A satire of dysfunctional politics and economic disparity.
Chapter V: Day/Page 40 CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. . . .
“What the hell do you mean? I thought we had rockets on standby. I thought I could launch anywhere, anytime that I wanted!” shouts the Admiral.
“Yes, sir, that’s true. You can launch immediately through any spatial-wormhole to any of the millions of planets that we’ve already calibrated and tested. But this is a temporal-wormhole, which just got opened, and we haven’t done anything with it yet. It’s new. And the researchers had priority, so we’ve been waiting for them to finish. And so nothing—and I mean nothing—has been done on our side yet. It hasn’t even been tested. So I doubt we can do better than twenty-four hours. And what about the reset? I’m assuming you want to do the reset now as well, correct?”
“Uh… shit! I hadn’t even thought of that, but yes, I guess so. There’s no point in you going all the way there and not doing it. So yes, we should do the reset now too,” says the Admiral firmly.
“Well, that’s another problem. I doubt Colonel Schmerzhals’ team has done much with the reset code either.”
“I’ll call Schmerzhals and get him going on the code. You get over to the launch facilities and get them started. Those goddamn academic ass-wipes caused this mess, but we can’t very well sit idly by and watch one of them time out. They may be dipshits, but they’re our dipshits. So let’s get going Major. I’m meeting the Professor in my office in an hour.”
The Professor is waiting for him when the Admiral arrives. “Good morning, Professor. Come on in,” he says. “Want some coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Private,” barks the Admiral to a young Hawk with downy feathers and bad complexion sitting at a desk in front. “Bring us two coffees, will you. How do you take yours, Professor?”
“Cream and sugar. Extra sugar.”
“Cream with lots of sugar for the Professor—mine same as usual.” Turning to the Professor, “Please… have a seat.”
“Thank you, Admiral. Thank you for everything. I know it’s only been an hour, but is Major Bedlam getting ready? Assuming it’s him that’s going. We’ll have everything set at our lab as soon as he gets there.”
“Um… Yes, the Major is getting prepared, but… but we’re not using your facility, we’re using ours instead.”
The Professor is taken aback, but then recovers. “Ok… that’s fine… I guess. How soon will you be ready?”
“Within twenty-four hours.”
The Professor stiffens. . . .
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW. . . .
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Gregory James
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