In Limbo (5 page)

             
“I don't know for sure.  Look at the shore, the right side, the military side.”

              “Honey, I'm not sure, but I think we're already past Camp Crowder.”

              “
Oh,” I couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say.  “Well, look around you at least.  Look at the shoreline, look closely at the weeds, the bushes, all that green stuff.”

              He nodded and looked.  “Ok,” he finally said. “What am I looking at?” 

             
“Tom, the weeds are too big.  They are the bushes.  Look how high the grass is!  Now look at the bushes.  They look way too big, too.  Look at the colors of the trees.  The leaves are slowly turning brownish, like early fall.  This is all wrong.  It's, well… it's weird!  And back there, when I went into the brush, there were dead insects and birds and stuff everywhere.” 

              I know I had an edge in my voice, and Tom did not respond right away.  He slowly looked around.  Then he steered the canoe back toward the shore, beached it, and actually walked over to some of these strange plants and touched them.  He returned with a puzzled look on his face.

             
“You know, you're right,” he said quietly.  “It's all off somehow.  I can't explain it, but the weeds are way too big and the bushes are too.  Plus, they all look out of season.  And there are no insects either.  I can't detect a chemical odor, but that doesn't mean that these crazy bastards at that base didn't conduct some sort of test and it affected this area.  Let’s talk to the others.  I don't like the idea of being someone's guinea pig.”

             
But, as we got back onto the river, they were well ahead of us moving toward the camp site. The talk would have to wait, at least for now.  We hurried to catch up with them, but we didn't make it. 

              I tried to turn to look at Tom, but he grunted at my movement, so I just paddled.  Up ahead we saw the landmark Sam had talked about, the huge, flat topped rock in the river.  It sure
did look strange but that didn't matter to me at this time.  To me, it looked strange but beautiful because it meant that we had reached the halfway point on our trip. 

              And, for some reason, I just wanted to get off the river.

Chapter 6

Kansas City, Saturday, 4:30 a.m.

             
The three men approached the airline's customer service counter from different directions.  After shaking hands and exchanging the customary greetings, they headed toward the terminal exit.  Although it was still dark outside, the sky to the East was starting to be tinged in shades of red and gold.  Thanks to the surrounding flat countryside of Missouri's western prairie land, they were presented with the beginnings of a spectacular sunrise.  Expecting a limo curbside and not seeing one, they stood at the exit, for a moment perplexed.  They knew each other by name, had communicated for years, but had just now, at long last, met in person.

              The tallest of the trio broke the silence.

             
“Well, gentlemen, what do you think of all this?  They drag us out here at an ungodly hour, and then the limo is late.  Let's go back inside and see if the coffee shop is open.  I need some caffeine and somewhere in this dump I will find some.”

             
David Smith turned to reenter the terminal, stopping momentarily to check his reflection in the glass door.  He was tall, well over six feet, with ebony skin many female models would kill for.  He wore a stylish dark gray pinstripe suit with matching, obviously imported, leather shoes.  His shirt was a soft creamy beige, complemented by a red paisley tie.  He ran his hand over his short hair, squared his shoulders and reentered the terminal.

             
The other two men looked at each other and shrugged.  The older of the two, a man of medium height, bordering on chubby, was comfortably dressed in well-worn jeans, an equally aged tweed sports jacket and obviously-broken-in leather loafers.  He carefully set down his
bulging briefcase and brushed his unruly hair with his hand.  Kenneth Messer had just arrived from Seattle, and although his eyes told him the day was beginning, his body still was on Pacific Time and wanted more sleep.  He made a mental note to himself not to accept any future special assignments that involved sudden travel east of the Rockies.  I'm getting too old for this nonsense, he thought.

             
The third man of the trio seemed unconcerned.  He had arrived at the airport well ahead of his travel companions and spent his time on the phone making last minute arrangements.  Jeffrey Craft was only in his early thirties, of average height, with short brown hair and a bushy red mustache.  He was the ‘golden boy’ of the group, had graduated early from high school and equally early from college.  Although money had always mattered to him, prestige mattered more.  He enjoyed his six-figure income, but cherished his title, expense account and the big office at the corporate headquarters.

             
Together, the three walked through the terminal building.  They followed their noses to the food court.

              “I wonder when SERPAC's driver will finally show up?” said David Smith, known for his impatience.

             
“Relax, Dave,” said Jeffrey Craft.  “I talked with the man earlier. He was already on his way.  It does take a couple of hours to drive up here.  I'm sure he'll be here any minute now.  You guys arrived about thirty minutes early, so be grateful.  Airlines are so famous for running late, we all expect it, and then we get irritated when we're actually on time.  Ken, how was your flight from Seattle?”

              “Too long, but otherwise not all that bad.  I just hate to fly, passionately!  When they
called me yesterday and confirmed that we were really on, I had to leave on the spot to make my flight out of SeaTac and then I had to change planes in Denver.  So, with the delays and time zones, I've been on the go for more than twelve hours.  Couldn't say goodbye to the family. They were at the movies when the call came.  I had a chance to call from Denver, so at least they know I've not been kidnapped by aliens.”

             
“You didn't tell your family where you're going or why, did you?  You know what Jonathon told us,” said David Smith.

             
“I told my wife I had to go to a big shot, emergency corporate meeting in Chicago.  When you have a family, my friend, you can't just up and disappear!  Families have a tendency to report you as a missing person.  If Jonathon can't understand that, well, that's just too bad.”

              “He understands, I'm sure.”  Jeffrey Craft sounded calm.  “He just didn't want details leaking out and I think your excuse sounds great and believable.  Dave, how come you're so uptight?”

             
“I'm tired and I want to get this show on the road.  This waiting for the damn limo is for the birds.  Why can't we just get a rental car, drive out there ourselves, something like that.”

             
“Two reasons.  First of all, we are being picked up by the chauffeur because that's policy and that's the way Jonathon wants it done.  Second, there are no rental cars at this airport.  If you want a rental, you notify the airline counter, they notify the agency, they come and pick you up, you go into town and then you may rent your car.  The agencies do not open until eight-thirty a.m.  We knew that when we planned this little adventure.  It's now almost five-thirty a.m.  Accept the fact that the people here roll up the sidewalks at ten p.m. and do not unroll them until eight o'clock in the morning.  Accept that and relax.  Trust me, you'll live longer.”

             
“What a crock!  They knew when we would arrive.  Don't they have clocks?  Why do we have to sit and wait?”

              “Because, because, because.”

             
They sat down on concrete benches in front of the terminal doors, just as a dark green, four wheel drive vehicle pulled up in front of them.  The driver jumped out.

              “Are you the gentlemen with SERPAC?”

              “Yes, we are.”

              “Good Morning and welcome to God's country.  My name is Ron.  I'm your chauffeur, your guide, your jack-of-all-trades during your stay.  Officially, I'm an administrative assistant to Jonathon Brooks, but in reality I'm just his local gopher.”  He laughed.  “Like in go for this and go for that.  Do you gentlemen have any luggage I might get?”

             
They shook their heads.

              “Well, in that case, hop in and let's get going.  We'll need to stop for gas before long.  I suggest you make that your comfort stop, because once we're back on the road there will be nothing worth stopping at.”

             
They made it out of town well ahead of rush hour traffic.  Ron slipped a CD of some classical music into the stereo and the three men sipped their coffee and munched on their donuts in without speaking.

             
Brushing crumbs off his shirt, Ken Messer turned to his travel companions.

“If you don't mind, I'd like to review a couple of things.”

             
“Come on, Ken!  Get some rest, enjoy the scenery.  I know you get off on all that nature stuff.  Save the business for later.”  David Smith had a whine in his voice.  “I'm tired and I wanted to get some rest.”

              “I have concerns.  I just want to see if your data supports these concerns, because if it does, then we need to get hold of the SPC team ASAP.”

             
“Oh come on!  What do you have?  We've covered every possible scenario.  SPC's been over it all, you've seen the reports.”

             
“Of course I've seen the reports, but I've done some refiguring on my own.  And I am beginning to think that we are not allowing a wide enough range for the contaminant filters.  And I've found inaccuracies in the calibration of the targeting program.  I think that's enough for us to run a diagnostic program and rethink our strategies!  Plus, I'm not satisfied with the environmental analyses.  And for heaven's sake, let's make sure we're hitting the right area, at the right time.”

             
“Ken!  We've done all that in the lab.  What's your point?”

             
“We've done it in the lab!  That's precisely my point.  We are using data from the lab and just modifying it to account for the different distances and the size of the target area.  But we did not take atmospheric conditions into consideration.  We've not run any tests to cover that, for example.  And I'm just not at all convinced that our security measures are adequate.”

             
“Define!”

              “It seems to me, we are operating on the assumption that the area is unpopulated.  But people are in the area, rural people, farmers.  That's an unpredictability that did not get factored in.  I've read and re-read the whole thing and I'm telling you that we are not ready, regardless of what Jonathon seems to think.”

             
David Smith had pulled out a thick folder and started reviewing document after document as they traveled the interstate.  He looked at Jeff Craft and sighed.  Jeff, fighting carsickness, had folded his coat neatly and placed it under his head.  His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sound asleep.

             
“See,” David said to Ken, pointing at their travel companion.  “He is not concerned with the contaminant filters and quality controls of the targeting program.  That ought to tell you something, 'cause that man worries about everything twenty-four hours a day.  It's his job.  He is satisfied and so I'm satisfied.  They don't pay me enough to worry along with him.  I've done my share!” 

             
“As far as environmental impact is concerned, now you're treading on my turf.  I've done the homework!  The demographics and surveys clearly show we have the appropriate time frame.  Yes, we'll have changes, but they'll be at the cellular level and could not possibly be visualized!  We are programmed for that!  Definitely no human effect!  We've ruled that out conclusively.  Even if those filters fail, we still have enough redundancies built into the system that we are virtually fail-proof.  We've been through all possible scenarios in the lab, in real-nature conditions, Ken.  We've covered it all.  Argue the security with Craft, I'm taking a nap.”

     “ There are some travel pillows behind the back seat,” offered the driver.  Ken tried to focus
on the music and on the lovely scenery around them.  Try to relax, he told himself as he inhaled deeply several times.  Just try to relax.

             
“This road is following the same route wagon trains used to take in the old days”, said Ron the driver.  “I've often wondered what that must have been like.  What we're traveling now in a matter of hours, they did in days, maybe weeks.”

              “Are you from around here?” asked Ken.

             
“Oh, no.”  Ron shook his head.  “I'm a city boy, from Kansas City.  When SERPAC started to develop the corporate retreat, I got involved and I suppose Mr. Brooks was satisfied and so he pretty much lets me run that show down there.  'Course that means I have to live there, but once you get over the initial shock -- you know city versus country -- it's really cool.”

              “Have you heard of the AMAG system?”

             
“I know what AMAG is supposed to do and I know what the success of AMAG will do to my bank account.  Plus I've been a little involved with the security issues of this thing.  Maybe I can help out?”

              “I don't know. Do you have clearance?”

             
“I have the same clearance you all have.  That's why I'm picking you guys up instead of the regular chauffeur.  We were concerned you would be talking shop on the way and that's not part of the regular driver's clearance.”

              “I'm just concerned about a negative environmental impact.  We just did not do nearly
enough lab simulations to satisfy me.  And if something goes wrong and we start an environmental nightmare, my ass will be way out on the line.  Did we look at the utilization of the area for recreational purposes?  I can just envision a Boy Scout Camp!”

             
“Hey, relax!  That's all covered.  SERPAC has leased a couple hundred acres from the feds, significantly more than is really needed.  All roads in will be blocked by sunrise and reopened by sundown.  But really, the area is so remote, it really is the pits!”  He laughed.  “I talked with some local people and the area is even too remote for the average poacher.  I don't have my data with me, but when we get there, you're welcome to all my stuff and I'll even run you over there, so relax.”