Chapter 4

"Be careful. Sometimes the memories you have arent the same as your friends... nor as precious. You may find your happy memory sparks confusion, anger, or even tears in others."
~Muquan Sulda Camakyan, Doctoral Dissertation, Exploring Unexplainable Memory, 84th Remove

"This was weird." Terry thought.

Chase sat down at the table. The coffee was pipping hot. It was just his luck the red checkered cloth of this retro diner seemed to have a tear in it right where he spilled some of his coffee. Now he found himself needing more napkins to wipe up under the table covering so he didn't inadvertently wet his sleeves.

"What's been happening?" Terry inquired of Chase a little perterbed that he still managed to get his elbow wet in the spilled cofffee. "Man, you've been acting off since last year... and don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Sebastian, Barry, and Topper have noticed, too. We're worried about you brother. Is it PTSD?"

Terry had fond memories of Chase and the boys in BUDS. Chase was like an older brother... which was odd since he was the youngests. He had an odd wisdom that seemed to come from some star beyond his days.

"No, it's not PTSD." Chase reassured.

"Then what is it? I mean, I know you don't blabber on like Topper. But sometimes you act like you don't even remember Somalia or Ethopia. It's like you've lost your memory." Terry paused for a moment examining Chase's unphased expression. "And what's more, and probably what made me concerned, you mentioned raiding a house in Afghanistan. When Topper chuckled and asked you what the hell you were talking about, you seemed to get angry and adimantly told us we had been in an Afghani fire fight in some unpronouncable city."

Chase was glad the others weren't here. This was going to require a little bit of planning and some finesse. He remembered the incdent in question. Admittedly, he had been a little bit drunk... hell, who was he kidding. He was hammered. The first chat, he tried to blame it on the alcohol, but this time there was no getting around it.

"I'll get the coffee if you'll leave the tip." Chase said standing from the table.

"Dude, we're not just going to ignore this. I'm worried. The boys are worried about you." Terry said halting him.

"Terry. Follow me." Chase calmly turned to leave.

"Chase... But." Terry interjected.

"Just follow me. Trust me. It's not PTSD. But I can't tell you here."

Terry put a twenty on the table. "That should cover everything." and he gulped the last bit of his coffee before standing. Chase led the way walking the 3 blocks to the campus. It was a nondescript set of buildings. Some brick, a few metal. A single obelisk rose from the middle of the campus. The rest of the facility was enclosed by a tall, iron fence and only 3 well-guarded entrances. Chase figured the only way he was going to fix this was to tell Terry the truth... But that meant recruiting him. He had to fully convinced the Admiral to do the same thing for Topper. It was his fault and he was hoping to avoid major complications.

After entering the campus, the men took a hard left and went directly toward the metal building on the east side of campus.

"This is mission control." Chase said as he swiped a badge at the inconspicuous gray panel to the right of the door. A click and a light buzz and the doors opened automatically. "That's Potter behind the glass. He's the guard. You may not recognize him... but he knows you. That gentleman in the suit is Merrek Ovandir, he's top shelf around here. The lady over there, that's Stacy. She's the Admiral's secretary. She may not look it, but she can knock down a bull and she makes amazing cookies." Then to Stacy, "Hey Stacy. Meet Terry. He's one of the good guys!"

Turning the corner, the gentlemen came to an elevator.

"We must be going down, 'cuz there's no second story." Terry concluded.

"Yep. Downstairs is where the toys are."

"Chase, I'm getting concerned... You're not going to snuff me, are you?" Terry nerviously joked.

Chase cut his eyes toward Terry with a mock sinister grin, "Why, do I need to?" And with a quick chuckle, "Nah, man. I just gotta take you downstairs to show you what's up. I called the Admiral. He's going to meet us there."

"The Admiral?" Terry said confused.

"Oh. Admiral Graves. You don't know him, yet. He's Navy, but I doubt you've ever met him."

A few more steps and they were at a large roll up door. The floors were immaculate. The few people they passed on the way were all wearing what appeared to be BDU's with the one exception of a Major who was clearly in his dress blues and hurried enough to ignore the men as they saluted.

"This is Hangar 11." Chase spred a wry grin, "As you can so clearly see by the words, 'Hangar 11' painted on the door."

Terry wasn't amused.

Using the same access card, Chase opened the small personell door to the right of the larger hangar door. As the door opened, Terry became more aware of a slight, oscilating whir of what sounded like an off balance ventelation fan.

There were more people in this hangar than they had seen thus far. Admiral Graves stepped out of a crowd, easiliy visible for his height.

Both men stopped and saluted.

"Oh, lay off it." Then sternly at Chase, "Is this the one you were talking about?" pointing to Terry.

"Yessir. Served with and the rest of my Squiddies." Chase rattled with a continued level of formality.

The Admiral turned to Terry and patronized "Alright, son. What's your name?"

"Lieutenant Terrance Cambyema. I was a 'Squid' Captain Sir."

"Is lieutenant as far as you got, Lieutenant?" The question was rhetorical, then he continued, "Chase screwed up" glancing at the other man, "and that normally ends differently. But he has assured me that you and this... what was the other gentlman's name, Chase?"

"Topper, sir." Chase responded.

"...This Topper may have been inadvertently come in contact with some confidential and otherwise proprietary information."

Terry glared at Chase. "What the hell have you gotten me into." Terry's thoughts almost screamed from his head.

Then subordinantly, "I am unaware of any such information."

"I know, son. I know. I'm not blaming you. No, that rests squarely on this moron." the Admiral pointed at Chase. "It's not your fault. But, you were in the military and you know what that could mean. There will be a disciplinary action... actions against all 3 of you.

At those words, Terry noticed that Topper had walked up behind the Admiral.

"Topper?" Terry blurted before he could catch himself, "Apologies sir." he corrected himself and returned to the decorum due a superior officer.

"No, it's okay, son. Topper has already been through this... he was here yesterday. Now it's your turn."

Chase took over, "The world you remember is a lie."

* * *

Terry's eyes popped open. It was just before 5AM, of that much, Terry was certain. He hadn't slept past 5AM since his 2nd day in BUDS training unless he was sick... which was almost never.

Terry frequently dreamt of the day he joined the ChronAgency.

Madeline was still asleep and a wedge of moonlight sliced the dark room in the corner. In the distance, Terry could hear roosters crowing and a slight cold breeze could be felt. Terry quickly revived the fire in the pot belly stove that had reduced to coals.

Terry put on his pants and felt the pulse communicator still in place. He quickly, but carefully opened the door and headed down stairs and out towards the outhouse that was several yards away from the back of the inn where the couple stayed the night.

One of the contacts that had been quarried by a prep team hours before they left had set up a horse and wagon for Terry and Madeline to use when they arrived. The horses were still in pasture behind the outhouse and the wagon was just beside the outhouse.

Terry reached under the bench of the wagon. "Yep, still there." as he felt the lever action rifle. Just beside the rifle, he opened a small compartment and pulled out his own sonic neutralizer and a small, black cloth to put over the cut out in the outhouse door and quickly disappeared into the necessary.

After relieving himself, Terry set up the sonic neutralizer. He had been trained on these odd pieces of technology before and understood it was something similar to noise cancelling headphones, except in reverse. Whatever he said was received, transmitted, but his audible voice would go no further than the walls of his confinement. In this case, the sound never made it beyond the rickety boards of the outhouse.

Moments later, the small modules were in place, "Good morning Admiral." Terry saluted.

"Good morning, my ass. And would you stop with the formality, sheesh. This agency works with the military... it is NOT the military... and you're retired last I checked."

"Sorry, sir. Old habits, sir."

"Well, I've got news... It's not a certainty, but our initial 3 scrubs of the major and median historical nodes seem to give us high confidence of Merrek's death." the Admiral seemed relieved. "The evidence is pretty good, but we're still researching. A few more passes through the search crawler and we can give your team the green light... but that will take a while... that level is far more expansive. So, tell your team to keep up the good work and stay on schedule."

"A while, sir?" Terry reiterated.

"Yeah. Your work has passed the first 3 tests. It has 4 more tests to run before we can assess next steps. There may be a total of 10 historical node search crawls... at least that's what the nerds in analytics say... At least 7 will give us a clear picture of if Merrek survived and poluted our historical aims. It was a good note when he didn't show up on the first crawl. With each subsequent crawl, the more certain we are that his presence was not an impact history."

"That's good news, sir." Terry smiled.

"Yes, it is, son." the Admiral smiled slightly. "Anything to report on your end? The current historical line seems unchanged."

"Not really, Sir. We had to move the pod and rendezvous point due to evidence of human activity around those two chosen locations. But we were able to get it moved quickly and out of sight quickly. All is well. We should be starting the first movement this afternoon. Once done, we expect Topper -- I mean, Chris, George, & Marilyn to begin their parts. I'm not sure who else has responsibilities after our chain. We are planning to meet at our revised rendezvous point in 3 days."

"That's good, my boy. Don't tell Sakky about Merrek's death just yet. We need her to be on her 'A' game.

"Yessir." Terry barked.

"Good Job, son. Let's reconnect the morning of your next rendezvous with the team."

Terry saluted and silence filled the outhouse again. He deactivated the neutralizer and turned to flush.

"It's an outhouse, dummy." Terry thought as he exited the outhouse.

* * *

The morning light had already started to break into that daybreak blues of morning. Everything shadow seemed to be waking against an ever lightening sky. As Terry made his way back into the inn where he saw the inn keeper was awake and sweeping the front area as he rounded the corner to go back to the room after pausing to grab 2 pieces of firewood from beside the entryway fireplace. The door creeked ligthly as he pushed the door open.

"Good morning!" sang Madeline who had been up for the last 20 minutes preparing for the day's events. "Where have you been?"

"Oh. I was in the outhouse... the necessary. I was smart enough to bring a small stash of toilet paper in my pocket." Terry proudly held aloft a small roll of toilet paper bound by some grass twine.

"Terry, that's got at least another 60 to 90 years before it appears. You can't bring that stuff back." Madeline Scolded snatching it from his hand.

"It'll be gone in a day or two and no one will know differently. It's not like that stuff stays aroud. Wait, what are you about to do with that?" Terry said confused.

"I'm going to use it." Madeline snipped back.

"I thought it was a no-no?!" Terry rolled his eyes.

"It is. And I'm going to fix it by disposing of the last bit of it for you. Besides, you're not the only one who needs to go. I figured you were out there so I thought I'd give you a minute before I tried the door. Now it's your turn to check the supplies and prep for your part of the day. I'll see you in a few minutes." playfully Madeline chided.

Madeline exited the inn to the outhouse. The inn keeper greeted her as he swept the last of the dirt out the back door. Madeline held the door open for the inn keeper and then turned to go toward the outhouse. The sunlight was just peeking over an eastern ridgeline and the light mist that clung to low places of the open fields were now easily visible. She promised herself at least a few minutes to absorb the morning quiet.