VIRTUAL SEASONS EPISODES

PROLOGUE

“Art is man’s nature. Nature is God’s art.” Or so my English lit professor kept lecturing us students and nothing that stretched before me led me to any alternative conclusion. Below were the endless rows of ponderosa pines running to the horizon and above was a majestic rocky hillside of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. God had done wonders in this little section of California. Peaks rose above us like some great medieval cathedral. My comrades and I trudged forward over the hard and loose rocky surface where our feet would probably never forgive us. Even though I felt the spirit of nature all around me and my aching feet below me, I kept my personal complaints from my fellow USC students. Needing plant specimens for a joint advanced biology project, the four of us were hiking along the tree line somewhere near the Nevada state line.

“How about taking a break?” asked Valerie Barnes the dark-haired primitive culture student from Yakima, Washington. Without receiving a reply she sat down on the nearest boulder sighing as her backpack dropped to the ground.

Quickly agreeing with her loss of energy, I too joined her along the side of the trail while reaching for my war surplus canteen.

“Ladies! We have to reach the Lookout Point shelter by noon to keep to our schedule,” exclaimed John Ross, the rich, always-in-charge engineering student with the wallet as thick as my personal copy of Peyton Place.

Putting back my canteen I looked cross-eyed at him saying, “Leave her alone, Ross. We’re not all basketball stars. If we keep moving we’ll make it with time to spare.” I said trying to sound positive. Unfortunately this whole outing was my idea and I was more interested in strolling through Huntington Gardens rather than hiking up Mount Ararat.

“Hey, if Valerie and Pamie need a moment, then I say we should let them have it. Let the ladies catch up with us gentlemen,” said Bobby Wentworth who thought he was every girl’s answer to Cary Grant. Being from the wilds of Rhode Island, this Ivy League bookworm probably didn’t mind the extra rest stop any more than Valerie and me. “Even I could use a spot of rest right now. May I sit beside you here, my dear?”

“It’s the wide open spaces, mountain man!” replied Valerie. “Didn’t think the air would be so thin. And that beautiful sun isn’t warming us up one bit.” She removed the scarf that had tied up her hair and wrapped it all completely around her head. “Definitely heading to the beach next time. I’ve had enough of the mountains.”

“Should have left you back at the sorority having a tea party. Miss Debutant doesn’t like the accommodations!” sneered John Ross as he quickly looked away.

“Even Edmund Hillary would have trouble on these loose rocks. I really didn’t think it would be this cold this late in the summer,” I said trying to sound more prepared than I really was. I was expecting early May and not March at 9800 feet above the calm and WARM Pacific waters.

“Look Princess! You can get room service back in that sorority in Frisco. Here it’s every man for himself. And that includes you two Lazy Susans!” snapped Mr. Hot Shot.

A light went off in Valerie’s head as she shot up with fists flying. “You big over-stuffed gorilla! I can take care of myself.”

John grabbed her wrists as Bobby stepped in between them. “Hold on. Easy does it, old chaps. I think this cold has clipped off a bit of our nerves. Maybe General Patton is right and we should be on our way.”

John threw down Valerie’s wrists and just sneered a bit. Her eyes blazed at him while I just stood up hoping this whole thing would be over soon though I still gave Valerie and John about a twenty percent chance of walking down the aisle before the decade was out. Never had I seen someone bring out the fire in her before, though I wouldn’t mind dumping the punch bowl over our un-elected leader’s head either. Valerie picked up her pack with disgust, put it on and took a few steps up the hill and then stopped suddenly. She looked like she was a bit weak in the knees as she groaned slightly and then shook her head.

“Are you coming?” called back John who had marched ahead leaving the three of us behind.

Shaking her head she weakly asked, “What was that you said?” as she frisked herself and looked both up and down the mountain. Then she pulled at her pack straps and looked at the pack behind her mumbling something to herself.

“Valerie, HONEY! I asked if you were coming!” shouted back John, as Bobby looked on concerned. I came up behind her.

“Yes, just a moment I need to get my breath!” she said huffing and puffing.

“You all right, Val?” I asked.

“Yea, fine. Fit as a fiddle!” she said reassuring me while patting my arm. She shook her head again a couple of times.

“But you just had a break a moment ago,” I replied looking funny at my friend.

“Yes, and I will be fine in just a minute. All this fresh mountain air!” she said giving me the biggest grin I had ever seen on her. Moments ago she had fists flying. Valerie was not known for quick mood changes.

“We established that a minute ago, Val. Where have you been?” I asked now sounding as worried as I felt.

Pointing at me in an unfamiliar gesture she replied, “You’d be surprised. If we have to get going, then let’s head off. You guys take the lead. Let’s hit the open trail. Head ’em up and move ‘em out!” she said pointing toward John and up the trial. After several steps under her breath I heard her mumble to herself, “Wherever THAT may be! Oh boy!”

PART ONE

Near Fremont, Nevada

August 23, 1957

The tree line descended below us as we headed up along the rocky hillside. John and Bobby led the way while I brought up the rear behind Valerie. Even though we had been walking for hours Valerie must have had her second wind. Her gait lengthened and she had lost a bit of the femininity in her stride that usually got other Joe’s attention. It must be the high altitude that made her look that way. Even though the entire group remained fairly quiet due to the tiring climb, Valerie seemed to continue to talk to herself. Nothing very distinctive, just more complaining than usual. Suddenly while trekking around a big boulder, Valerie’s face lit up in recognition, though nothing was right next to her. Then her eyes lit up and she asked for a break.

“Just a minute, cutie. You don’t look like you need it,” said John stopping to light a cigarette.

“Be back in a minute,” Valerie said with a big smile as she hopped off the path and then ran behind a big rock. Bobby, John, and I just leaned up against boulders and waited. There were plenty of places to sit right by the path. 

“Hey, Miss Molasses. Get back up here! We can take the break later. Oh, Judas Priest! I’ll go down and get her!” yelled John sounding thoroughly disgusted.

“No, wait. It might be a bit embarrassing! I’ll get her!” I begged as I stumbled over the boulders trying to find the route down the side of the hill.

Bobby scratched his head. “Still a couple more miles before we get to our rest bit,” he said looking over his map.

“I’ll get her!” I called back as I made my way toward a rather tall boulder. Valerie was talking quite loudly at someone, but whom would she have rendezvoused with so far out in the sticks? I thought she was the least qualified outdoorsman in our group.

“You’ve got to come up with some more information! Outside of collecting sores on the bottom of our feet, we . . . Oh hi …!” said Valerie stopping very embarrassed. She had dropped her pack next to her and was just talking to the wind. She looked quickly to her left and seemed to finish her sentence. “Pamela!”

Shrugging my shoulders, I asked what she was doing down here among the boulder field.

“Just needing a minute for myself,” she said shaking her head with an embarrassed look on her face. “Stop that!” she said quietly under her breath.

“What is it?” I asked, “That I am supposed to stop doing, Valerie dear. What is bothering you?”

“Forget it. Just the fine country here. Really great. And we should get going. Off to Lookout Point. Just over that ridge,” she pointed! “I know where…”

“Val! You were the one who wanted to be led there,” I replied wondering about her change of heart. Of course, it would be nice if one of us Maid Marians could push aside our conceited Robin Hood.

“Let just say I stopped for directions,” Val replied heading up the hill still seeming to talk to someone.

“Ready to rejoin us, Princess Grace? Care to hobnob with the commoners? We got another hour’s trek ahead of us!” said John Ross sounding more like John Wayne.

“Nope. More like 27.4 minutes. I mean about another half hour just over that ridge!” Valerie said pointing the way. “No problem!” she said sounding much more confident than earlier.

Almost twenty-seven minutes later on the nose we reached the rough log-built lookout that was our only sign of civilization in the middle of God’s wilderness perched on a rocky outcrop.

“OK troops. Break out for lunch. Ladies, if you please. I have some business to attend to,” ordered John.

“Even makes that sound important! Bet you he becomes the vice-president of nothing much that matters in some big plane factory or at steel mill in charge of the hot air,” I said sounding a bit off. I thought he might have lost his male superiority attitude once we had gotten away from his usual male friends, but he kept proving me wrong.

Valerie unloaded food from her backpack.  “Sometimes people just need a little wind let out of their sails,” Val said when looking up suddenly.

Bobby looked worried. “Did you hear something? Maybe like a mountain lion?”

“No, worse,” mumbled Valerie as she headed up the hill and into the trees away from our impromptu picnic.

“She sure seems a bit rattled today. Never knew her to be so unsteady!” said Bobby who gallantly began to help me unload the lunch.

Shaking my head I replied, “I think a spook got into her. Never knew somebody could be so haunted!”

“Maybe it’s just the thin air, dumpling,” replied Bobby.

“Stop blaming everything on that,” I replied. “Next year I am definitely heading for the beach. Alone."

“Then has she had any medical problem?” he asked with a quizzical look on his face.

“Nope, strong as a horse,” I replied having known her at USC for three years.

John returned. “Hope that’s not all for lunch. Where has Miss Prissy run off to this time?”

“Up the hill and talking to herself again! You’d think that Harvey was paying her a visit. All six foot three rabbit and invisible, too,” gaffed Bobby as he grabbed a sandwich.

“Just don’t let her get lost. She could easily fall down and we’d be stuck dragging her back or spending the next three nights in the ranger station. Just can’t take broads to the woods. Well, it’s about time,” John hissed as Valerie came from around the tree.

“Back to stay unless something else happens. You know I don’t think this is the right way. I think our best route would be in,” she said stammering and looking to her left. “Down in Watcher’s Glen. About four point eight miles that way. The diversity of the flora and fauna is amazing. Nothing really up that way,” said Val waving down the path we had been walking all day.

“And what makes you the little botanist, Miss Barnes? We all agreed to this way. I have my timetable and that would really screw us up,” complained John as he grabbed another sandwich.

“Well, I was reading it in… uh,” she said looking again to the left again. “California Wilderness Journal. October 4, 1955. Wonderful site. Up there are just more and uh… more rocks!  Rocks, rocks and more rocks! I could use the breather and heading downhill is the ticket.”

“I could do without slipping on those loose rocks,” I replied thinking that maybe we should have decided on another route. “And some down hill trekking would be nice.”

“Pamie, I’m with John. If we’ve already put in the mileage why should we double back on a whim? We’ve been heading uphill all morning, love,” replied Bobby.

“Up? Heights. Scared of heights. I think I’ll do better down among the trees, guys!” said Val trying to eat a bite of lunch. “And . . . and. . . we can. . .”

“No, Valerie! WE have our minds made up. Desmond Hollow is our destination. Your way we’ll double back and we won’t get back before dark. You might break a heel in the dark, sweetheart,” snapped John looking quite disgusted.

Val surprisingly looked down. “See no heels. Who’ll wear them in the forest anyway?”

“Just making a point, little sister,” sneered John.

“Well, it so happens we have a short rise and then down the creek bed and to Watcher’s Glen. Nothing to it,” said Val working on an egg salad sandwich.

“Desmond Hollow is where we’re going, princess. That way looks way too steep. Trail blazing doesn’t look like your style, Sacagawea. Now pack up this grip and let’s gets moving!” John said without further discussion.

“Why can’t we change it? Let’s get out of this cold mountain air. Heading downhill makes sense. Is everything about this trip written in stone?” I said still fed up with the chip on John’s shoulder. I wish I could teach him a lesson or two.

“I must agree that we have had quite a bit of that, Missy. Maybe she is right, John old boy,” said Bobby who seems to have jumped sides after John’s last rant.

John uncrossed his arms looking quite angry. “Great! Do you want to follow these little girls all your life, Romero?’

“There is something appealing about idea, old chap. I must say there is some bit of charm in that idea. Women do add a bit of spark and mystery to a chap’s life. Let me help you with that my dear,” Bobbie said as he folded up the picnic blanket.

Valerie looked a bit amused as we headed down the mountain.

PART TWO

“I still think that they should ban the H bomb. Before we know it will blow up the whole world,” I argued in a lively discussion.

“I think we’ll be around for quite sometime. We’ll overcome our worst instincts,” Val said looking quite confident even though she usually preferred talking about her future prospects rather than the future of humanity.

“Val? When did you join the ranks of the doves?” I said looking surprised.

“We have to keep our military strength if we want to stay ahead of those damn Commies!” exclaimed John.

“That’s the argument of the bully, John. Sure the biggest fish in the pond is king, but I think our ideals are little better than that!” I retorted with the optimism I had been brought up with.

John got hot headed for the millionth time, “Yea. But those Commie bastards just want to bring the whole world down to their level, Pamie. We need to . . .”

Val shook her head. “Nope. I’ll bet they are just as scared as us. They are just posturing to make it look like they are better than us. No one really wants to destroy the world they also occupy.”

“My, such big ideas from such a fair lady, my dear,” exclaimed Bobbie. “You must read a lot.”

“Nope. Just a lot of life experiences!” Val stated.

“I wondered how much a girl from Washington State could have…” I said as my feet began to shake and the ground wobbled beneath me. It felt like a subway coming from a distance and then passing directly underneath you. “Earthquake! And not a small one!” I screamed grabbing onto Val.

“What the hell?” screamed John.  He looked every which way and couldn’t decide which way to run.

“Now what the HELL are we in for?” yelled a rattled and frightened Bobby.

The rumbling reached a crescendo and then stopped while my legs did not seem to realize it and kept shaking. Everything was silent as even the birds were taking a pause.

“Everyone all right?” asked Val who had been through a few of them back in Oakland.

“Of course!” exclaimed Bobbie who stood up straight regaining his composure.

“Never better,” replied John though the look in his eyes did not match the confidence in his voice.

Looking around everyone seemed all right. Nothing around was ready to fall on us and the ground had not opened up. “Let’s get back. This is enough of a demonstration from nature for me today!”

“Ditto!” replied Val sounding a bit relieved.

“Wait, I hear something!” explained Bobby looking over toward Desmond Hollow. “Not another tremor just . . . Look!” he said pointing north.

The sound took longer to reach us, but we could see the whole hillside above Desmond Hollow had collapsed, sending a torrent of rock hidden by the dust and sounding like a tornado descending the hillside.  Though we couldn’t feel the vibrations, the path of destruction went straight to our hearts. Nothing survived the onslaught as it denuded the hillside and landed at the bottom of the hill in Desmond Hollow. Though we couldn’t see what happened to the grove of trees, a grayish cloud of dust rose from it.

“Judas Priest! Never saw that much destruction before! Must have been a million tons of rock!” exclaimed John as he began to perspire heavily.

“Quite a show I must say. So glad that we were here!” said Bobbie wiping his brow.

“Gentlemen, we were going to be there! Just about now to John’s schedule. Look at the map. That’s Desmond Hollow at the based of Gobbler’s Ridge! WE were going to be there when that avalanche occurred. We would be dead now!” I said with more than a bit of quivering in my voice.

“Good golly, Miss Molly! You just might be right,” said John now wiping his usually immaculate brow.

“And you have Val to thank for that!” I said sounding very proud of my friend.

Trying to recover John snapped back “I really don’t think that Tinker Bell here really saved us.”

“Oh yeah? Going your stupid way would have gotten us killed! You saw that avalanche!” I screamed pointing toward the still visible column of dust.

“And whose idea was this little jaunt in the first place?” Mr. Big Shot retorted.

Val jumped in between us and pushed us apart. “We’re OK and that’s the important thing. Just thank the Lord and let’s get home!”

“Amen to that!” replied Bobby looking up to the sky.

“Just how did you know?” I asked Val looking deep into her eyes. “You did know, didn’t you?”

“No, not really. Just a little feeling. I don’t know. Oh, a little psychic, I guess.” Val said looking a bit humble and then worried.

“Now what?” I asked not needing any more surprises.
“Move!” screamed Val. “Everyone out of the creek bed, the higher the better!” She pointed frantically toward the vine-covered shore.

An indistinct sound could be heard in the distance.

Chief John was the first up the side of the creek. Splat! The mud covered me as I sank in half way hanging onto Val. The shaking got worst and the land seemed to start rolling in waves. Some nearby trees cracked and snapped. The water on the creek behind us suddenly receded.

“Not a good sign. Is a good spot?” asked Val to the sky. “Good! Until the what? Hey guys! Get up. We could get a flash flood!” cried out Val as she pointed up stream. “Run!”

Easier said than done, as the ground still shook crazily. Two new sounds could be heard. One was a cascading of rocks coming from the north, not far from Desmond Hollow! It began as a low growl and then it sounded like an express train. We ran away from the creek and up a ten-foot embankment. The second sound was that of rushing water as it came down the creek bed. The water that had disappeared was coming back in the wall-like rush of a flash flood. We each ran over to the trees and grabbed on to a trunk.

“Hang on tight!” called out Val. The water was going to be on us in seconds.

“How do you know?” asked Bobby.

“Just trust me!” yelled Val over the noise.

A mass of roiling trees and debris lead the way for the big brown mass of water behind. It looked strangely alive in the onslaught. We were just high enough for it to rumble past us. After three or four minutes the roar calmed down, but the water level stayed very high.

“Val, are you out for sainthood? Anything else we should know about?” I asked. “Is the world ending next? World War III? Anything?”

         “No, I think you have at least the rest of the century. Shouldn’t we get back?” asked Val brushing herself off nonchalantly.

         “Amen. Two close calls in one day? Life should smell much sweeter from now on! I think I will go home and write a book about you being a psychic, Val,” I said hugging her gently. She seemed very special and a bit different than normal this trip.

“Don’t make too much of it,” said Val looking even more embarrassed.

“I really think we should give three cheers to our friend Valerie here,” said Bobbie. “Hip, hip. . .”

“. . .hooey,” cried out John. “That is just a bunch of malarkey! There’s nothing to it!”

“John, you saw everything we did. Val saved all of us including you, you big lug,” I said telling him off. He had ticked me off for the last time.

“It was some kind of a trick, it had to be. No damned broad is going to be saving me!” he cussed as daggers shot from his eyes at poor Valerie.

With a twinkle in his eye, Bobby responded, “Not a bad trick; its one that could save my life any time, old chap.”

John snapped back, “Why no two legged little Barbie doll is going to show me up with her female . . .”

“Intuition?” I said sarcastically.

“No way. Her female craftiness is not going to show up John Wittingham Ross the III,” he boasted starting to raise his fists. Bobby stepped between them.

“Is that what it was, Val darling? Female intuition from that pretty little head of yours?” asked Bobby shifting to keep John away from her.

Val looked to her right a bit sheepishly, shrugged and replied, “I can be quite intuitive at times. SO I guess the answer is yes.”

“There, John. Female intuition. There’s your explanation and there’s something that we have that all you big strong men don’t have,” I said probably sounding a bit too smug. “Now are you going to admit it or not?”

“No! Never in a hundred million years. Though, all right, I will thank her. Val, however the hell you figured it out, thank you. But I’m not changing my mind about it being some big coincidence,” he said smugly.

 “I’m sure of that. That’ll be the day,” I replied.

Val leaned over, laughed at some private joke and then replied. “You never know John. Things just might turn out different for you in the future.”

“Fat chance for that,” John snorted though I hoped that Val’s prediction would come true. She seemed to have quite a knack for that.

PART THREE

Fremont, Nevada

August 23, 1957

That night at the Blue Parrot Saloon, John and Bobby were busily debating the value of a clutch versus the automatic transmission completely forgetting about our experience earlier in the day. The first signs of rescue personnel began to drift in and out of the saloon stopping for a sandwich or asking for directions. Valerie sat at the end of the bar trying to look like she wasn’t talking to herself. Even though she had her teeth gritted very tightly, sounds kept coming from her throat. And as before she kept pausing like someone was responding to her. Her constant use of the invisible friend was really starting to bother me. I picked up my martini and tried to join her one sided conversation.

“And I’m still here!” she finished. Val looked up, startled, as I slipped onto the stool next to her.

“And where would you want to be?” I asked sounding a bit too flippant. She started to sound like she could use a good talk with one of the psychology professors.

“Honestly? Home,” she said with a far off look in her eye as she took another sip of her beer.

“I guess the excitement has been enough for one summer’s vacation. If we followed our original plan, we might. . . um…” I mused.

“Yes. Since we avoided it, it’s good that we’re here, but WHY?” Val asked raising her voice just a bit and looking behind her.

“Probably like everyone else - recovering from the shock. Freud said that we shouldn’t lie down and we should get up quickly after a major shock. I certainly wouldn’t want to be lying down forever after something like that,” I replied sipping the last of my drink.

Val shook her head like she was responding to someone else. “Val, are you haunted or something? I swear that you have a demon in you or some spook is haunting you!!”

“You could say that. Not really a demon, just a wise guy that doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does,” she mused, again sipping her beer. “Yep, life never knows what’s UP NEXT!”

“Isn’t that the truth? You start out on life and an opportunity comes along and it’s something you never thought about. I’d like to get into business, but I’m not sure where it’s going in the future. I’d really like to . . .”

Val perked up quickly. “Future you say; one of my favorite topics or speculations. I bet that there’s a big business future in it. Try one of those up firms like IBM.”

“What, and work on adding machines? That’s kind of one sided. There has to be something better,” I said not liking the sound of her latest advice.

“Something better should be coming. And with a logical mind like yours I know you’ll do great,” said Val with more confidence than she had earlier.

“Sure. I’ll at least check into it,” I said figuring it’s as good a place as any to start at. Who knows what IBM may get into on the coming decade?

“Well?” asked Val looking over her shoulder. “Finally! That’s great!” she said now looking peacefully up at the ceiling.
        ”Why is that?” I inquired.

“Home, please make it home!” she barely whispered.  A look of total peace passed over Val as she also passed out on the counter.

“Val! VAL!” I said shaking her. She hadn’t had a heart attack but she did faint dead away.

“Um, where am I?” she asked coming to very quietly as I held her head.

“Still in the bar. In fact, on the bar,” I said looking deep into her eyes. She didn’t seem to be focused on anything.

“Bar?” she asked shaking her head. “ No. It was a hillside. We were hiking. Hiking up in the mountains!” she said a little more clearly. She looked strangely at the beer in front of her, had a sick reaction to it and then pushed it away.

“That was hours ago. That quake must have been quite a shock!” I said feeling her head.

Val quickly brushed away my hand. “What quake? Wait a minute. We were taking a break along the trail. And then I fell asleep. It must have been sleep. Nothing seemed too real. Nothing seemed right.” She frowned. “I had this really weird dream. I was in some big white closet or room or something!” she explained looking far off.

“Sound like a retrograde dream from your childhood,” I said taking a wild stab at it.

“When did you become the Psychology major? I was just trapped and some strange people had stolen parts of my brain. My memory was shot. They kept trying to explain things to me and nothing made any sense. I just seem to remember it. There was the short guy with a cigar and some Negress who seemed worried about me. Weird and now I’m here miles from my last recollection. Quake, you say?”

“Yea, sister. Something that gave me the true meaning of rock and roll. The whole side of a mountain came down on to Desmond Hollow. You saved all of us,” I explained. Somehow I didn’t think her lack of memory was due to modesty.

“I did? Now I am really confused! I never felt I was the Annie Oakley type, Pamie. Besides who predicts earthquakes?” she asked with a crooked smile on her face. She had started to sound more like her old self.

“I can see your confusion. That makes two of us. Let’s get you back to the motel to lie down,” I suggested trying to get her some rest.

“I feel fine!” Val insisted. “Just get me a martini and I’ll start feeling better.”

“What about the beer?” I asked.  

“Never touch the stuff!” she said looking again quite disgusted at the bottle.

“Even though that’s your second one? Val, you have had enough. I’ll get Abbot and Costello and we’ll be on our way,” I said going to get the two automobile jockeys.

And thus ended one strange day when my best friend saved us all on auto pilot without remembering any of it. Sometimes I think back to my own childhood invisible friends; usually they are for help or companionship. I never saw someone argue with his or her own personal haunter unless she happened to run into the spirit of Ed Norton. I could not delve deeper into the problem for Val never mentioned the subject again. Weird, but not very helpful. I guess her invisible friend just seemed to be watching over her and the rest of us; the guardian angel with the cigar. I never was a very religious person, but somehow, somewhere, that day someone was watching out for us.

Someone, out there in the vast expanses of time and space.

EPILOGUE

        As soon as I stepped from the transport I knew this was going to be a special duty in more than one way. Bronson got to pick where he wanted, like all the rest of those first - in - their - class nozzles, but I got this and I can't tell anyone about it. I'm not even sure I have the right security level to set foot in this place, but I guess Command knows what it's doing.

I know Indian Summer means hot, but damn! I thought survival training was tough and ugly terrain but this beats that all to Hell. No, this is Hell. Even with the reputation of this place, I'm still glad to be just be passing through. I hope. I have enough time for a cold one, but there sure doesn't appear to be any place around here for that kind of thing. After I situate my bag on my shoulder, I turn my attention to the Lieutenant J.G. that's here to greet us and note his nametag - P.R. Grayson.

"Welcome to Groom Lake, gentlemen. Follow me, please."

I wonder whom Lt. Grayson pissed off to get assigned here? If you're not a pilot, and he's not, this place would be, well, Hell. These other three from the transport must have to stay awhile, too, poor suckers. I'll be happy to see this place in my rear view; I just hope the 'temporary courier duty' on my orders really do mean I'm not stickin' around.

"Ensign Calavicci."

I know that voice. I turn around, snap to attention and automatically render a perfect salute. "Commander Jenkins, sir." What's he doing here?

"Follow me, Ensign."

I fall behind him and leave the little troop from the transport. He must be the reason I'm here. I thought he liked me - I hope I'm not wrong. Oh crap, I hope he's not gonna ask that I be his assistant or something! I wouldn't stay here for all the tea in China. At least he's taking me inside out of the sun - thank the Lord for air conditioning. At least now it doesn’t feel like this collar’s gonna choke me to death.

This is great - the photos on the wall are fantastic! Those planes must be a kick in the butt to fly!

"Those, Ensign, are the recent prototypes developed and flown here at Area 51. A bit radical, wouldn't you say?"

He sounds amused. "Radical isn't the word I'd use, sir. These look like something from science fiction."

He glances back at me and cracks a smile over his shoulder, the first smile I've ever seen on him. I guess he normally has to keep a stern face to try and scare the crap out of us cadets; I'm an Ensign now. Guess I’m privileged enough to see he’s human.

"Yeah, they are rather unique. You were briefed on security protocol? You can't name this place, confirm it exists or disclose that you've been here?"

"Yes, sir." I don't know anyone in his right mind that would want to come to this dump to stay, even with the reputation it has. Well - except maybe to fly those. "Sir? Those planes - do they really exist?"

There's that smile again.

"Yes, Ensign, they do. But not outside this facility."

I can play this game. "Yessir."

Commander Jenkins finds an office and hitches his hip onto a desk. He motions for me to close the door and I obey.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, aren't you Ensign?"

Yeah, that thought had crossed my mind about a zillion times since Pensacola. "Yes, sir, I was."

He took his time in replying and studied me for a minute. I don't look away.

"I noticed you in flight training, Ensign. You have talent, but are undisciplined to the point of almost being insubordinate. That's the only reason you placed 5th in your class."

Fourth loser, I automatically think. "Yes, sir."

"You are good behind the stick. You have a natural feel for flight that can be honed to a very useful skill. On the ground, however, you are a rogue and that's what will sink you if you don’t straighten up."

I can feel the old burn starting in my cheeks and will myself to stay calm. So what's wrong with wanting to live a little while I can? Did this guy have to get a surgical operation or was he born with a stick up his ass? As I thought before, I can play this game, buddy, just watch me. "Yes, sir."

"I know what you're thinking, Ensign."

About surgery? I hope not.

"I can see it in your eyes."

You'd like me to believe that, wouldn't you?

"I called you here to give you a little incentive."

Oh God! Not an assistant - a janitor!

"I want you to see what's coming for you - and the Navy."

Wait a second… huh? "Excuse me, sir?"

He hands me a photo. "Look at this."

It's a picture of the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on. Those lines, the profile! And what a pair of . . .

"I see you noticed the engines, Ensign Calavicci. She can hit Mach 2 without a shimmy and as smooth as silk. She's called the A4 Valiant, and is the only one of her kind."

"She's a beauty, sir." And she is. Why are you teasing me? I can't fly this. I feel my anger flare, but keep my cool.

Commander Jenkins nods at the picture. "I'm flying this baby from here to Edwards in California. I want you in the second seat."

        Oh my God, I've died and gone to heaven!