Hello Mr. Robinson Pt. 13

I picked out a full-sized Cadillac for our needs so that all four of us could drive in style and comfort. Before we set out the taller and darker of the two agents tossed me the backpack, she had been carrying around. Rhea whispered in my ear that it was my new gun rig. It was a custom build by an up and coming weapon smith contracted out by the White House as well as the Intelligence community at large. I slipped into the rest room and took off my shirt and hoodie. The rig took the form of two forearm weapons that were surprisingly slim and lightweight. I was told they fired a flat ceramic disc at ballistic speeds. I strapped them on, loaded them, and put the extra clips in my back pocket with my smart screen.

"Reminds me of a smaller version of a shuriken catapult." I muttered to whoever might be listening.

"You noticed too." Rhea replied from just outside. "But he is human, how could he have come in contact with the J'Nai or the Isani?"

"Can you drop a bug in someone's ear about this?" I asked as I finished the final adjustments of the rig. "At least it is comfy."

By the time I put my shirt and hoodie back on I found the Cadillac waiting for me outside. Rhea was behind the wheel. The radio was blaring 80's power ballads and the convertible roof was lowered. As she drove, I synced the weapons strapped on my arms with my HUD. The targeting reticule even offered shooting solutions. Was that part of my software or the weapons? I had never done this before.

"There's been another surge." Cronos announced as he tapped into Rhea's watch display to manifest. "Nothing severe yet, but I fear it will only get worse."

"I guess we should have taken that Black Hawk when it was offered." One of the female agents in the back cursed.

"Hold on," I growled at Rhea. "I... we could have taken a fucking Black Hawk to Winslow?"

"You were going for a quiet entrance." She fired back smiling. "Nothing screams we know you are there than as you put it a fucking Black Hawk."

"Oh man." I grumbled and looked out the window pouting. "I never see any cool shit."

"LIAR!" Rhea screamed and then fell silent knowing to mention the acquired alien spacecraft would be a secret even the POTUS didn't need to know about. "I call bullshit and you know why."

"Whatever." I laughed and blew her a kiss. "A fucking Black Hawk man..."

The next two and a half hours were spent singing, monitoring the power fluctuations, and getting a military satellite parked over Winslow. I thought of it as a perk of being Head of the A.I. Council. I was sure Nick, or the military wouldn't mind since Nick had more or less pulled a Howard Hughes and disappeared from public life. He didn't seem to care about anything lately. He was so far removed from things I wondered if he had even been brought in about Nemesis. Did he know the planet killer was out there? Did he care?

"What is bothering you?" Rhea asked. She hated seeing me down in the mouth.

"Nick."

"He'll get over it." Rhea offered seeing my worried expression.

"I've never been fired before." I admitted. "I was going to resign, but Yellowstone and all that going on. I worry about him."

"How is Cindy doing?" Rhea changed the subject with one of the few subjects I was willing to talk about.

"Pissed." I replied. "She has been heading the United Nations Council for the Preservation of Antiquities."

"Holy shit!" One of the agents exclaimed. "Why is she pissed? Sorry. I just... if it were me, I'd be thrilled. I always wanted to go on digs and..." She meandered to a halt and bit her lower lip.

"She thinks she got the appointment because of me." I answered her and looked over my shoulder taking in her genuine cuteness from a girl born in the heartland of the country. "Kansas?"

"Missouri." She replied. "St. Louis to be precise. I guess I'd feel cheated if I was just handed a job like that. Is it true? Is that why she got the job?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely." I bragged. "What she won't admit is that her I.Q. is off the charts. She has the accumulated recorded history of the entire planet in her head. She can read, speak, and write over twenty languages, six are considered dead by the academic community. And between you, me, and Cronos, two of them haven't even been identified yet."

"Greg!" Rhea growled. "Security clearance or not they don't want to know that. Just have to brag."

"Damn straight. I am proud of her." I admitted.

"Which two are you speaking of?" Cronos poked his head out of his digital dimension.

"Osirian and J'Nai." I continued as Rhea glared at me.

"You forgot Progenitor. It was my birthday gift to her this year." Cronos boasted.

"Three, my bad, are we there yet?" I fired across Rhea's bow.

"Fuck you... no... fuck both of you!" She cursed as she started the next song on her road trip play list.

There had only been three minor fluctuations in the grid since we hit the road. We piled out of the Cadillac right outside the Winslow police department. I feigned the need to stretch my legs because that is what you do after nearly three hours in a vehicle. I didn't need to, but it is what the two agents in the back were doing.

"I think my ass is asleep." One of the commented and my head swiveled around to take in the view.

"Down boy!" Rhea snapped drawing the attention of both agents as I checked out their backsides.

"I'm only human." I replied and she raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Partially human? I was born human damn it!"

"I won't hold that against you." Rhea said as the agents giggled and followed us inside.

They thought we were kidding. They were wrong, dead wrong. The agents took over and spoke with one of the officers out front. Rhea sat and waited. Cronos went to work and slid into the city's power grid. He cloned a version of himself into every key facility and began isolating the fluctuations. On the bright side all the vacillations were coming from one location. On the more interesting side they were below ground and near this building.

I looked up as St. Louis as I thought of her stood with arms out while a full spectrum scanner took a snapshot of her. Cronos sent me a file for my eyes only a few seconds later. It was a virtual model of St. Louis wearing only a slinky black bra and matching thong. I asked how the hell he could be so sure she was in fact a 36D. His reply was a series of recent purchases from a clothing store including the exact bra the virtual version of her was wearing. He added that he had hijacked the scanner to get a better look at my prospective copulation partner. He had monitored my vitals when she was bent over, and I had snuck a peek. The model was revised, and a naked version stood there and that is when I called bullshit.

'Oh, thee of little faith,' Cronos sent. 'I cloned the photos in her phone. No imagination or extrapolation required. She is accurate down to the mole on her left ass...'

"Greg? Why are you smiling?" Rhea cut in.

"Huh... oh no reason." I chuckled.

"Bullshit... give!" She demanded. I did. "Nice." She said softly. "I wonder if she's into girls?"

"Next." The police officer said and gestured for the second agent to step under the scanner.

It was like waiting to open a Christmas present. It was wrong and immoral, but damn it was fun. I saved both files along with the audio portions Cronos had collected during our drive here. He had plenty of sampling and it even included them singing as well.

"Mr. Robinson?" The officer called me over. "Mrs. Robinson?"

"Pfft! He wishes." Rhea fired off and everyone burst out laughing.

"Sorry." He said and directed us under the scanner. "You are both clean. Follow me."

"Clean. Not even close." Rhea continued. "The stories I could tell. Remember that five-star hotel in Greece?"

"I remember the four-star hotel, well... after we left." I added.

"You are correct sir." Rhea replied smiling. "I always get nervous when shit is about to hit the fan."

While most humans disregard their gut instinct, I had grown to cultivate it. So, when Rhea said shit was about to get real, I believed her. We met the police chief. He was a man in his late fifties, gray hair, a little thick in the middle, but you could see the intelligence in those hazel eyes of his. He walked us back to his office where a printout of Henry Arrow's file sat awaiting our briefing. The chief didn't know the real reason we were here and for now we'd have to leave him in the dark. The unfolding situation would dictate how much he and the rest of the police got to learn.

"Why are you really here?" Chief Terry Rivers asked sitting in his chair.

"For now, I need to talk to Mr. Arrow. I have to know what happened and how and when he got here." I said and that didn't seem to impress him so I added what I could. "Chief, can I call you chief?" I asked and he nodded. "Great. Okay, two months ago Henry Arrow, a world renown climatologist was working deep in the Antarctic. He went missing. He was believed dead. You don't vanish and survive that sort of environment. Here he is in Winslow Arizona. No digital trail of how he got here. His passport wasn't used. His bank account has been untouched. I've scanned every second of footage at every port of entry into this country. He isn't on any of it."

"I know facial recognition software has dramatically improved but..." He started and then fell silent. "Okay, if I accept that what you say is true, how did he get here?"

"That is one of the reasons why we are here." Rhea said.

"Good luck getting much out of him," the chief relayed to us. "He has fewer and fewer coherent moments. He was checked out by a local doctor but found nothing physically wrong with him. We haven't had time to get him to a psychologist yet. His family is on the way. We contacted a sister of his living in New York. She should arrive sometime today."

Henry Arrow was helped into the interview room. He looked to be in his mid to late fifties with light greying at the edge of his brown hair. When he had been brought in, he had a full beard, but he had asked to be shaved. His face was a road map of stress and a hard life. His body language screamed abuse or perhaps even torture. He kept his arms close to his chest, eyes cast down, and unwilling to make eye contact. He was in good shape and I thought the harsh climate of the Antarctic was responsible for that.

"Henry?" I began my voice soft and nonthreatening. No response. "Cold. Bright. Windy." I threw out words to describe the frozen landscape he had disappeared from. His head came up a little. "Ice cores. Ancient weather patterns. Permafrost." He was looking in my general direction now. "The sound of the drill's motor. The spinning cylinder cutting deep into the ice."

"The bit got stuck." He stammered. "Damn it Mike... slowly... pull it up slow we don't want to lose the core!" He growled as he remembered. "Good, I got it. Let's see what we hit." He said as he flinched. "The drill hit something in the ice." He continued and I realized he was talking to me. "We were deep in an ice cave. We were looking at ice that was at least a hundred thousand years old. It shouldn't have been there."

"What did you find?" I asked and we locked gazes.

"A chunk of metal, processed alloy... a computer chip." He said fighting the terror. "I touched it and it touched me."

"What did it show you?" I asked and one of the detectives entered the room with an armload of notebooks. "Let's see what you've written." I said and opened the top one. Many of the pages were incoherent scribblings but about one out of ten or so sheets showed deliberate drawings. Some of them appeared to be schematics while others were lines of alien script. The characters were too deliberate, and a clear pattern existed to be simple gibberish. "What is this Henry?"

"Knowledge. Technology. Their tech is their existence." He mumbled as he began to lose the fight to remain coherent.

"Rest." I said and his head dropped, and he closed his eyes. A few seconds later his breathing became regular. "He's asleep."

"Take him back." The Chief ordered and two detectives helped Henry back to his cell. I didn't miss the gentleness with which they treated him. If felt like he was less a prisoner and more someone in need of help.

I was about to ask about Henry's possessions when a figure burst in causing chaos in his path. I heard a title thrown around before I ever saw him, Mr. Mayor. He strode in as if he owned the place and his predatory smile gave me second thoughts of just how far I could trust him.

"You must be Greg Robinson; can I call you Greg?" He began when to my utter astonishment Rhea appeared behind him and her disposition was anything but happy.

"Step away from him and identify yourself." Rhea ordered with menace and threat aplenty.

"Do as she says," St. Louis backed her up as she reached for her weapon.

"Who are these people?" The Mayor asked as I grinned.

"The unarmed woman is my personal bodyguard. The other is a member of the Secret Service. I suggest you show some identification, or she might accidently do something unfortunate." I replied seeing his eyes narrow and his cheeks darken in rage. "I further suggest you move real slow."

"I am not used to being treated like this." The Mayor growled as he withdrew his wallet slowly.

"He walked right passed the scanner and refused to be scanned," St. Louis explained as she took his wallet and checked him identification. "I've shot people for less."

"I am the fucking Mayor here!" He roared in response. "I am not treated like a common..."

"His I.D. checks out." St. Louis ignored him and cut him off mid rant. "Here you go Mr. Mayor."

"I hope you will speak to her superiors about this." The Mayor growled as he took back his wallet.

"Damn straight I will. I will recommend her for a fucking medal." I fired back. "Listen Mr. Mayor... we got off on the wrong foot. Let's all take a step back, breathe, and tell me why you are here."

"I am here to oversee the operation." He replied. "Something as important as this should..."

"Do you have any experience with whatever is going on here?" I asked. "Have you even been briefed on what is going on here? What is the Mayor's security clearance?" I continued looking at St. Louis who smiled.

"Secret." She replied after a brief scan of the Mayor's file. "He is a businessman that got elected on a platform of reform, whatever that means."

"Okay, if you, and I am addressing any living breathing person within earshot of my voice, do not possess a Top Secret or higher security clearance please leave this room. I... what is it Mr. Mayor?"

"I must protest. I will bring it up with the Governor if I have to." He snapped and I looked at St. Louis and she shook her head. "What was that look for?"

"The Governor doesn't have a high enough clearance either. I didn't want to play who's got the biggest dick here, but you leave me no choice. Do you know who I am?" I asked my patience nearly exhausted.

"Yes." The Mayor replied. "You work with the President. You advise her."

"Good. Now. Think about this for a second. Why would the President send someone like me here?" I asked him and watched his expression do a series of walk on cameos. Anger stuck its head out, then fear, then curiosity, and finally understanding took the stage. "Yeah, now... get out." I said as calmly as I could.

They cleared the hall and Boston was kind enough to escort the Mayor out of the building. I sat down and wondered why the hell I put up with this shit. Oh yeah, saving the world. Where the fuck was I?

'The White House is calling.' Cronos chimed in. I took out my phone and answered the call.

"Hello."

"Greg. Hey. Listen." The Secretary of the Interior stammered. "I need a favor."

"Mr. Secretary." I replied with his title instead of Chuck. We weren't on the golf course after all.

"Dinner. Shmooze a little. Make him feel like he is helping out. Let him show you his photo collection. It is really impressive and weird." He begged.

"Fine. I will put things off for a few hours. I doubt things can escalate that much." I acquiesced. "You owe me."

Click.

"We are invited to dinner." I announced to Rhea and the agents. "Chief. Please have Henry's personal possessions ready for me when I get back... please."

"Thank you." The Chief replied looking like he had dodged a mortal blow. "We will have everything ready."

The four of us walked outside and the Mayor was waiting for us. His limo was idling in the street. We got in and drove the ten minutes to the Mayor's mansion. It didn't belong to him but in fact to the city of Winslow. You wouldn't know it by the way he acted. The historical structure had recently been restored and looked like we had stepped back to the height of the gold rush and the era of gunfighters. It was rustic on a grand and elegant scale. The Mayor gave us the grand tour and knew any item we chose to ask about. His knowledge was impressive.

"The Secretary said that I should ask you about your photo collection." I brought up and the Mayor's eye lit up and ushered us to the private wing of the first floor. He took out a key and unlocked a pair of double doors. With a dramatic gesture he pushed the two doors open and we saw a room dedicated to the least known mystery this side of Area 51. The wallpaper of the room was done in sections. Each section was a different photograph blown up and cropped to show the same selection of landscape. The odd thing that got your attention is that the room was clearly unfinished. There was a portion of one wall that was blank. Why?

"Let me walk you through the timeline." He happily declared as we stood in front of a black and white photo. "This is the first known photographic evidence of the ongoing event. It was taken in the mid 1880's. What do you see?"

"Not much," I admitted. "Just a rough outline."

"True." The Mayor chuckled. "Now we move onto the second photo. This was taken ten years later, as are all the others. Each photo is a decade removed from the one before it. What do you see here?"

"The shape is a little more defined and the ground looks darker. It is still black and white so I can't be sure."

The photos progressed and the shape became more and more defined. I didn't say anything, no one did. What we witnessed was impossible and made no damn sense. No wonder he kept it under lock and key. The first color photo was the most striking and disturbing. What we were looking at could only be the bottom portion of a ship's hull. The discoloration of the previous images must have been the rusty remains. The newer photos though showed more and more of a complete vessel. The last photo was taken in 2010 and most of the ship was intact.

"Clearly a temporal anomaly." Cronos declared as he swam up and away from my phone. "If these photos are in fact not fabrications the implications are alarming."

"That is a warship." I said as I looked at the gun placements. "World War Two?"

"Precisely. The name has finally been revealed." The Mayor said barely able to hold back his excitement. "I have been waiting for this my entire life. Ever since I was a child I've wanted to know if all the crazy theories were correct."

"So?" I asked letting him drag it out. He handed me a folded piece of paper and I read the name on it. "No fucking way!" I cursed. "How? My head hurts."

"Greg?" Rhea asked and I handed her the paper. She read it and passed it to the others.

"I don't know that name," St. Louis declared. "Should I?" She asked.

"Oh... my... god..." Boston stated in disbelief. "The Philadelphia Experiment... that ship is the Eldridge. According to official accounts it was scrapped back in 1999. I did a report on it for a history class. I compared conspiracy theories and official military records. According to the theories they tried to create a primitive form of stealth technology. Instead of turning the ship invisible it vanished and reappeared with some of the crew fused to the deck, bulkheads, and so on. I don't get it though. What the hell are we looking at here?"