The Unofficial Biography Of Kimmay

Book 2: The Nature Of Power

by G. L. Hudson

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Collected from the Department of Energy using the Freedom of Information Act

 

The office for the Secretary of the Department of Energy was large. The desk was large. The power was large. And he was large. Actually, he was larger than life. Allen Kurtland was 6 feet 6 inches tall and weighed almost 300 pounds. His massive frame filled the oak chair that he sat in behind his desk. His mahogany desk would have dwarfed anyone else, but for Secretary Kurtland everything fit just perfectly.

Allen Kurtland had been in the employment of the President for five years. He had worked for the government on and off for much longer. He had known the President since the President was just a pup. Kurtland had even worked for the President's father.

Allen Kurtland had graduated from Harvard with a Masters in Business Administration. Upon graduation his father brought him into the family business. Father Kurtland owned a small oil company in Texas and was used as an independent partner by several of the big boys to help deflect some of the monopoly charges that the government occasionally threw at the oil companies. Allen's dad bought oil and sold oil, just to make tracing that oil's origin more difficult. When the President's father needed an undersecretary of Energy, Allen Kurtland took the assignment. It gave him important connections and credibility in the private sector. After four years with the government, Kurtland returned to private life. He was hired by the third largest oil company in the world, and ten years later was the CEO.

Kurtland had a soft Texas drawl, and liked to throw Texas stories into his conversation. He presented himself as a down to earth, good-ole-boy from Texas who wouldn't harm a flea. He wanted his adversaries to believe that he was just like a big teddy bear. In fact he was smart, sneaky and ruthless. His childhood had been spent in prep schools in New England. When he did come home to Texas, he wasn't allowed outside the comforts of the family estate. He had servants to handle every little nasty chore in life, and he wanted for nothing. Kurtland was very intelligent. He spoke fluent Farsi and Arabic, was a member of Mensa, and had been close to becoming a Rhodes Scholar. And when he became angry, his Texas drawl was replaced with a hard, New York twang.

Today, Secretary Kurtland was leaning back in his chair and delivering a lecture. He held a Cuban cigar in his huge paw, and would occasionally take a draw and blow the smoke across the desk, and into the face of his guest. His guest was an emissary from one of the royal families located in the Middle East. Mr. Khan hated the cigar smoke and he hated Allen Kurtland. And Mr. Kurtland knew it.

The secretary was concluding his speech, "And it should be abundantly clear to the King, that things are not the same as they used to be. The world is much more interconnected, and what happens in Valdez, Alaska does have repercussions throughout the world. The President has made it abundantly clear that the worldwide transportation costs of oil are of concern to these here United States of America. In fact, in these days of terrorism, we consider every facet of the oil business to be important to our self-defense. We will stick our nose where ever we feel like it and whenever we want. And that includes the King's personal business. Please tell the King that he has my kindest regards and concerns. Then you can tell him to get over it. It's a done deal.

"Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Khan?" Khan was dismissed, and he was eager to leave. Kurtland stunk, both literally and figuratively. As Mr. Khan walked out the door, Secretary Kurtland's next appointment walked in the door. Neither man acknowledged the other. Neither was happy.

Joseph Barber was a small, sycophant with eyes that looked like they belonged to a rodent. He stood across the desk from Allen Kurtland and flashed a phony smile, "Good afternoon Mr. Secretary."

"Barber, sit down and tell me something." Kurtland gave him a warm smile. "What do you do? I mean what is your friggin' title?"

Barber was shaken. He was in deep trouble and he knew it. He had served Secretary Kurtland for almost two years now and he was hoping for some leniency. But it didn't look he was going to get a break today. "Sir, I'm Director of Technology Assessment."

"And what exactly does the Director of Technology Assessment do?"

"I direct a department that scans developing technologies on a world-wide basis, and evaluates their potential impact on the current energy-based economy."

Kurtland growled, "The current energy based economy?"

"The effect of new technologies on the oil industry, sir."

"And how do you do this?"

"We have experts who can watch these developing technologies, judge their potential economic viability and determine if they are a short term, long term or non-existent threats to the oil economy."

"And why do we care Mr. Barber?"

"The oil industry is the basis for the world economy. Disruptions would have far reaching effects on international relations and could jeopardize worldwide economic growth and stability. Right, sir?"

"No that isn't right, Mr. Barber. Let's throw the liberal bullshit aside and be honest. Why do we care?"

"Because the President cares, Mr. Secretary." Barber wasn't sure how far to take his honesty. He waited for a sign from the secretary, but Kurtland remained quiet and stared at Barber. "And because his contributors and friends care." Barber paused for a moment.

"And why do they care?"

"Because oil is money and power and we are currently in control of that money and power and we want to remain in control of that money and power." He threw it all out on the table. What would the secretary do now?

Kurtland changed the subject. "Where were you last week?" Kurtland knew exactly where he was. Barber and a dozen other department heads were enjoying one of the perks they received for working in the public sector. They were sitting on a beach in Hawaii, enjoying an alcoholic drink containing bits of fruit skewered with a paper umbrella, and watching the waves roll in on the black sand beach. They were ostensibly attending a seminar on efficiency and learning how to run their departments more cost effectively. He wasn't sure if that meant they were supposed to spend more money or less money. It was probably the joke of the week at the seminar.

"At a seminar," Joseph Barber whined.

"Oh yea. Hawaii. Did you get laid Mr. Barber?"

"No sir."

"Too bad. So tell me Mr. Barber, when you go on vacation does the rest of your department go with you?"

"No sir."

"Do they just stop working when you leave Mr. Barber?"

"No sir. They are very professional and I assure you that they fulfill their job duties with or without my direct supervision."

"I'm sure they do, Mr. Barber. So let's review how your staff does their job. They check the viability and assess the potential impact of developing new technologies. Do I have that part correct?"

"Yes sir."

"I suppose they read journals and magazines?"

"Yes."

"They probably follow the patent applications on a world-wide basis I would think?"

"Yes."

"I suppose there are key players in some of these developing technologies. What do we do about them?"

"We watch them sir. They are listed as 'Targets of Interest' at NSA and their electronic communications are intercepted and searched for key words. NSA gives us a daily update and we review that update. In addition, we fund their work. They are required to fill out full disclosures of their work and report to us on a semi-annual basis. We review those reports and vette any publications that they write. If they work at an educational facility we follow all the work performed by their graduate students. And in the case of our more interesting parties, we collect humint by placing an agent within their organization or closer."

"Do any new ideas ever slip through, Mr. Barber?"

There it was. Secretary Kurtland was coming to the main issue. Something big had happened and Barber's group had missed it. Now there was a penalty to pay. But how big of a penalty? Barber was worried, and for good reason.

"Mr. Secretary, this is without a doubt the most serious situation that the oil industry has ever faced, and it could have severe repercussions on the security of our nation. I can't believe that NSA wasn't able to pick up on this earlier. They have a list of code words to look for and this should have hit four or five of those keys." Barber tried to deflect the blame as quickly as possible.

"Cut the crap, Barber. This wasn't the NSA's fault and we both know it. This kid is a graduate student at one of our favorite schools. We give them $50 million a year in various grants. Did you go to Princeton, Barber?"

Kurtland knew Barber didn't have the right pedigree. When he was mad, one of his favorite tricks was to make sure that the adversary knew his place. "No sir, I went to Georgia," Barber said proudly.

"Too bad. You probably wouldn't be aware as to how important this school is to certain people in Washington." A nice little slap Kurtland thought. "We hate to embarrass the school or anyone at this school. Looks bad, you know what I mean?"

Barber nodded in agreement.

"So how did this slip through your fingers, Joe?" Formality was gone, intimidation was now blatant. You are a little person named Joe, and I don't have to show you enough respect to use your last name. Kurtland was preparing the victim.

"Sir, it shouldn't have. I know that, and my staff knows that. But we have a small staff and we have to cover a great deal of territory." Kurtland let him continue and gather in some more rope for his noose. "It's a very theoretical field and it was deemed extremely long term and border-line viable."

"So how did he manage to build an operating lab that flies Bucky Balls around the place?"

"I'm not sure yet, sir. He didn't use his own lab, for one thing. He built his prototype in the basement of the physics building under the control of an untargeted professor."

"Didn't your staff read the reports and updates from Princeton? Didn't someone attend their semi-annual forums?"

That was going to be difficult to answer. No one had attended because Kurtland had cut the travel budget so he could throw a party for a very influential senator. If Barber mentioned travel, Kurtland would want to discuss Hawaii in more detail. "Sir, one of my staff who usually covers that was on vacation. His back-up didn't check the schedule." There was no backup and there was no schedule. They had missed it plain and simple. Yes, the budget had been depleted, but the real reason was that the damn forums were usually so boring and esoteric there was no reason to be there. Except for this one time.

"So, you misread the viability of this technology, you misread the progress of this technology and you let it get out in the open. Could you have screwed up any bigger, Joe?"

Barber didn't need to answer that question. But he did have to try and save his job. His only hope was to help with the containment. "Sir, we can contain this. We have the resources."

"How are you going to do that, Joe? The kid knows, his professors know, they sent out preprints by e-mail asking for verification and they even contacted the university lawyers and have issued preliminary patent statements. How are you going to stop this?"

"We invoke the National Security Technology Act. We clamp a lid on it and bring everything in house. We can monitor every one that knows, and we can either ask for their cooperation or intimidate them into killing this work. We've done it before sir."

Kurtland leaned back in his chair. He wasn't sure if he should throttle Barber or feel sorry for the stupid idiot. "You're an expert on field work, right Joe? You can go talk with these people and tell them to drop their life's work, right? You can convince them to put one of the most staggering inventions in human history back in the bottle. Right, Joe? You know how to do this?"

Joseph Barber sat very still and said nothing. The secretary and Joe both knew that this was well beyond Joe's ability or knowledge. Kurtland was going to have to do something extreme, and it was Barber's fault. Barber was the one who had failed, and someone was going to pay for that failure. Barber was going to be fired, but someone else was going to pay even more dearly.

Normally by this time in the conversation Kurtland would be standing directly over his victim, yelling so loud the windows would rattle. His face would be purple, his fake Texas drawl would be gone and his victim would be cringing in his chair. But not this time. This was too serious for theatrics. The secretary was thinking ahead and he wasn't happy with his options. He left Barber sitting in front of him while his mind raced ahead. He had no choice. He would have to call in Kaliber.

He looked over at Barber while he punched the button on his desk. "Hazel, send security in here. Have them escort Barber to his office and give him thirty seconds to collect his personal belongings." He let go of the switch and glared at Barber, "You better get used to flipping hamburgers, Joe. You're through in Washington."

As Barber walked out the door, Kurtland yelled to the outer chamber, "Hazel, I need you." Hazel walked to the door and looked in. "Get Mr. Clover on the phone. ASAP."

Hazel closed the door behind her. "Kaliber, come on in."

A door off to the side of the room opened and Brian Kaliber entered. Kaliber had been Kurtland's personal assistant for almost fifteen years. He followed Kurtland from job to job. Kaliber was a man of many talents, and he was good at all of them.

"Brian, come here and sit down. Did you see everything?"

Brian Kaliber had been sitting in Kurtland's ready room and had watched the Barber conversation on the closed circuit television. "Yea. So what does this have to do with the University of Wisconsin?" He smirked ever so slightly as he asked the question.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, Bucky's Balls. Their mascot?"

"Brian, some times you really know how to piss me off," and Kurtland returned his smile. "Buckminsterfullerenes. They are round molecules of pure carbon. They almost look like a many sided soccer ball. Some whiz kid from Princeton turns out to be a genius with String Theory and Energy Tunneling. He teleported one across a room."

"You mean like science fiction and Star Trek? Holy shit! That's real sci-fi stuff."

"Yea, I have to admit its pretty friggin' amazing. But it does raise some real concerns for us. Can you imagine what that might do to the transportation industry? Long term, we might even beam people around instead of using cars or planes. And the security implications are amazing. How about I materialize a nuke in your office just as the timer reaches zero?"

"Scary stuff. How can I help?"

"A couple of things Brian. I want you to add another job to your resume. Take over Barber's job for a while, would you? Straighten the place out. I never really took the department seriously, but I sure as hell do now."

"I'll prepare a letter for your signature. I can have Hazel pull up the relevant job descriptions to make it all legal."

"Great, I appreciate that. Next, and top priority, let's clamp a lid on this fiasco. Get out to Princeton and talk with the kid and his advisors. We're going to throw a national security injunction over the entire technology. Find out who will cooperate with us and who won't. I want to know everyone who has been told about this. There are school lawyers working on patents. Shut them down. Grab everything in the lab and lock it up in tiny little boxes and loose the boxes. A complete shut down, ok?"

"No sweat. I'll handle everything my self. I need some polygraph people and a psychiatrist or two. I'll ask CIA and TSA for full dossiers on everyone and we'll decide who will cooperate and who will have to be dealt with. Also, you can bet your last barrel of oil that the Defense Department is jumping all over this. They will take it in house and work to develop it on their own."

"I know, and that's why I've got a call into Clover. I want him to lay down the law and call DoD off this."

As if on cue, a buzzer went off on Kurtland's desk. Hazel's voice filled the speaker, "Mr. Clover on the phone, sir."

Kurtland punched the phone, "Mr. Clover, thanks for calling back so quickly. I need to talk with you immediately, it's …"

Clover cut him off, "Does it have anything to do with Princeton?"

Clover knew. That meant Starr at DoD had already contacted him. "Yes, sir."

"What the hell took you so long, Allen?"

"Sorry, I just found out a couple of hours ago. My director was on vacation and like a true bureaucrat he didn't delegate any authority. I didn't find out until he got back. Sir, I presume Starr has already talked with you."

"Yes, he has come and gone while you sat on your thumbs."

"I'm sorry sir. But look, he is going to want to bring this in house. Personally sir, I think that is a mistake. I think we should kill this as thoroughly as possible. It will raise havoc with the industry."

"Calm down Kurtland. I agree. I'm going to talk with the President and I will make sure that he agrees with us. Do you have an action plan?"

"Yes sir. I'm ready to go on your word."

"Go. I'll confirm in writing by this evening, but get your crew moving now."

"Thank you Mr. Clover." Kurtland hung up the phone and gave Kaliber the go sign.

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Source: Valerie Samantha May

 

January 15, 2022. The worst day of my life. I arrived home from school and walked into the salon. I walked in just like I had a thousand times before, dropping my winter coat and backpack at the magazine stand and walking towards mom's office in the back. Only this time something was different. Nobody said, 'Hiya, Valerie' or 'How was school, Cutie?' Everyone remained silent. They watched as I walked across the salon. I felt odd, but I didn't realize why.

I walked into mom's office, and grandma and grandpa were there. They all looked at me and no one smiled. No one said hi. "What?" I asked. I didn't understand why, but I knew something was wrong. Mom came over and fell to her knees and gave me a hug. Now I was scared. "What?" I asked again.

Mom started sobbing into my shoulder. "Cynthia is dead. She was killed in a car accident." I didn't understand. I looked at grandma and grandpa. They didn't smile or say 'Just kidding'. I looked at mom. She still had her head buried in my shoulder. I was missing something. I knew I was, but I didn't know what. This wasn't real.

"Mom?" I asked. She slowly looked up at me, tears cascading down her face. "Mom? What happened?"

She choked back a sob. Grandma and grandpa came walking over. All three of them wrapped their arms around me. I knew this was real, but I didn't accept any of it. I was aloof to the whole situation.

Mom tried to explain, but kept breaking down. "Cynthia is dead. She was in a car accident today. They called from the hospital. They said it was instantaneous. She was at a stoplight and a car ran into her. She died. Cynthia is dead. She isn't coming home. Ever. Ever." And mom grabbed me even tighter and lost it again.

It still didn't sink in. I looked at grandma. My eyes asked the question. "Oh Valerie, I am so sorry. Our beautiful Cynthia is dead." And she turned and buried her face in grandpa's chest. He held her and slowly patted her back. He just looked at me and the tears coming from his eyes wouldn't stop. He shook his head in a mournful negative motion, and held grandma as tight as he could.

I still didn't understand. I refused to understand. I patted mom on the back, but I didn't feel any sympathy for mom. I felt nothing. I just did not understand. I refused to believe what they were saying. Cynthia dead? Cynthia dead? No! I just came home from school and Cynthia was dead? NO! Something was wrong here. Was this a joke? Was I dreaming? Was it April First? Yes. That was it. This was an elaborate joke. This wasn't real.

I had never in my life experienced denial. It was real. It did exist. I could not accept what I had just been told. I just couldn't. But …

"I am so sorry, Valerie," mom sobbed. "Life isn't fair. Life never makes life easy. Everybody hurts. Nothing makes sense."

And neither did mom. She didn't make sense. That was when I saw the truth. No tears came to my eyes. My hands and arms and shoulders trembled. My face got warm. My ears had trouble hearing. Everything was sort of an echo. But I didn't cry. I looked at grandpa and asked him, "What happened?" I wanted the facts. I wanted to know what to do.

"Cynthia was sitting at a red light. She was coming home for the day. She was in downtown Racine, just waiting for the light to turn green. A cop, a police car came screaming around the corner. He was going too fast. He slid right into Cynthia's car and crushed her. He demolished her …" and grandpa broke up. He started sobbing and couldn't continue.

I gave mom a big hug. I squeezed her as tight as I could. I walked over to grandma and gave her a big hug, while she continued crying. Then I gave grandpa a big hug. I was the only one not crying. Someone had to take control of the situation. "Can we go home?" I asked. I gathered everyone and moved them towards the stairwell, and we all walked upstairs. The crying momentarily stopped as I ushered everyone into the living room and made them sit down. I grabbed the TV remote and sat down next to mom.

I turned on the TV, and flipped to a news channel. I expected to see a report on the accident. I expected them to tell me about Cynthia's death. This was the most important thing in my life. In mom's life. In grandma and grandpa's life. Surely they would have interrupted all the soaps and talk shows and have a special news bulletin about the horrific accident. But nothing. I sat there with one arm around mom, and I flipped through channel after channel. Nothing!

Then I thought about Kim. She was in Madison, by herself. She was spending the week with her girlfriend Julie and staying at her house for two more nights. Cynthia had let Kim spend two nights with a friend, and then she went and got herself killed. That wasn't right. You don't leave my sister at a friend's and then go get killed. We had to go get Kim. Someone had to go get Kim now!

"What about Kim?" I asked. "Kim was Cynthia's favorite. Mom? What about Kim? Does she know?" I was a bit hysterical. I loved Kim and even though she was so smart, she was still my little sister. Who was going to tell Kim?

Mom turned to grandma. "Kim doesn't know yet. We have to go get her. Mom? Can we go now? We have to get Kim." Mom was pleading with grandma. Mom was sobbing but she was adamant. She wanted her daughter now.

I looked at the TV and wanted to throw a brick at it. Cynthia had just been killed and they weren't talking about it. They weren't explaining how it could have happened. This was important, why didn't they see that!

I came back to the present. "Mom, can we go get Kim?"

We gathered our purses and car keys, turned off the lights, and headed to the car. It was a long, long drive to Madison.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Collected from the Department of Energy using the Freedom of Information Act

 

Brian Kaliber walked into the office and closed the door. "Hi, Mr. Secretary."

Secretary Kurtland waved him over to a group of chairs by the bookshelves. Kurtland joined him and they both sat down. "Give me the details, Brian. How did it go?"

"Well sir, about as good as could be expected. We collected all of the hard evidence and cleaned out the lab. We purged everything from the lawyer's offices and most of the e-mails sent out. NSA identified all of the recipients we're pretty sure, and they fried everyone's hard drives. We don't know if anyone downloaded the info to their flash memory, there is no way to confirm that. We finished our psyche evaluations, and there is one problem."

"Who?"

"The kid."

"Shit. I hate this. Are you going to handle it?"

"I need your ok, sir. I didn't want to move on my own."

Kurtland stood and walked to his desk. He sat down and looked at his hands. "You know Brian, I like to think of myself as one tough son-of-a-bitch. But once in a while, I have some second thoughts. This isn't easy. I don't like doing it." He never looked at Brian Kaliber. "Do what you have to do," he said and turned away.

The decision didn't bother Brian Kaliber one little bit. Kaliber walked out and closed the door behind him.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Source: Valerie Samantha May

 

It was a tough time for everyone, but it got even tougher for Kim. Two weeks after Cynthia's death, Kim lost one of her heroes. Todd Reimer, the MacArthur Award winner who had invented teleportation was killed in a fire at his home. There were no details released, but rumors indicated very odd circumstances. Three weeks later, Todd's advisor released word that he had not succeeded in teleporting a buckminsterfullerene. They had tried to duplicate his work, and were unsuccessful. They reported that there was contamination in his equipment and that might explain his anomalous findings.

Professor Barnhardt commented to Kim that it must have been difficult to duplicate Reimer's experiment when all of the equipment had been dismantled and removed two weeks earlier. He told Kim that he found the whole situation very strange. He then told Kim something very unusual for him; don't follow up the work. Barnhardt knew that teleportation was one of Kim's favorite topics, and she had spent some time trying to use her math skills to back up what Reimer had done. Barnhardt never told anyone to back away from an academic challenge. He told not only Kim, but all of his graduate students. "Stay away from any work on teleportation." Kim found it all very odd.

The end of the winter/spring semester finally came. Kim was happy to return home for three months and spend some time with her family. The summer was welcomed by both Kim and I, but it wasn't much fun. It was difficult to forget about Cynthia and the accident. Mom had changed. She wasn't as bubbly as she used to be. She went through the motions, but she wasn't as talkative as usual. She spent more time sitting in her office, and she didn't walk around the salon talking with clients like she normally did. We didn't do anything with mom all summer. We used to go on family outings on Sundays, but that summer mom never went out with us. Grandpa and grandma took us out a couple of times, and we did go out with some of our friends and their parents. But mom just refused. She had lots of excuses; she was tired, it was too hot, she had bookwork to do, and on and on. She used to go out on Saturday nights with Cynthia, but now she stayed home. Mom was taking the loss of Cynthia very, very hard. It wasn't until the end of summer that mom finally took the advice of grandma, and she started taking medication for depression.

The insurance company didn't help either. They refused to pay out on Cynthia's life insurance. They used many of the anti-gay and 'pro-marriage' laws against mom. They dragged the legal proceedings through the courts for over a year. And the courts finally agreed with the insurance company. Then we argued that grandma and grandpa should have the money. Again the insurance company dragged out the proceeding s and eventually won. They owned the court system and they knew it. Mom even asked Kristal if she could help. She was a United States senator and had some serious clout, but even Kristal couldn't get the insurance company to pay out any money.

We not only did not receive Cynthia's life insurance money, but in the end we spent double the amount fighting the insurance company. It was obvious that the little people in this country no longer had any chance for justice. The large companies had stacked the deck against the ordinary citizens.

 

With mom so despondent, and Cynthia not around, Kim spent large chunks of time at the public library. I wasn't sure what she was researching there, since I doubted the library had any material that was as advanced as Kim. But I do know she spent time on the Internet. As we found out later, Kim had Cynthia's library card. With Cynthia's card, Kim could access age-sensitive material. She had a very strange encounter one day.

Kim admitted that she had used Cynthia's card a couple of times. One day she was searching through newspaper archives from the Princeton area, looking for information on the death of Todd Reimer. While she was doing this, a woman walked up to Kim.

"Excuse me, that librarian at the end of the counter over there," she pointed towards the counter, "asked me to tell you that she would like you to go over there. She wants to talk with you." Kim looked at the woman. There was something familiar about her. She was short and pretty with long, straight black hair, and she had an engaging smile. Kim logged off and stood up. "And on the way over there, I strongly suggest that you tear up the library card you used to log into the computer system, and throw it away before you get there."

Kim was stunned. But she did what she was told. Half way to the counter she stepped between a stack of books and tore up Cynthia's card. She dropped half into one wastebasket and half into another. Before she reached the counter, two large men in long coats walked up to the librarian and started talking with her. She pointed to the workstation that Kim had been using. The black haired woman was still sitting there. Kim stepped back and watched.

The librarian followed the two men over to the station. Kim couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a short discussion one of the men grabbed the black haired woman by her arm and jerked her to her feet. Each man took one arm and walked the woman towards the door. She smiled as they walked past Kim. Kim watched as she was hurried out the door. It was over in less than five minutes.

The librarian went back to her counter and several of the librarians started talking in hushed tones. Kim walked over to the counter and caught the librarian's attention. Kim was trying very hard to keep her voice calm. "Excuse me, were you looking for me?"

"No," was the response. "Was I supposed to be helping you with something?"

Kim shook her head and immediately left. Kim walked home and went up-stairs without saying anything to mom. She called Andromeda, but Andromeda must have been sleeping or hiding. She curled up on the couch and watched a science channel on the television wondering if she should tell mom what had happened.

I came home and found Kim sitting on the sofa. I asked her what she had been doing and she told me about the episode. "What were you doing on the Internet?"

"I was looking up newspaper articles on Todd Reimer."

"Was he the guy who did that teleportation stuff?" I asked.

"Yea."

"Didn't Professor Barnhardt say you should forget about him?"

"Yea."

"Maybe he was right," I said.

Kim thought about that for a minute. "Should I tell mom what happened?"

"I don't think so," I answered. "I don't think mom needs any more stress." Kim was really smart, but in some ways she was too naïve.

That incident happened early in the summer, in mid June. Kim stopped going to the library for a while. She stayed at home and read her textbooks and did her homework. As usual, Kim had brought home a couple of textbooks for her summer studies. Once in a while she would take her books down to the salon and sit in mom's office and do her work. Now and then one of the beauticians would poke her head into the office and ask Kim what she was studying. Kim would tell her and she would walk away shaking her head. Simon was the only one who had even the slightest clue what she was doing. Popular physics was an interest of his, but Kim was light years beyond anything he understood.

Professor Barnhardt had also given her a couple of physics problems concerning energy tunneling. They concerned some theoretical points and the math was very complicated. In fact, no one had been able to solve these problems. Professor Barnhardt thought they could push Kim's ability to her limit. By August Kim had solved the Professor's math problems. She told me first, when mom wasn't around. "When Professor Barnhardt gave me these problems, they were very abstract."

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning, I thought they were just math problems with no practical application to the real world. And I wonder if he thought they were much more than math problems. He probably understood some of their usefulness, but I really don't think he understood as much as I do now."

"What did you discover?" This sounded interesting. Kim was learning something that even the world famous professor didn't know.

"If I'm right, I think these equations can explain some really interesting things concerning energy tunneling theory. I think it proves that there are indeed ten plus one dimensions, and they interact with each other. We might be able to perform magic in one group of dimensions and move the results to another. And even more interesting are some of the things that we can do with gravitons. We can make our own black holes whenever we want, and then we can make them disappear."

"Sounds neat," I said. "Have you told your professor yet?"

"Not yet, I'm not sure how much to tell him. I think I'll give him the math answers, but I'll hold off on telling him what I think the implications are." Just then Andromeda jumped up on Kim's lap. Kim hugged her friend and asked Andromeda what to do. "What do you think, Andromeda? Should I tell Professor Barnhardt everything I know?" What Andromeda did next was really weird. Andromeda clearly looked Kim in the eyes, waved her head in a negative, sideways motion and gave a very melancholy meow. Andromeda had just said no. "I guess that settles it. He gets only the answer, and not the interpretation," Kim announced to us both.

Kim and I walked down to the salon and asked mom if we could use her AV-phone. She was busy with a client and asked why. "I have to send my homework to Professor Barnhardt."

"Say hi for me, darling," and she waved us towards her office.

I sat in mom's big soft chair while Kim sat down behind mom's desk. She dialed up Professor Barnhardt's office and waited for him to answer. He wasn't in, but Kim left a message and then she sent over three pages with her hand written answers. "I hope they're right," she said. "Bye for now." Kim, Andromeda and I went outside to see if any of our friends were hanging out in the neighborhood.

We came back a couple hours later and checked for messages. Neither of us had any, so we hung out upstairs waiting for mom to finish up for the evening. When she finally closed up the salon, it was past our normal dinnertime. We were both hungry and offered to help mom cook dinner. It was the first time that the three of us had worked and talked together since Cynthia had died. It was really nice, and mom actually seemed better. She had been on anti-depressants for a full month and they must have been starting to help.

We sat down to eat and mom changed the conversation from food to school. "Professor Barnhardt called me earlier tonight. He was very impressed with your work, Kim."

"Really? What all did he say?"

"Well, it wasn't just the fact that you answered the problems, but you did it in a very simplified manner, he said."

"Neat! Did he say anything else?"

"Yes. He will call you tomorrow around 9:00 to talk with you about your work. But he also said that he was sending your answers to some other people. He said that he wants other people who are smarter than him to review your work. There are people smarter than your Professor?"

"Yea, me," bragged Kim.

 

Kim was bouncing around the house and salon the next morning. She was sitting in mom's chair drinking orange juice when Professor Barnhardt called. "Hi Kim. How are you today?"

"Good."

"Is it raining in Milwaukee?"

"Nope."

"It will soon. It's raining cats and dogs here." Kim looked at Andromeda and tried to imagine cats falling from the sky. "I received your homework, did your mom tell you?"

"Yea, she told me at dinner last night."

"Kim, I was really impressed with your answers. What you did went well beyond my wildest expectations. It's not just that you came with a solution, but the way you came up with the solution. Your proof was simple but broad. In fact, it was broad enough that if others agree with your solution it opens up some interesting avenues. I have sent your answers to a group of referees for different journals. If they agree, you will be published. Congratulations."

"Wow. Thanks Professor."

"Kim, I would like you to come back to school as soon as you can. I want to talk with you in more detail about your work. Is your mom available? I would like to talk with her about you coming back to Madison."

"Let me see, can you hold?" Kim took off before Barnhardt could answer.

Mom returned to her office and greeted the Professor. "Mrs. May, first may I extend my condolences concerning your partner Cynthia. It was very sad."

"Thanks."

"I want to tell you, you have a very, very talented daughter. I sent her answers to one of my colleagues. He is the most outstanding mind in the world of theoretical physics. He has the Lucasian Chair at Cambridge. Professor Blasingham called me early this morning and said that he wanted to review your daughter's work for a while longer before he confirmed the proof. He said that it could be the most outstanding step in theoretical physics in the last fifteen years. Very high praise indeed, Mrs. May."

"Thank you Professor. We are all very proud of Kim."

"Mrs. May, I really want to have Kim back here at Madison as soon as possible. I know that will be difficult for you and your family, and I would like to help. I would like to invite Kim to stay with my wife and me this year. We would be honored if you would say yes."

"That is a wonderful offer, Professor. Can I get back to you later? I would like to discuss it with Kim and her grandparents. Can I call you back tomorrow?"

"Of course, Mrs. May. If you would like, you can call my wife." The professor gave mom his wife's AV-phone number and said good-bye.

"Mom, is it ok?" Kim asked.

"We'll see. Would you do me a favor? Call grandma and ask her and grandpa to come over for dinner tonight. You should tell her why. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course." Mom returned to the salon and her clients, while Kim called her grandmother.

 

Grandma and grandpa joined us for dinner that night. It didn't take long to come to agreement on Kim. With Cynthia gone, everyone knew it would be difficult to keep up the routine of helping Kim go to school seventy miles away. They agreed to let Kim stay with Professor Barnhardt and his wife.

Kim left for school the following Monday. In her first years at Madison she returned home every weekend, but now her trips home became less and less. We saw her over Labor Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas that semester. We combined her thirteenth birthday with Christmas. She made her first plane trip that semester when Professor Barnhardt took her to England and the campus of Cambridge in England. She met Professor Blasingham, the man who held the Lucasian Chair in mathematics. That was the same chair that had been held by Newton, Dirac and Hawking. Professor Blasingham labeled Kim the next potential genius in theoretical physics.

Her math solutions were published in one of the more prestigious journals, and also had an editorial by Professor Blasingham concerning the potential for the use of her new mathematical solutions and the theories that it supported. The article was picked up by a New York paper, which described her as 'a genius in a long line of teenage phenoms in the area of theoretical sciences'. They misspelled her name as Kimmay, and that quickly stuck in the public's mind. The teenage phenom Kimmay was born in the winter of 2023.

The interesting thing was no one fully understood the ramifications of Kim's findings. She told me that many of the physicists were engaging in hyperbole when they described some of the things they would be able to accomplish with Kim's solutions and methods. But none of them seemed to know what Kim knew. She still hadn't told anyone the interpretations that she had made, and instead she told me that she was going to try and work on them independently. I asked her why she didn't at least tell Professor Barnhardt.

"I don't know for sure. I think back to that lady in the library. She was warning me about something, and the more that I think about it, the more concerned I've become. Those two men were huge and they dragged her out like a Barbie doll. That could have been me. I think. And Andromeda's reaction afterwards. It's pretty strange to go on the advice of a cat, but somehow I think she was right. Call it a stupid hunch, but I think I will keep it secret for a little longer. Maybe someone else will figure out what I have."

Kim continued to spend less time at home. She started to spend so much time at school and with different professors that she started to dress and act like them. Mom wasn't very happy with the way Kim was dressing. "You're blossoming into a beautiful young lady, and you dress like a college slob," she would tell Kim. Every time Kim came home, mom would march her down to the salon for a manicure or to have her hair trimmed and set. Mom insisted that Kim receive a perm at least twice a year. Kim wasn't allowed to wear jeans or pants around the house, and mom would send her back to her room for a skirt or dress if she showed up at the breakfast table wearing jeans. I told mom that if she kept harassing Kim, she wouldn't come home at all. "Nonsense, there is nothing wrong with taking pride in your self and your appearance. Your appearance is more important than either of you realize!"

When Kim was at home, we had a great rapport between us. You would think that being apart so much we wouldn't have as much in common; conversation would be a struggle to find common ground. But that wasn't the case at all. I think she needed someone beside an academic person to talk with once in a while. I would keep her updated on mom and grandma and grandpa, and I would tell her about my latest boy friend and what her old girl friends were up to. She in turn would tell me about her life. She was doing a fair amount of travel. She was invited to seminars and conferences and asked to make appearances and give papers. She would tell me about the travel and about her daily school life.

Once in a while we would talk about her studies. She was pushing physics into new territory and she only shared about half of it with Professor Barnhardt. I was the only one she could tell everything. And I understood almost nothing about her studies. But I was a relief valve. She was holding back some exciting ideas and she wanted to tell someone. I was that someone. I was one of the few people in the world that knew how to build a black hole, how to teleport a molecule and how to slip energy between different dimensions. She always used the word magic when she talked about some of these things. And they certainly did sound like magic.

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Source: Valerie Samantha May

 

We followed Kim's career through her mid-teens, and mom kept a scrapbook of Kim's exploits. Nothing made mom angrier than the name Kimmay. Her name was Kim May. She corrected anyone who slurred the two names together. When clients would come to the salon and ask about Kimmay, she would always stop the woman and enunciate the name correctly for her. Kim May. Mom was very proud of Kim, even if she dressed like a slob at times. But when Kim turned seventeen a letter came that sent mom into a frenzy. She made an AV-phone call that day. She had to leave a message, "Miss Gayle, this is Melissa May at `Lissa's Salon, I'm calling to confirm your appointment."

Several years earlier, the United States government decided they wanted to take over the world. Actually it wasn't the people of the United States that wanted this, but some very power hungry men who were able to grab control and then exert their philosophy on the government. They had very definitive ideas concerning religion, oil and power. They started invading sovereign countries to enforce USA control over those governments and their economies. Much of the military action was concentrated in countries with large oil wealth. Their military incursions raised tensions around the world. Guerilla warfare and civil wars broke out in the occupied territories. Terrorism aimed at United States companies and institutions expanded around the world. The administration had over extended itself and slowly realized the problem. The United States did not have the manpower to maintain the aggressive foreign commitments that they had made. They had alienated their foreign partners and friends and had nowhere to turn for help. They were forced to re-institute the draft. All seventeen year old citizens, men and women, were required to make themselves available for medical examinations performed under the auspices of the Pentagon and their local Selective Services Boards. At age eighteen all those who had passed their physical became eligible for the draft. The local Selective Service Boards chose whomever they needed to make their quotas. The poor went to war, and the privileged stayed home.

Unfortunately, most Americans had the mentality of a high school student. Unable to see past the adolescent viewpoint of sexism, machismo, and the fear of being labeled 'independent', they quietly acquiesced to the will of the power-brokers, and the rich. The young were pushed into the meat-grinders.

Kim's order to report for medical examination arrived December 12, 2026. Mom was worried. In fact, mom was close to hysterical. She called Kim and told her that she had to report on January 20, 2027 to the Milwaukee Armory for her examination. Kim wasn't happy either, especially since the order had been mailed to Mr. Kim May. Kim had no idea what to expect, but mom acted like she knew. She contacted Jennifer Gayle through Jennifer's back channel.

Jennifer walked into `Lissa's salon late the next afternoon. Jennifer dropped off an envelope and left. Mom took the envelope to her office, opened it, read it, and then tore it up and threw it away. Half an hour later she left the salon in the hands of Rose as she walked out the back door. Jennifer was sitting at a booth in the back of Vern's when mom arrived. Melissa sat down across from Jennifer. Jennifer held her finger to her lips and placed a small box on the table. She pushed the green button on top.

Jennifer extended her hand across the table, "Hi Melissa, its good to see you again. It's been a long time." She gave Melissa a big smile.

"Thanks Jennifer. It's good to see you again. What's this?" and she pointed at the box.

"A scrambler. You should know that just about everything we do and say is recorded. Every electronic communication in the world is intercepted by the NSA."

"Everything?"

"Everything. Certain United Stated citizens, such as U.S. senators, used to be exempt, but not anymore. And along with electronic eaves dropping, there are many random and directed intercepts. You don't know who is under surveillance anymore. It might be you, or it might be me. Big Brother is everywhere," she said with disgust. Jennifer rarely wore her emotions on her sleeve, but the current situation clearly disturbed her.

The waitress came over and they both ordered a soft drink.

"I never had any idea that this was going on," Melissa said.

"You're not supposed to know. You are supposed to think that this is the land of the free and the home of the brave. Not anymore."

"Even senators are spied on?"

"It didn't used to be that way. But a couple of years ago, someone released some information that was embarrassing to the administration. It was traced back to a senator or representative and so they started spying on everyone. You have no idea how little freedom you have. You are completely at the mercy of a bureaucrat in Washington D.C. If someone screws up, or decides he doesn't like you, your life as you know it is over. And you won't even know why. Melissa, it is very scary. Kristal is very worried about our future."

Jennifer stopped while the waitress brought the drinks. "But enough of politics, you need some help, what can Kristal and I do for you?"

A look of panic filled Melissa's eyes. "It's Kim. She just got a letter from the draft board. Mr. Kim May has been called in for her medial examination. Jennifer, you have to do something. They'll destroy her. They will stop at nothing to totally humiliate and torture her. Please Jennifer, you have to stop it. They did it to me and I know what they'll do to her. You can't let it happen." Melissa was starting to ramble and she was starting to sniffle.

Jennifer reached across the table and took Melissa's hand. "Melissa," she cooed. "I know exactly how you feel. Don't worry. I will do everything I can to take care of Kim. I want you to know that Kristal continuously follows Kim's career. We are both very proud of her. We will help you. Both of you. Don't worry."

They talked for a while longer, and then Melissa left to return home. Christmas was just a few weeks away, and already it had been ruined by this threat hanging over Kim's head. And the comments about spying sent shivers up Melissa's spine. She had no idea how pervasive the government spying had become. She knew from her run in with the TSA many years ago that the government was getting out of control, but now it was so bad that they had a U.S. senator worried for her own privacy. What was wrong with this country?

Fortunately, Kristal understood Melissa's anxiety. She sent Melissa an early Christmas card with an ending note, 'Merry Christmas and I know everything will be wonderful for you in the New Year'. It helped a little.

 

 

On January 20, 2027, Andromeda woke Kim like she always did. As soon as the alarm clicked on to Kim's favorite radio station, Andromeda would walk on top of Kim, look her in the face and give out a loud meow while she stretched. Kim always gave Andromeda a little scratch behind the ears. Kim climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She cleaned up, but didn't put on any makeup. She was sure that today would not be a good day to look cute and feminine. She put on an old pair of jeans and an oversized Marquette University sweatshirt, then pulled her freshly permed hair back into a ponytail and slid a scrunchy up tight against her head. When she arrived for breakfast, mom didn't say a word about how she was dressed.

Mom gave Kim a hug and wished her luck. Kim and I walked down the back stairs to mom's car, and I drove Kim to the Armory and dropped her off just a bit before 8:00 A.M. Kim walked in and handed her letter to a bald headed man sitting at the front desk. He pointed her towards a door and smiled. "Have fun, sweetie," he said sarcastically as she headed towards the door. Kim shuddered. She knew it was going to be a horrible day.

 

Excerpted from personal conversations with Senator Horn and Jennifer Gayle

After Jennifer returned from Milwaukee she met with Senator Horn and filled her in concerning Cynthia's request. Kristal and Jennifer discussed some options and came up with a game plan. Kristal had her senior male staff member join the conversation, and without telling Mike anything about Kim, she instructed him to identify the major players at the Milwaukee armory and start collecting background information. Senator Horn wanted all the dirt on all of the major players. Mike was to set up an official tour of the Milwaukee facility for January 20, and Senator Horn and her staff would arrive the night before and spend the day on tour.

Kristal, Jennifer and Mike arrived at 7:30 on January 20. They met with Colonel Noleff in his office and discussed the day's schedule over a cup of coffee. At 8:10 they headed downstairs to meet the day's newest batch of eligible recruits. Mike had a leather satchel on a long strap thrown over his shoulder. It had ten official looking files in it. The Pentagon never released personnel files to anyone, and that included senators, but these looked just like the real thing.

 

Source: Valerie Samantha May

Kim was instructed to walk into a large room with a concrete floor and stand on a pair of footprints that had been painted on the floor. All told, there were 68 young, seventeen year old boys standing in the room waiting for their instructions. Colonel Noleff walked out in front of the group, while the senator and her group stood off to one side. On the other side of the room stood three of Colonel Noleff's doctors.

"I am Colonel Noleff," he announced in a large, booming voice. He strutted across the front of the room like a bandy-legged rooster. "I am commander of this unit. You are here for your physical examinations to judge your fitness for service in the United States Armed Forces. Pay attention and do as you are told and this day will proceed quickly for every one. Screw up and you will be here until midnight. Is that clear?" No one said a word. "We must have a bunch of girls here today. Is that clear?" he held.

A few of the boys muttered, "Yes."

"I will call your name, and you will answer 'Here'. Adams, Kyle."

"Here."

Noleff started down the list. He got down about a quarter of the way and reached, "Collins, Andrew."

"Here." Collins was standing in the front row. He was short and about fifty pounds over weight. Typical of his age, his face had a few pimples.

"Like pork chops, do you Collins?" Collins winced but said nothing.

"Cousin, Mathew."

"Here."

"Dubetz, Kam."

"Here."

"Elton, James."

"Here"

"Finke, George." George Finke was also in the first row. He was very slim and he also had pimples on his face, the typical scourge of teenage boys everywhere. Finke answered. Noleff looked up, and then walked over to stand in front of him. "Momma don't feed you boy?" He didn't answer. "Answer me when I ask you a question boy."

"My mother is dead. I cook for my family."

The response didn't faze Noleff a bit. "Better stay away from the fried food, boy. Those zits are taking over."

Kristal watched and waited. She didn't move a muscle or shift a foot. She waited for Noleff to continue his assault.

"Gable, Raymond."

"Here."

"Gantz, Frank." A small, "Here," came from a black boy standing near the back. "Speak up boy! Is that all the louder you get when playing ball down in the projects?"

Noleff continued to work through the list. He reached the critical name, "May, Kim."

A high pitched, feminine voice said, "Here".

"What was that? We have some Lulu from Lavender City here? Where are you?"

A hand went up in the back. Noleff started walking towards the hand. So did the senator and her staff. Noleff stopped in front of Kim. "What have we here? Some little faggot trying to skip out on his responsibilities to Uncle Sam?"

Kim's eyes opened wide when she saw Senator Horn step over in front of Colonel Noleff. In a calm voice, but loud enough for Noleff's doctors to hear up front she said, "Colonel Noleff, is this how you greet all of the men and women who come here? With derision and sarcasm?"

"Senator, this is my command and I will handle it as I see fit and proper."

"And I asked you a question Skippy, is this how you always treat the men and women that the United States of America sends to you for a physical examination?"

Colonel Noleff's face began to turn red. "You will address me as Colonel Noleff or I will have you escorted out of my building, is that understood?" His voice was controlled rage.

"How about Butterball, then? Should I address you as Mr. or Colonel Butterball? We know it's not Doctor Butterball, don't we?" The doctors standing in the front tried to refrain from grinning. So did Kim. Colonel Noleff's ears started to turn red.

"Senator, you will leave now."

"No Colonel, I won't be leaving now. I have been standing here watching your demeanor long enough. Frankly, you are a disgrace to that uniform. You were not sent to this command to demean, badger, insult or intimidate these fine, young men and women. You weren't even sent here to give them a physical. Were you Colonel? Why were you sent here Colonel? Answer me. Answer everyone in this room. Now, Colonel. Why … were … you … sent … here?" The senator had raised her voice only a couple of decibels, but her tenor had changed dramatically. She had just taken charge.

Colonel Noleff just stared at her and clenched his fists. Jennifer took a step closer. The file in Mike Master's satchel explained full well why Colonel Noleff had been sent to a command that handled physical examinations of recruits and potential recruits. It was his last chance. It was a part of a plea bargain that had saved him from a court martial.

"Perhaps we can finish this discussion in my office." he suggested.

"That might be a good idea." She didn't use his military rank just to reinforce his rage. "But first, you owe Kim, May an apology. And I want it loud enough so that everyone in this room can hear it."

Noleff stood in front of Kim, and glared at Senator Horn. "We're waiting," the senator said. The top of Noleff's head was now red. Kim tried to help. She didn't smile or grin.

"Young man, I apologize."

There was no doubt in anyone's mind, that the person standing in front of Noleff was not a young man. Even dressed in oversized jeans and sweatshirt, she was obviously a pretty girl.

"Colonel Noleff, I think you can do better than that. Let's go back to your office. And you," she pointed at Kim, "you come with us also. Mr. Masters, take Colonel Noleff's roll-call list and hand it off to one of the other doctors, and then please join us in the Colonel's office." Mike took the list and handed it to one of the grinning doctors. They had obviously appreciated the show.

The five of them proceeded quietly to the commander's office. The door was closed behind them. "Colonel, please take your seat. Everyone else, please sit also." Colonel Noleff was livid. He was still red from his chin to the top of his baldhead. He was trying desperately to regain his composure in the confines of his office. It didn't help that Senator Horn had immediately taken control of the conversation again.

Senator Horn went back to work. "You certainly don't make things easy Colonel. Not for us and certainly not for your self." Noleff looked puzzled. "I suppose even now, you don't know why we're here, do you Colonel?" He did not, and he didn't want to admit it. He remained silent. Kristal continued, "Your performance out there was abysmal. Pathetic. So tell me, how do you like to be humiliated in public?"

Noleff still did not answer. But he started to squirm in his seat. Maybe something was starting to penetrate that dense military fortress around his brain.

"Remember Skippy?" Kristal asked. Noleff's eyes narrowed. "Isn't that what your mommy called you when you were little? The neighborhood kids made fun of the name, didn't they? Of course what they called you was even worse. Butterball? You were a tad bit over weight, weren't you? How often did Butterball get picked last in gym class?"

Noleff finally responded. "All right, senator, you have made your point. We don't need to reminisce any longer."

"Maybe we should, Colonel. You seem to have forgotten how difficult it is to be a kid. You act like you don't remember how painful that teasing can be. You went through it as a child and you learned nothing. Here you are in a position of authority, and now you're being the playground bully. Trying to get even for all of the humiliation that you had to suffer?"

Kristal paused for that to soak into Noleff's little mind. "I'm sorry that you see it that way senator. But these kids are going to have to protect this country, and they had better grow up. They're going to see a lot worse than a couple of insults." Noleff's arrogance was crawling back into his demeanor.

"How many of these kid's have been drafted yet, Skippy?"

"Senator, I have had enough of your insubordination. You will address me as Colonel Noleff or I will have you forcibly thrown out of here!"

"You still don't get it, do you Colonel? Why do you think I'm here?" Noleff backed down a bit. He had no idea why Senator Horn was here. He thought it was a routine photo-op for her.

"I don't even represent this state," she said. "I'm not here to collect a free trip home, shake hands with a few constituents and collect a couple of re-election checks. I'm here because of you."

Noleff sat back in his chair. "Why are you here senator?" The arrogance had dropped a bit but the defiance hadn't.

Kristal looked at Mike, and he reached into his satchel and pulled out an official looking file. Noleff watched as Kristal made a big operation of opening the file and looking through it. "I'm here because you are on your last legs, it turns out. I have received dozens of complaints about you and your mouth. Some of those complaints are from people who donate lots of money to different causes and elected officials. They are not happy with the way you carry out your duties." She paused, "What did you say to that black kid about playing back in the projects? How racist do you think that sounds? Do you think there are no black generals that are hearing about this? I can certainly tell you that there are some black elected officials who are hearing about you.

"One more strike and you're out Colonel, and you know it. You're here biding your time because this isn't the first time your mouth has gotten you into trouble, is it? How are you going to pay off those credit card bills without a pension or a paycheck? How long will your wife and kids stick around after you get a dishonorable discharge and you can't buy them off anymore? Do you think your wife will be so quick to put down the phone the next time you shove her across the kitchen?"

It was finally starting to sink into Noleff's thick skull. The senator knew everything. He wasn't going to be able to bluff her.

"Let's be perfectly clear about something," Kristal continued. "You are either too stupid or too arrogant to do your homework, Colonel. Otherwise you would know that I sit on several committees that have oversight of Pentagon activities. And while I don't perform your annual performance appraisal, I can certainly influence the people that do. And frankly, I don't believe that you deserve the right to wear that uniform."

Kristal stood and took a short walk around the room. "Faggot? Did I hear you correctly? You called this young, American citizen a faggot?"

Noleff sat in silence.

"Colonel …?" Kristal asked.

"Yes, senator I did. Mr. Kim, I apologize."

Kristal became very angry. She blew up. "Mr. Kim?" she yelled, emphasizing the mister. "Colonel, take another look at the person sitting in that chair. Does she look like a mister?"

"Senator, he was called in with a male class for examinations. I therefore can safely presume that he is a mister." Noleff emphasized the 'he'.

"There is that narrow, little mind hiding your bigotry and racism again. Look at her. Does she look like a boy? She is without a doubt one of the most beautiful teenagers that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. It should be obvious even to a regular army bozo, that this is no boy. This girl is obviously a transsexual. This is the land of the free, isn't it Colonel?" He kept quiet. "She is allowed to make this choice isn't she?"

Again the Colonel remained silent. "Answer me Colonel. Is it against the law for this girl to be a transsexual?"

"No." He was about to add something and Kristal leaned towards him to hear exactly what he was going to say. Noleff changed his mind.

"What do you do with transsexuals Colonel? How do you fill out the forms and rate them?"

He wasn't sure. He ran this post, was officially responsible for the results and paperwork, and he didn't really know. He stuttered and started guessing, "After a full physical examination by all of the physicians, if they come to that same conclusion, he … she will be rated … unacceptable for military duty and that will be entered into her file."

"Who makes that decision?" Kristal asked.

"The doctors."

"Do they make the final decision? Or do you sign off also, Colonel?"

"I would of course have to review all the final decisions. Most of them are routine, so they just move through the system."

"Before we continue with our interview Colonel, I suggest you do the right thing and handle her paperwork and then send her on her way."

"Senator, she has to be seen by the physicians and they must sign off first. They must agree that she is truly a transsexual and not just trying to scam the United States Military."

Senator Horn was close to blowing a gasket – she could put on a very convincing show. "You want to see a little tit, Colonel? Is that what you are telling me? Do you honestly think some seventeen year old boy can dress like this and look like this?" No answer from the Colonel. For the first time in the interview Kristal yelled at full volume. "Colonel, either do the right thing or I walk out of here with your career. Which is it going to be?"

He hesitated for just a second. Senator Horn motioned everybody up with her hands and handed Noleff's file back to Mike. Noleff quickly came to his senses, "Senator, please wait. I think we can handle this right now." He picked up his phone and waited for the secretary to answer, "Jill, I want you to go see Dr. McGowan right now and tell him to bring back the May file. NOW!"

The senator gave Noleff a slight nod. "Perhaps we can break for a minute. Miss May, would you step out into the hall with me, please?"

Kim followed Kristal out the door and down the hall to the front door. They stepped outside and walked down to the parking lot. Kristal didn't say a word and Kim followed suit. When their view of the building was blocked by a large van, Kristal turned to Kim, "Kim, how have you been? It's good to see you again."

"Oh Kristal, thank you, thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here."

"I'm afraid I do, Kim. Jerks like that should be flogged and fired."

"You certainly put him in his place."

"Actually Kim, I didn't. The minute I leave he will be worse than ever. I've seen his type before. It is amazing how he could have had such a miserable childhood and then turn around and do the exact same thing to other people."

"Well, maybe someday he will get his reward. But I am so glad to see you. It has been a long time since we talked. I follow everything you do in Washington."

Kristal smiled, "I follow everything you do, although I have to admit that I have no clue as to some of those things you write and talk about. You are one amazing girl. Keep up the good work."

Kristal paused so that Kim understood the subject was being changed. "Kim, you are moving into some politically charged territory with your studies. If things don't look right to you, step away. I don't mean from a technical view, but politically. If you have any questions, you contact me or Jennifer. I'm very serious about this. Don't contact me directly with a problem. If you have to contact me directly, don't send me anything other than a casual greeting. I'll assume you want to talk and I'll find you. For emergencies take this card and memorize it, then destroy it." She handed Kim a card with Ms. J. Gayle's name and telephone number. "It's best to contact me through Jennifer.

"You don't need to repeat this to anyone, except your mother and she already knows, but everything you say or do is watched. We're standing in this parking lot because every room in that building is probably bugged. That is why I never referred to you as Kim May, but rather as May, Kim. Also, everything that you do electronically is swept up by the NSA and fed through computers that search for keywords. Your work is undoubtedly on their watch list and so are you. Be careful what you write and say. Kim, I am not exaggerating any of this. Watch your caboose. It's too pretty to lose." She gave Kim a smile.

Kim was stunned. "Ok," was all that she could utter. A thousand questions started forming in her mind, but none of them came out.

"We need to get back to Noleff's office. Remember, you don't know me. I brought you out here for a little chat and to let you regain your composure. That is all. Ok, are you ready to head back in?"

Kim stopped, "Yes. Kristal thanks again. I wish I could give you a big hug. Will you come to our house tonight?"

"I can't Kim. I can't be seen with you after today. We will have to wait at least several months before I can visit. Let's go back now."

They walked back down the sidewalk, up to the front door and entered. Jennifer had been standing guard at the door. The three of them joined Mike and returned to Noleff's office. Noleff wasn't there but he returned about five minutes later. He had a file in his hand. "Everything has been handled for May," he said.

"May I?" and the senator held out her hand for the file. Noleff handed it over. She read it and then handed it to Mike, "Make two copies, one for me and one for the young lady." Mike took the papers and left. "Congratulations, Colonel. A nice first step. A small step, but at least we have a start." Noleff gave her a sarcastic little smile.

Mike returned with the papers and gave them back to Kristal. She handed the file to Noleff and one copy to Kim. "Keep that in a safe place young lady. Do you think she needs to stay any longer Colonel Noleff?"

Noleff was glad to be rid of her, "Not at all. You may go."

Kim said thank you and walked out the door. Neither Noleff nor any of his subordinates realized that day that the world famous Kimmay had been there.

 

Kim called me late in the morning. She was done and wanted me to come pick her up. "What happened?" I asked.

"I'll tell you later. Please come get me."

When I did pick her up, she was still vague about her experience. She begged off all explanations with a, "Please, let me tell you later. First, drop me off at the library on the way home."

She was just as mysterious when she came home at 6:30. She walked into the salon and started inspecting all of the equipment. "Kim, how was your day?" asked Simon.

"Ok." She looked at the hair dryers, the music system, the television and the suntan beds.

"Kim," Mom yelled over the sound of a hand held hair dryer, "come here, I want to talk with you."

"Not now mom, when is dinner?" Kim was acting very weird.

When she finally came up to the apartment I asked her what she did at the library. "Shhhhhh! I'll tell you after dinner." She was totally uncommunicative.

When mom did close up for the evening and came upstairs, she again tried to get Kim to talk. Kim was adamant. "I'll tell you later. Don't ask now. Please!"

Dinner was as fast and quiet as I have ever seen. We finished eating in ten minutes. "Can we do the dishes later?" Kim asked. Mom nodded. "Good, let's go down to the salon," Kim said.

Mom unlocked the back door to the salon, and turned on the lights. Andromeda followed the three of us into the salon. Kim went over to the receptionist's desk and turned on the salon's music system. Then she walked over to the hair dryers and turned everyone to its lowest setting. Next she went into the tanning rooms and turned on the beds, then went over to the styling chairs and turned on a couple of hand held hair dryers. She ushered us over to the large hair dryers and we sat down between a couple of them; three scared women and a black cat.

Mom and I just watched in amazement. What could Kim possibly be doing? "Can we talk yet?" mom asked in exasperation.

"Yes," said Kim as she kneeled on the floor between us. "Kristal came to the induction center today."

Mom perked up, "She was? That's great! Did everything go ok?"

"Yes mom, Kristal tore them apart. The commanding officer was a colonel and a real ass hole." Mom gave Kim a dirty look and Kim apologized. "Sorry, but he was. Kristal tore him apart." Kim told us the whole story. It was great to hear that a jerk like Colonel Noleff got dressed down by a United States Senator. Then Kim told us about her discussion in the parking lot with Kristal.

"Mom, she said you knew about this. Did she tell you?"

"Jennifer told me a little bit about this a while ago. Why?"

"Why? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Dear, I didn't want to worry the two of you."

"Well mom, you should have. Kristal said that I was probably one of their prime targets. I'm pushing technology far beyond anything that anyone has ever seen before. You can bet that Kristal is right. I am sure they want to know everything that I'm doing." Kim looked at me, "I'm glad that I listened to Andromeda and decided to hold back."

I shook my head in the affirmative, "Your intuition was right." I thought she deserved more credit than the cat.

"What are you holding back?" asked mom.

"Stuff, mom. Really strange, theoretical stuff. Things that have the potential to absolutely shake up the world. Up until now it has been strictly theoretical equations on a piece of paper. But I have gone as far as I need to in modeling. I can build some of this stuff. I know I can. I mean I don't know how exactly, but I don't think the existing technology can't reach where I want to go. I need to start studying engineering. I'm going to build this."

"STOP!" mom yelled. "Slow down. You're going way too fast and you are not making any sense. Take a breath and start over. Start with Kristal. What exactly did she tell you?"

"I already told you mom. The NSA and the government are spying on everyone. Big Brother is truly here. And I'm probably one of their prime targets. Kristal said that they can intercept everything electronic. That means they probably intercepted the e-mail announcement that Todd Reimer and his advisor sent to Professor Barnhardt. They killed Todd." Kim started to sniffle.

"What do you mean they killed someone? Who? Why are we hiding here in the salon? Kim, explain yourself!" Mom was getting anxious and frustrated, and it was starting to show.

"We're probably ok here, mom. That's why I went to the library this afternoon. That's why I wouldn't talk with you earlier. I researched how to defeat elementary bugging devices. They might be monitoring our apartment and the salon. I turned on everything with a motor to set up electromagnetic interference. I turned on the music to blanket the windows. They can't bounce a laser off the windows to interferometrically intercept our conversation. The AV is randomly dialing library numbers in Madison that have been discontinued. I think I've interfered with the most likely types of eavesdropping devices. We should be able to talk safely here. But when we leave here, we don't talk about this anymore. Is that clear?"

"Only if you explain yourself now!" mom said. "Who killed someone and are you in danger?"

"Mom, I don't know about me. Listen, a lot of this is guessing. I'm trying to put two and two together. Please let me explain. Maybe I'm seeing imaginary conspiracies, but Kristal really got me thinking today. And I believe everything she tells me. I really trust Kristal."

"So do we," I said. "You're stalling. Talk"

"Remember a couple of years ago, when I got all excited about this kid at Princeton who had invented teleportation? He claimed that he had teleported a buckminsterfullerene across a room. He and his advisor sent out e-mail notices to several prominent theoreticians and asked them to review his work. Remember?"

"Yes," we both said.

"Within a month he was dead. He was killed in what was called a 'suspicious' accident by the local authorities. I was looking that up when that lady at the library warned me away. She saved me from who knows what?"

"What?" asked mom. She had never heard this before and she wasn't sure she liked what Kim had just said.

"I'll explain that later, mom. But after that, I remembered what Professor Barnhardt had said. Three weeks after Todd was killed, his advisor sent out an e-mail to everyone they had contacted originally. He said that they had tried to duplicate the experiment and it couldn't be done. The original experiment had been contaminated. And Professor Barnhardt said, 'That's odd, considering they dismantled the equipment 2 weeks ago'. They were deliberately putting out disinformation. I'll bet he did succeed with the teleportation, and someone was trying to cover it up. Valerie, remember I told you way back then that I thought it could be done. My equations were right. This confirms my theories."

"I do remember. So what does all this mean?"

"It means that I'm damn lucky I didn't tell anyone the full details and implications of my theories. I still can't believe that no one else has figured out what I have."

"Kim, what have you figured out?" mom asked.

"Lot's of things, mom. And the problem is I don't know what the critical item is. Except for teleportation that is. Obviously someone wants to keep teleportation quiet."

"Why? What's the big deal?"

"All kinds of things, Val. You could teleport a bug into someone's car or house. You could teleport a rock in front of a car on a dark road and kill someone. You can do all kinds of nefarious things."

"What about teleporting people. Like going into space?" I asked.

"Teleporting people is way too complicated. I doubt that we will ever see that in our lifetime. But simple items can be done. I know it can."

"So who is killing people, Kim? Who is spying on us?"

"I think Kristal told us."

Mom's eyes got as large as saucers. "No. No, Kim. You don't think the government is after us? After you?"

"They're the most likely culprits."

"But why?"

"Weapons, mom. They want teleportation for a weapon, and they don't want anyone else working on it."

"But you're not working on teleportation, are you Kim?"

"Not overtly, but it could be interpreted from my work. If they're smart enough they will see it."

"Then you have to quit."

"No! Then they win. And also, they'll get suspicious. No, I have to keep going. But I'm smarter now. I know what to say and what not to say. I can do my work, keep my mouth shut, and get it done eventually."

"Kim, this isn't smart. The United States government has more resources and smarter people than you can possibly imagine. This is crazy."

"Mom, you're only half right. They have better equipment and resources. They are not smarter."

Mom sighed. "Of course they aren't smarter about physics and math. But what do you know about spying and intelligence gathering?"

"Not much, but I will."

Mom was tired. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Look Kim, contrary to common belief, not all mothers are stupid. I admit that I've run my salon and played the feminine stereotype game for a long time. And I am going to tell you both right now, I have enjoyed every minute of it. I loved being Cynthia's wife and your mother, and I will never regret a second of it. But now, I am going to change things. I will help you, but you have to be honest with me."

"Thanks mom."

"What have you discovered?"

"Everything. There may be no limit to what I, we can do. Anti-gravity, teleportation between planets, sliding between different dimensions and alternate universes. Maybe. I might be able to build a black hole in our backyard. I might be able to beat gravitational tidal effects from a black hole. Worm holes. White matter and dark matter. Anti-matter. I might be able to pass through solid matter. Mom, it's a world of magic. There may be absolutely no limit to what we can do. That should scare the hell out of a government that wants to control its citizens."

"You be careful. Remember, its not just you involved. It might be the future of the world. And if that's not important enough, you also have me, Valerie and grandma and grandpa who could become pawns in this. If the government is involved anything is possible. Do you understand? It is not just you."

That hit Kim hard. Up until now, I think she was seeing this as an adventure or game between her and some conspiracy. Now it just hit home. She thought about it for a few minutes. Andromeda crawled into her lap, and she absent-mindedly began to scratch Andromeda behind the ears.

"Yea, you're right. I was thinking pretty selfishly. The first thing we have to remember is that we can't talk about this again. Nothing in writing and nothing electronic. Nothing. We assume everything is bugged. We can talk outside on a walk. We can talk at the beach. I don't know. Let me do some research on all of this. We don't talk in here again. If they are monitoring us here, they'll only let us get away with this once. Do you think we can ask you-know-who for help?"

Mom thought for a minute. "Not yet. She is under watch also. Let me feel her out first. I'll see how far she wants to get involved. I'll do that. That can be my contribution."

What a weird day. We started with an attempt to keep Kim from being totally humiliated by an arrogant government bureaucracy, and ended up starting an undercover war against a government conspiracy.

Or maybe not.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Collected from the Department of Energy using the Freedom of Information Act

 

Kurtland responded to the buzzer on his desk, "Hazel, send him in." Mr. Brian Kaliber came through the door and shut it behind him. He walked over to Kurtland and extended his hand. "Good to see you Mr. Secretary. How's the wife?"

"Just like normal Brian, a pain in the ass. She wants a bigger house. Can you believe that? The kids move out and she wants more room. She 'deserves it' she said. She busted her hump for thirty years, and now she wants her mansion. What can you do?"

Kaliber just smiled and sat down opposite Kurtland. "Let me update you sir, I'm sure you're very busy. We've brought another five pups on board. We have had to go more international, so I have a new German, Italian, French, Spanish and Russian interpreter. That goes along with the two Chinese experts we brought in last quarter."

"What's up with the latest incident in France?" Kurtland asked.

"The French kid has been partially neutralized. Nothing got out of the country. The NSA did a hell of job, sir. I have to hand it to them, when you are smart enough to know what to ask for they can do it. They flounder when you ask them to decide who, what and where to go after, but you tell them specifics and they're like a steel trap. They don't miss."

"That's good to hear, Brian. I'll pass along the compliment. What happened in France?"

"We planted some disinformation and people now have some doubts. But the French stopped us from killing all of the communications. They're pursuing teleportation, Allen. If we can't stop them, we can't afford to be left behind. We might have to start our own program. I'm sure Starr is going to be lobbying heavy for it. He might have already started his research."

"Let's not let it come to that, understand?"

"Like I said, the NSA killed most of the electronic communications from the kid. But he is still working on it. We can't just take him out. They are going to know who was responsible. There will be repercussions and retribution."

"Why should we be worried? They won't come after us. They'll go straight after the CIA or DoD. We're innocent bystanders."

"Yes sir," Kaliber responded with a smile. He had his orders. The French teleportation expert was going to have an accident.

"Anything else, Brian?"

"Mr. secretary, I think we have most everything else covered."

"What about that girl at Wisconsin?"

She's going to Stanford next semester. Wants to study engineering and get a job as a TA; she wants a paying job. I think she is backing away from the theory end and going more practical. I don't think she will be a problem. If she does become a problem, she is at a university that we have covered better than any place in the world. I can't see her being a problem. Too bad, she looks like a potential hotty to me."

"I know what you mean. She makes the wife look awfully old and cold." They both laughed.

 

(continued)

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2005 by G L Hudson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.