who planned and stockpiled for such a situation as we faced. For years they planned and set in motion where and when to be. What took so long to get you? It has taken years to get to the point where we are even able to offer you anything. I myself was taken prisoner for a while. But . . .” George sighed heavily. “That is not your concern. You’re here. Food... well, we must ration. But that is only until we get things running. We are a country ravished by plague. We have groups of survivors who are selfish, who want no part of the new order. We have survivors I call savages who run around in loin cloths defiling the memory of our great American Indian ancestors. These are obstacles. You ask, some of you, where the women are. Need I answer that with the savages running around? They are safe and secure, placed in what we like to call . . .” George smiled. “…a spoiling community, pampered and treasured like the valuable assets they are.” He reached behind him for a clipboard. “Some of you have asked why survivors are taken against their will. Well, under the laws of this nation the government may seize any land they see fit. If it is farmed and fertile, we must take it. We must feed those who are here to rebuild. You are our future.” George set the clipboard down. “We have to rebuild technology, strength, agriculture and most of all we must build an army great enough to defend this land. Why?” Stopping, George took a relaxing seat on the table. “This country fed seventy-five percent of the world. This country is ours. If we do not build to defend it, if we do not unify in the name of the Caceres Society, then where do we stand? How long will it be before other countries build and gather the technology to come over here and take what is ours? We cannot let that happen. Our greatest defense will be readiness.” George caught the subtle clearing of the throat. Then with the shifting of his eyes, he saw Steward standing to his right in the exit door. And behind Steward was a very dirty Sgt. Hemsley. George stood up. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” With a nod, he walked around the table and toward Steward at the exit.
State of Time: Beginnings Series Book 6 Page 4
