by Janice Sims
“Mr. Johnson!” she exclaimed. “What would possess him to even broach a subject like that with you?”
“I was as surprised as you are,” he said as they lay in the dark, the room quiet, streetlights giving the room its only illumination.
He went on to relate Mr. Johnson’s experiences in Vietnam and his struggle to return to normal when he got home. She said, “Theirs is a wonderful love story. They told me some of this before. I’ve even seen pictures of them from that time.”
He continued with how Mr. Johnson’s tale had mirrored his own, ending with, “It was something about his willingness to embarrass himself just to help me that got to me, I guess. That, and when he said that self-affirmation crap about my brain belonging to me and I could tell it what to do... That made sense to the scientist in me. That if there is nothing physically wrong with me—and there isn’t—then what’s wrong is in my belief system. I believed they’d taken something from me, so I was rendered helpless. But if I can refuse to let them win by keeping me from doing something I want to, then I’m the one in control once more.”
“You talked yourself out of it,” she said happily.
He chuckled. “It was a combination of everything, really. But, yes, I suppose I did.”
She laughed, too. “You know what we should call Mr. Johnson from now on, don’t you?”
“What?” he asked.
“The sex guru,” she said. He shook the bed laughing.
When he’d finished laughing, something suddenly occurred to Alia. “Wait,” she cried. “Earlier when I asked you if you thought we might have disturbed the neighbors with the noise we were making, you laughed. That was because you were thinking Mr. Johnson was probably listening to us!”
That only made him chuckle harder. “Yes, and I hope he was entertained.”
“Honestly,” she scoffed. “This building is too well built. There’s no way he can hear us making love up here. He’s just pulling your leg!”
“Are you sure about that?” Adam asked skeptically.
Alia didn’t want to argue the point. She was too happy. She snuggled closer to him.
Seeing she was going to let the subject drop, her husband yawned, kissed the top of her head and said, “Merry Christmas, my love.”
She beamed at him. “You’re the best Christmas gift I’ve ever had.”
“Ditto,” he said.
She lay awake awhile thinking about the possibility of being overheard while making love, though. She didn’t know how she felt about their elderly neighbors hearing them, but decided the Johnsons had lived a long time and knew more about love than she’d ever learn.
She slept after that.
Chapter 10
About two weeks after Christmas, Adam and his team were in their lab at Bristol Institute of Technology, a private college in New York City with emphasis on the sciences and practical applications of technology, when they heard the news. Besides teaching at the institute, they worked in scientific research and development, their individual strengths enhancing one another’s. Earlier, they had discovered a way to interfere with a missile’s signal, thereby rendering it ineffective. Now they were back to another project they’d been working on: the problem of time. In some instances the flow of time is an absolute; in others the flow of time depends on the curvature of space-time and the space-time trajectory of the person doing the observing. Therefore, some scientists believed humans create time. Adam and his team were trying to prove that conjecture with mathematical equations.
They had a unique manner of working. Each scientist had his or her own space that they might spend time in entirely alone all day working on equations, as Adam did on a huge blackboard that rose up twelve feet in the high-ceilinged room. But even though they worked alone, they shared data and ideas throughout the day. They pooled their knowledge to come up with answers to the conundrums of the universe. Or that was how Adam thought of their methods, anyway.
It was around two in the afternoon when each scientist heard a musical tune like the repetitive ringing of bells coming from their laptops. Being techies, they were attuned to a variety of sounds coming from their electronics and rarely ignored them.
They didn’t this time, either, and discovered a group message from Colonel Edward Butler. The scientists grabbed their laptops and gathered at the huge center table in the lab, looking at each other with curious expressions.
Adam pondered the situation. What does the government want with us now?
They set their laptops down and in unison opened the message from Colonel Butler. It was a video from the colonel. His face appeared on the screen, his hair in a buzz cut now, but still steel gray. He didn’t smile in his greeting, so Adam assumed he had something serious to tell them.
“Dr. Braithwaite, Dr. Sharma, Dr. Aguilar and Dr. Hobbes, I’m making this video to give you an update on your case, and a fair warning about coming events. We were under the impression that you had been kidnapped by extremists, an offshoot of a Muslim terrorist group. We have since found out that the person responsible for your incarceration is a private businessman who own a munitions company. Yes, a weapons warlord who was afraid your invention was going to put him out of business, so he decided you had to be stopped. I’m sorry, we can’t disclose his name at this time. Rest assured, he’s in custody and won’t be causing you any more trouble. However, you are in for a media storm because now that we have figured out who was behind your kidnapping and your invention is safe from being stolen, I’ve been told the president is going to make a statement concerning your invention and will, as a gesture of thanks, give you a medal at the White House for your hard work.”
Adam almost cursed. A medal? He could see by the stunned expressions on his colleagues’ faces that they too were underwhelmed by this information.
Adam couldn’t protest to a recorded message, however, which was probably why Colonel Butler had decided to deliver it in that manner, so he kept his caustic comments to himself.
Colonel Butler continued to speak. “Travel arrangements will be made for you and a plus-one. Details will be messengered to your residences in a matter of hours. I certainly hope you’re adjusting well to your lives, and that you and your loved ones are in good health. I look forward to seeing you soon.”
The message ended, and Adam and the others stood around the meeting table looking at each other with shocked expressions on their faces.
“We can’t not show up,” Maritza said reasonably. “It will look as if we’re not loyal Americans.”
“Colonel Butler didn’t say anything about their disclosing that we were held prisoner for two years,” Adam pointed out. “Maybe revealing that would be embarrassing for the government. This is some publicity stunt to make the president look good. You know he’s going to take credit for the invention. He’s going to say he handpicked us. Personally, I don’t want to look like some kind of political flunky.”
“On the other hand,” Calvin said, “money will be pouring in to the institute, we’ll be rock stars, and since we’re the inventors, we’ll make more money than we’ve ever seen in our lives. To say nothing of the publicity. Late-night talk shows, morning shows and women, women, women!”
Maritza laughed. “I thought you were swearing off women for a while.”
“If my public wants me, I’m there,” said Calvin with a smile. He regarded Arjun, who hadn’t said a word. “Don’t you agree?”
“This reeks of manipulation,” Arjun said. “I’m with Adam. We need to define the parameters of this thing before we agree to do anything. What’s really in it for us? I missed out on two years with my family and Madhuri, and I’m not happy about that. Our families went through hell worrying about us, and the government wants to sweep what happened to us under the rug? That’s not right.”
Adam nodded. “Yeah, I’m not going to dance like a trained monkey for the government. I wa
nt assurances that we’re going to be treated with dignity and respect.”
Maritza pursed her lips, thinking. She sighed. “Okay. My family is also going through changes because of my absence. So what do we demand?”
“We tell them we’re not coming to the White House for a photo opportunity unless the American people are told what happened to us as a result of our taking the job that produced the new technology the government’s so excited about. We’ve done our part, now they need to do theirs,” Adam said vehemently.
“What if we do that and they get pissed off and I’m denied citizenship?” Calvin worried.
“Calvin, you’ve contributed positively to the American economy,” Adam told him. “You’ve proven that you’re an asset to this country. They’re not going to deny you citizenship. I went to school here on scholarship, wrote a couple of books that were popular, and applied for citizenship and was granted it. Your qualifications are as good as mine. Go ahead and apply and stop talking about it.”
Calvin laughed. “All right, already!”
“I think that makes sense,” Maritza said. Adam assumed she was referring to his suggestion on how they should proceed.
“Yes,” said Arjun. “Then we’re agreed?” His gaze was on Calvin.
Calvin’s head was bobbing up and down although he didn’t say anything. The others stared at him.
“Okay, okay,” he finally answered. “When do we phone Colonel Butler to give him our verdict?”
“Now’s as good a time as any,” Adam said. He took out his cell phone, which he had programmed with important numbers, one of which was Colonel Butler’s.
He was using the video feature, and since Colonel Butler’s phone was likewise equipped, the four of them gathered around Adam’s phone and saw Colonel Butler’s face in real time.
“I thought I’d hear from you soon,” Colonel Butler said. “I take it the president’s plans didn’t sit well with you all.”
“That’s an understatement,” Adam said. Then he asked, point-blank, “How is our kidnapping going to be handled, Colonel? There was no mention of it in your message.”
Colonel Butler cleared his throat nervously and squinted at their image on his phone. “The president has chosen to handle that at a later date.”
“Why?” Adam asked.
“Because the warlord is lawyering up and threatening to sue the US for false arrest.”
“I thought you had him dead to rights,” Arjun put in.
“All evidence points to him,” Colonel Butler allowed. “We have testimony from men who worked at the facility and named his right-hand man as their contact between the warlord and them. They took their orders from him. The warlord is claiming his right-hand man acted on his own.”
“So why does the president want to trot us out and make a big spectacle of the new technology when nothing’s settled yet?” Adam asked. “It’s political, isn’t it? The president is getting grief from all sides and he needs a big win. We’re not idiots, Colonel Butler. If our discovery goes mainstream, this could mean thousands of future American soldiers’ lives will be saved.”
“We’re talking the Nobel Peace Prize,” Arjun said. “Because this could change how wars are fought. As well as the Nobel Prize in Physics, because of making an outstanding contribution to mankind.” He looked at his colleagues. “Hey, I’m thinking big.”
Adam laughed shortly and turned his attention back to Colonel Butler. “What we’re trying to say, Colonel, is we want no part of this publicity stunt until the president agrees to tell the American people about our kidnapping, the length of time we were held and why the government took so long to rescue us. And we’re not budging on this.”
Colonel Butler let out a long sigh. Then he smiled. “Good man. I’ll relay the message and get back to you. It’s been my pleasure to speak with you all again.”
“It’s been ours, too, Colonel,” Adam told him with a smile.
After Adam ended the call, he regarded his fellow scientists. “It appears the colonel is sympathetic to our cause. Now, we wait.”
* * *
When Adam got home that evening, just as he was about to put his foot on the bottom stair and start climbing, he heard behind him, “Long time, no see!”
Immediately recognizing the jovial voice of J.Z., Adam smiled and turned around to face him. J.Z. pulled his hood down as he strode into the lobby. He was carrying a cloth carryall, which Adam figured he used for groceries.
It was true—he hadn’t seen J.Z. since the night of the Christmas party. He’d been very busy, and it wasn’t as if he were going to seek the man out and give him a report on whether or not his pep talk had worked or failed to inspire him. Still, he was genuinely glad to see him.
“J.Z.,” he exclaimed. “How are you? And how is the lovely Em?”
J.Z.’s brown eyes danced merrily and a slow smile curled his lips. “Fine, fine, thanks, Adam. How are you and Alia doing?”
“Great,” Adam said. “We couldn’t be better.”
“I’ll say,” J.Z. readily agreed. “Em and I are so happy for you. We expect invitations to the party, too.”
Adam resisted the urge to laugh uproariously. J.Z. truly was a character. He reminded him of his father, who could crack you up with just his observations of human behavior. “What party?” he asked, even though he knew what was coming.
“Why, the party where you two will make the announcement that you’re expecting a baby,” J.Z. said, not cracking a smile. It was as if he thought his prediction was written in stone, he was so sure of it.
Adam did laugh then. When he had control of himself again, he wiped a tear from the corner of his right eye and said, “I hope we didn’t disturb you and Em too much the night of the party.”
“Em and I got out the champagne and drank a toast to you.”
“Thank you, J.Z., or should I call you the sex guru? Courtesy of Alia Joie.”
J.Z. dissolved in a fit of laughter. “That’s a good one. Em’s going to get a kick out of it when I tell her.” He shook his head at the notion. “Well, see you, young man. God bless you and Alia.”
“You and Em, as well,” Adam returned before continuing up the stairs as J.Z. walked toward the elevator.
* * *
Alia was in the kitchen preparing dinner when she heard Adam come through the door. Putting down the knife she’d been using to chop hot peppers to go in the stir-fried chicken and vegetables, she hurried in his direction.
Adam grinned when he saw her. Her heart did a flip-flop. She never got tired of the sexy way he looked at her lately, like he couldn’t get enough of her. It felt like they were newly in love. She thought of this period in their life as a second honeymoon.
He’d shed his coat and hung it in the closet before she got to the foyer.
He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him, her short dress’s hem rising practically to her waist. They kissed hungrily. After all, it had been hours since they’d seen each other. Much too long.
Afterward, she slid down his hard body until her feet hit the foyer floor, and she smiled up at him. “How was your day, sweetie?”
His eyes alight with humor, he said, “Eventful.” He gave her a quick buss on the forehead and, as was their habit, they went to the kitchen and continued cooking dinner together.
He was washing up at the sink as he began telling her about his day. She took in his physical form while he talked. Since he’d been home, he’d regained around fifteen pounds of muscle. His energy level was back up to his liking, and he’d told her he felt comfortable at his new weight. She would love him either way, but was glad he was happy with himself. The thing she’d worried most about was his self-esteem. It scared her when he wasn’t sure of himself. She was so used to his being confident. That confidence was back. She could feel it coming off him. Or were those pheromones? Whatever it was, sh
e was drawn to it. He had on a dark gray long-sleeved cotton shirt, open at the collar, a pair of jeans that fit his athletic body perfectly and his favorite pair of Nikes. He dressed for comfort, not sex appeal, although with a body like his, he didn’t need to put in much of an effort. He was always sexy.
She realized she’d been daydreaming and snapped back to attention when he said something about going to the White House.
“They want us to come to Washington, DC, and do the patriotic thing while they ignore what we’ve been through. Do you think that’s fair?”
“Back up,” Alia told him, meeting his gaze. She turned the gas down on the stove where she’d been putting strips of skinless chicken breasts into the olive oil in the wok. “They want you all to come to the White House to get a medal for your work? What do you mean? You all succeeded? I thought part of your trauma was the fact that you hadn’t succeeded.”
“We were told to keep quiet until they determined who was trying to steal the plans,” he said. “I was sworn to secrecy. You know how the government can be.”
“Details,” Alia demanded. “What was the secret mission? I don’t even know what you all were working on.”
“A way to defuse missiles directed at military personnel,” he said. “We figured out how to direct a signal that makes the missile’s payload ineffective. No explosion on impact.”
“What? That’s amazing. That’s science fiction material!”
“Science fiction,” Adam said, smiling, “is now science fact.”
She went and hugged him. “Congratulations, babe.” Looking up at him with quiet reverence, she said, “I’m so proud of you.”
Adam blushed. She kissed his chin. “So they’re trying to hide the fact that you all were kidnapped, huh?”
“Obviously that part doesn’t look good for our president’s administration. We were kidnapped under the previous one. Seems to me if the president wanted to make himself look good, he would have sent someone to rescue us as soon as possible.”
