Consigning Fate (4 page)

“What do you have?”

Danny looked around the faces. “They all know what info I was getting?”

“Yes,” Frank replied. “And this is perfect timing. Where was Dean at the time of my father’s death?”

“I can’t say what he was doing,” Danny said. “He wasn’t moving. Between the hours of roughly eleven AM and way past the time Joe died … Dean was in the clinic. A back room. I suppose sleeping just like he said.”

“And there’s no way he could have made it appear that way?” Frank asked. “And gone somewhere else?”

“Nope.” Danny said. “This tracker is programmed to his chip. Each chip has a special number. Unless he performed brain surgery and walked blind. No. He was at the clinic.”

All reactions were the same. Stunned. Robbie widened his eyes with an exhale. Hal was shocked. John was in awe. Elliott held a gloating look.

Frank smiled and nodded. “Thank you Danny.”

“What am I missing?” Danny asked.

“Nothing.” Frank looked at Hal. “Proof enough?”

“Proof enough,” Hal said. “Now we need a plan.”

<><><><>

The smaller plane was in perfect condition, but George Hadley just wanted to give it the once over … again.

He closed the hatch to the right engine, and wiped his hands on a towel. The final check.

“All set,” George said to a maintenance man standing by.

“Shall I get her fueled now?”

George nodded. “Refuel her, yes. Full tank. I’ll be back.”

He had things to do first. Stewart Lang had just returned to Quantico. George hadn’t had a chance to see him, but needed to make time. While speaking to Stewart he made arrangements to get in contact if he was needed. He didn’t know how long he was going to be gone, but he wanted daily check ins.

The new Sgt. Major seemed to be working out nicely as a temporary replacement for Bertha Callahan who was recovering. What George needed was for Bertha to recover and recover quickly. But he didn’t know the time frame he had, so he left instructions for the Sergeant Major to begin implementing a countryside alert. Deploy all troops as soon as possible to various locations.

Troops, equipment and artillery.

Stewart had asked if they should mobilize the troops now. George didn’t think so. The impending Great War he was told about had no details. He didn’t want to move his troops to the worst spots or most vulnerable spots.

Not until he knew more. He would soon. Hopefully.

He left Stewart for his next stop, telling Lang to prep notification to send to his destination.

He would leave in the morning or afternoon. Notification could be sent out then.

On to Callahan. She was making progress. The chip program of Danny Hoi’s worked like a charm and she was responding and talking. Seeing and hearing. The doctors said she would be back on her feet in no time.

She even recognized George and asked about things. He didn’t tell her much. He wanted her to get strong and well.

She had lost the baby she was carrying. Fortunately, she was too consumed with dealing with her recovery.

“We’ll try again,” she said.

George winced. Winced at the vision of six foot something Callahan in her masculine build glory fornicating with three foot, teenage, height deficient, Tigger Manis. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right. But she felt she was falling in love with the eighteen year old boy.

To each his own.

Manis was the last stop George had to make for the night.

Not Tigger but Mike. The little man’s towering father who was the chief of Police of Lodi. Mike, a prisoner of Quantico when he came on a mission to kill George and in the process shot Robbie and Callahan.

“Are they treating you well?” George asked.

Mike spit on the floor and stood from his bunk. “Oh, yeah, they let me out of my box twice a day to walk.”

“You have food, water, clothes; you’re clean and not beaten. Don’t be so disgruntled.”

“Why the fuck do you care how they are treating me?” Mike asked hard.

“Actually, I really don’t.” George said, standing, hands in pockets. “I wanted you dead. You came to kill me. You trespassed, shot my best man. Shot Robbie. You should be dead.”

“They why aren’t I?”

“Beginnings doesn’t want you dead.”

Mike vocally scoffed. “Like you give a fuck about Beginnings.”

“I do now, always did. But I have to now.”

“Are you expecting me to ask you why?”

George shook his head. “Nope. If I wasn’t such a bleeding heart I’d have a bullet in your head.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t so careless, you’d have a bullet in yours.”

George snickered. “You had a bad plan, Manis.”

“Bad?” Mike ridiculed “I don’t think so. You lead this mess. If you aren’t around, this mess wouldn’t be on such a vindictive mission.”

“Our mission is the same as Beginnings now.”

“Right.” Mike sat down.

“Fine. Believe what you want.”

“I don’t believe for a second that Beginnings wants you alive.”

“Beginnings wants me alive, Mike and they need me alive. I’m not gonna tell you why. Not yet. You don’t deserve to know. But I’ll tell you this. You’re no good to us in a jail cell, and you’re no good to us dead.”

“Us as in the Society?”

“No, us as in the Society and Beginnings.”

Mike laughed.

George shook his head and turned. “I’m not gonna waste my breath anymore on you. It’s frustrating. You don’t know anything, so right now you can’t comment in an educated manner. I’ll fill you in when I get back, and then you can make the choice. You can stay here and rot, or you can walk away on the same path we’re all on.” He walked to the cell door and signaled the guard.

“Where are you going that’s gonna make that big of a difference on what you do with me?”

George paused before leaving. “Beginnings.”

<><><><>

Elliott’s eyes widened. “No.”

Hal grinned and finished his drink. “Yes.”

“Captain, this obsession of yours.”

“Obsession, Elliott?” Hal tilted his head. “I prefer calling it a mission.” He leaned further in the bar at the Social Hall.

“But this …”

“Is all part of the plan.” Hal raised his eyebrows a few times.

“I just …” Elliott shuddered. “I feel so weird doing this.”

“And I don’t?”

“Well, you have been there before.”

Hal scoffed. “That was when Frank was Frank. Now … sadly, I miss my annoying, dense, hard headed short bus brother.”

Elliott laughed.

“Let’s top this off with one more.” Hal poured a drink for Elliott and himself. “Then let’s hit this phase.”

Against what he wanted to do, and not very convincing, Elliott mumbled a ‘fine’ and took his shot.

The back room of the old shoe repair store was larger than the front, but Lars needed that. It was where he held his seminars and group meetings. He didn’t need chairs for the class. The women all sat on the floor, Indian style.

Lars paced, walked around them, while their eyes were closed, palms up.

“That’s correct, breathe deeply,” Lars spoke almost hypnotically. “We need to clear our minds of all the centuries of brain washing. Centuries of being told that producing estrogen is a no-no. That those of you who do, are condemned to carry a demon inside. Menopause is not a bad word, it is an awakening …”

“Amen,” Andrea whispered out.

“The fallopian tubes are a roadway to womanhood,” Lars said. “Blocked or unblocked, the fallopian tubes are a symbol. The eggs, the hormones you generate, are not a curse, but a blessing. Men who have condemned you are envious of you. Estrogen is empowering. Progesterone is enabling. You as women have the uterus. It is the super dome. The birth canal, the golden highway …”

Hal caught Elliott slipping away, as they stood in the hall just outside the room. He reached out, grabbed Elliott by the shirt and yanked him back. “Not so fast,” Hal whispered.

“Captain,” Elliott gasped. “The super dome, golden highway, Progesterone is enabling. Oh my God.”

‘This is perfect Elliott. Share perfection. Come on.”

“No,”

“Elliott.”

“No, unless it’s a direct order, I’m leaving.”

Hal smiled. “I order you.”

“Fuck.”

Hal grinned.

With a depression of his finger, Lars pressed the music player and soft relaxing music piped through the room. He paced and spoke, “Envision your ovaries. Imagine their tentacles waving Saying hello Saying …” he paused. He saw Hal and Elliot in the back room. “Gentlemen.”

A unison ‘huh’ flowed through the room.

Andrea turned around. “Hal, I know you strive to be a part., but this is an ovary class, not a testicle class.”

“And I await it,” Hal said walking through the room toward the front.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Lars asked. “This really is a women’s class.”

“And we won’t interrupt your travels to the superdome via the golden highway.” Hal grinned. “I won’t hold up too much of your time.”

‘What is it?” Lars asked.

“I need a way to speak to the women,” Hal stood before them. “What better way.” He smiled. “Ladies, I have a favor to ask of you.”

<><><><>

Peace.

Frank had every intention of going home after a long day. Go home and spend time with Ellen, but when he found out she was at a body parts class, he let her be and hung out a little longer.

But instead of going to the Social Hall, Frank went somewhere else.

Sector thirty-two.

The Killer Baby region.

It was a long day, one that ended with Danny giving up on why they had another meeting. Danny did his job. He confirmed to Frank that Dean was nowhere near his father’s murder. And the Dean looking person was actually the clone.

News of the clone remained a secret between Hal, Elliott, Robbie, Frank and John Matoose. No one, absolutely no one else, no matter who they were was to find out about the clone.

Frank sent each man home to come up with a solution.

Then he himself took a detour to the Killer Baby section.

There was something soothing about the Killer Baby region.

It made Frank think of the old days. The days where he was chasing SUTS, savages and saving people. Back in the days when he didn’t have to have his thinking cap on too tightly. Until, of course, military action was needed.

Frank missed being that Frank. Playing with the killer babies, teaching them Journey songs.

But he knew those days were long gone. He had a new job, newer responsibility, and a new outlook.

He watched and listened to the killer babies. How soothing the sounds of the gnarling flesh. He even believed he thought he saw two of them having sex. But since they were toddlers, and since they were asexual, it couldn’t have been.

Frank did wonder if two asexual beings having sex made them homosexual. He’d have to ask Dean that. If it wasn’t weird enough, homosexual killer babies in Beginnings topped that.

Just as he thought of Dean he heard it, and it snapped in his mind. The odd request from Dean and Ellen.

The howling in the distance, not far from the edge of the Killer Baby region made Frank smile.

He told Ellen and Dean that he would see what he could do. Although he enjoyed hunting, he knew he didn’t have the time to play mighty hunter with a coyote. But how convenient was it? A coyote was there. Not far away. It gave Frank a sense of fulfillment over something he missed. The hunt. The chase.

Even though he didn’t really have much on him, Frank took the challenge and downed the gate to the Killer Baby sector.

He didn’t need much. It was a coyote. He was Frank. How hard could it be?

With those thoughts, Frank went in pursuit.

March 27
th

There was something amazingly enriching and inspiring to Jimmy about the music of the old band, The Four Seasons. The upbeat, perky horns, and nasal vocals, along with the chord progression fueled Jimmy.

He longed for the days when he was a musician in high school. He played the triangle for Opus 17.

He was making progress on the manual. Read. Test. Fail. Succeed. He was certain; in the long run he’d have it down pat.

But one thing made him nervous. It was just after eight and he hadn’t heard from Jenny yet. She usually called him before she started teaching, but no call.

He scheduled a call from her in his mid-morning break.

But she was about a half an hour past due.

Just about on the next page, Jimmy’s phone rang.

“Communications,” Jimmy answered.

“Jimmy.”

With a smile, he kicked back. “Just the voice I wanted to hear. I expected to hear from you earlier. Is everything OK?”

“No,” Jenny replied.

Jimmy snapped forward. “What’s wrong?”

Jenny sighed. “We have a problem.”

“We as in you and me? You’re not pregnant are you?”

“No. no. Not us. Beginnings.”

“Have you gone to Frank?” Jimmy asked. “Because I’m just a worker bee here.”

Another long sigh from Jenny rang out. “This, that response is why I love you. You are so Slagel in one aspect, but so you in another. You would never hear your brothers say that.”

Jimmy didn’t know how to react to that one, so he just moved on. “So what’s up?”

“I don’t want to give details over the phone. But Trish … Trish is hysterical. Everyone that was at the library heard her scream and … she’s recovering now at the clinic. I spoke to her and told her not to mention a word to anyone until she spoke to you. So can you head over there?”

Jimmy looked at his watch. “Mark should be here any second. I’m on it.”

“Thanks, pumpkin.”

Jimmy snickered. “You’re welcome Shortcake.” Still grinning he hung up the phone.

“Shortcake?” Danny asked.

Jimmy jolted and spun around. “What?”

“Oh, that’s fuckin funny. You’re calling someone Shortcake.” Danny laughed. “Who’s the chick?”

“It wasn’t a chick,” Jimmy cleared his throat. “It was … it was my brother.”

“Yeah right,” Danny laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“Which one?”

“Which one what?”

“Which brother? You have three,” Danny said.

“Frank.”

Danny laughed harder. “Now I know you’re lying.”

“Danny,” Jimmy said seriously. “Do I joke around like my brothers? Have you ever seen me pull someone’s leg just to be an asshole?”

Danny tilted his head. “No. No I haven’t. But Frank … Shortcake?”

“If you must know, it was a nick name my father gave Frank when he was younger; because he was … he was short.”

“No way.”

“And he had red hair for a while.”

“Like the odd redheaded step child.”

Jimmy pointed. “Exactly.”

“So why haven’t I heard you call him that before? Why haven’t I heard him called that before?”

“Well, for starters, how often do you see me talk to Frank?”

“True.” Danny nodded. “I don’t see you talk too many of your brothers. They forget about you. I mean... I mean … you know what I mean.”

“Oh, sure.” Jimmy waved out his hand with a wink. “But, I’ve been trying to make him feel comforted by calling him that more often since my father died.”

“Totally understand. And Frank doesn’t mind?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Wow.” Danny folded his arms. “Frank’s nickname is Shortcake.”

“Yep.” Jimmy widened his eyes and turned back to his book. “I hate to be rude, but I have to read some more before Mark gets here. I have to go topside when he does. There’s a problem I have to deal with.”

“Oh, sure, no problem I only came down to do a systems check.” Danny moved across the room. ‘So what’s the problem?”

Jimmy flipped a page in the book. “It’s Trish.”

“That’s why you were talking to Shortcake, huh?”

“Yep.” Jimmy nodded. “Wants me to handle it.”

Danny whistled. “Glad it’s you and not me. Thought I’d get the call from Frank to handle Trish.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, all I know is I was asked to go speak to her.”

“I don’t know either, but I know they carried her from the history office. Rumor has it she saw a ghost.”

“Really?”

“That’s what I heard.” Danny shrugged.

A buzz of the door brought in Mark. “Hey guys.”

Jimmy put a book mark in his book. “Hey Mark, glad you’re here. I have to run topside to check on Trish.”

Mark, like Danny, whistled. “Glad it’s you. Not me.”

Curiosity piqued, Danny asked. “Do you know what’s going on, Mark?”

Mark shook his head. “Haven’t a clue. I heard they carried her out, she was white. Pasty, barely breathing. Near heart attack. They’re saying she saw Joe’s ghost.”

“Joe’s?” Danny asked.

“Joe’s.” Mark nodded. “That's what I heard.”

Jimmy stood and walked to the door. “Guess it’s time to find out.”

Danny called out. “Will you let us know?”

“Absolutely.” Jimmy said and walked out.

Waiting a moment until he was gone, Danny sat on the counter. “Did you see her?”

Mark shook his head. “Clinic room is cordoned off. And I’m security.”

“Who’s on the door?”

“Belford.”

Danny swished his mouth from side to side. “She had to see something. For that reaction. Wow. So, hey …” He gave an up motion of his chin. “Did you know Frank’s nickname was Shortcake?”

<><><><>

“You’re looking awfully pleasant this morning,” Elliott told Hal as they walked down the streets of Bowman.

“I am pleasant Elliott. The glow of accomplishment is there,” Hal said.

“Then I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

Hal stopped walking. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got word from Beginnings. They called to see if Anthony could go fill in at History for Trish.”

“Did something happen?” Hal asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Elliott replied. “They are saying Trish had a heart attack.”

“Good God,” gasped Hal, as he continued to walk “She’s so young.”

“I know,” Elliott replied. “They found her in the history unconscious, that’s the reports I’m getting. They’re saying that your father’s ghost spooked her.”

It caused Hal to pause in his stride once more. “My father’s ghost.”

Elliott shrugged. “That’s what they’re saying.”

“My step mother walks around speaking to his ghost.”

“You don’t think there’s some substance to his ghost being around do you.”

Hal looked at Elliott. “Don’t be absurd I think there may be more substance that hysteria is contagious.”

“That makes sense.”

“Well, fill me in on her progress.”

“I will. I hear Jimmy is on his way to check on her.”

“Good. Good.” Hal nodded.

“You still look happy.”

“I can’t help it, Elliott. I can’t. It’s pretty exciting. If all goes as planned.” Hal looked at his watch. “My little scheme to get Frank back should be starting now.”

<><><><>

‘Oh this is fucked up,’ was the thought that Frank had when he got the note.

‘Trish had a heart attack’ said the message, ‘she is in critical condition and may not make it’

So young. Frank couldn’t believe it. He made a note to stop in and see how she was doing as soon as he finished reviewing his notes from morning rounds.

Before he did so, he picked up the phone and called Ellen. “Hey, babe, how’s it going?”

“Good. How about with you?”

“Missing you. I’m sorry you were sleeping when I got in last night.”

“That’s fine, the Killer Baby region is important to you. I know.”

“Are you at the cryo lab yet?” Frank asked.

“Stopping by Dean’s, and I’m on my way.”

“I left a surprise for you.”

“Really?” Ellen’s voice perked. “What?”

“You’ll see. There’s a note.”

“Excellent, I’ll see it when I get there.”

He conversed a bit more with her, feeling badly that his new job and responsibilities had taken him away even more than when he just ran security. But he knew Ellen would understand.

After hanging up the phone he looked at his desk calendar and to the meeting set at one.

One o’clock they were to come up with a reasonable solution as to what to do with Dean and the clone. A plan to follow. Frank had his own, but before initiating, wanted to run it by everyone.

Morning round out of the way, Frank prepared to hit the later ones when a knock came at the door.

“Come in.” he instructed.

Jenny poked her head in the trailer. “Busy?”

“A little, what’s up?”

“It’s just meeting day,” she said.

“With?” Frank asked.

“Me.”

“About?”

“Things,” Jenny said and walked in. “Joe met with me once a week.”

“I’m not my father. I didn’t know about it.”

“Now you do.” She said perky. “May I sit down?”

“Actually. No I’m on my way …”

“Thanks.” Jenny sat. “This won’t take long.”

Frank grumbled. “Go on. What is this on?”

“Women’s issues.”

“Stop.” He held up his hand. “Explain women’s issues. Like voting.”

“Huh?”

“Women’s voting or rights.”

“No.”

“Then what the fuck kind of women’s issues are you wanting to discuss.”

“Frank,” Jenny snipped. “Your father …”

“I’m not my father.”

“But your father as leader took us seriously. Don’t you want to be that type of leader?”

“If my father took time out of his day for fucking inane issues. No.”

“These aren’t inane issues.”

Another grumble and Frank waved her on. “Go ahead.”

“First.” Jenny pulled out her note book. “Ben from Fabrics is refusing to come up with a new fall color for us women.”

Frank cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For fall.”

“Yeah, but why do you need a new color.”

“We can’t wear summer colors, Frank.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“It’s not summer. We …”

“Stop.”

“What?” she asked.

“No inane issues. That’s an inane issue.”

“Fine. This one is not.”

“Go ahead,” Frank said.

“Some of the women are not registering or updating their menstrual cycles.”

“Who the fuck cares?”

Jenny gasped. “Frank. If they don’t register or update their menstrual cycle how can they get the first day off.”

“First day of what?”

“Their periods.”

Frank winced. “I’m lost. Is there a new scientific thing Dean invented?”

“What?” Jenny was confused.

“A scientific method or drug I don’t know about?”

“What … what are you talking about Frank?”

He huffed. “You said if they don’t register or update, they can’t get their first day of their periods off.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then there has to be some sort of new medical thing.”

“No.”

“Then how are they getting their first day off.”

“Joe initiated that.”

“Whoa.” Frank sat back. “He had the secret thing?”

“Huh?”

“But to be honest, wouldn’t the second day be the first.”

Jenny blinked. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“All well and fine to get the first day of the period off, but when the second day came, that would be their first day, so really you aren’t saving them anything.”

“Frank I …”

“Although I don’t know how Dean or my dad was able to make a women get the first day off of their period.”

Jenny opened her mouth, stopped and held up her hand. “No. No they don’t get off their period. They don’t work on their first day.”

“Of?”

“Their periods.”

“Wait. Are you telling me the women in this community get a day off of work, every month, because they’re on their period?”

“Yes.” Jenny nodded. “The first day.”