Chapter 11

"Name one thing the government is good at. Just one, Dan. We can wait." Said Reagan wryly to which Dan Rather responded, "Keeping secrets." Ronald Reagan, 40th US President, 1983 Interview with Dan Rather

"When he spoke about the incident, it was my impression that Dr. Ovandir deeply wanted to change the events and insure the rescue of his teammates. However, I cannot say he would risk his work, access, or position to go through with such an attempt. I also believe he is intelligent enough to know that he could never trust anyone to conspire to join a rescue mission. To that end, I believe he has resigned himself to accept the circumstances as he processes his grief in our sessions." Dr. MacPiel reported.

"It would still be wise to keep an eye on Dr. Ovandir in the coming weeks and I'd recommend he be serve in an advisory role only until he has successfully processed his grief when and if possible." Dr. MacPiel advised.

Admiral Graves nodded in agreement "I fully agree. Merrek isn't scheduled for another away mission for another year or so. I assume he should be far enough along by then to return to full service."

"It's hard to tell, but a year can see plenty of progress. With that, I have my next appointment with him in a few days. Do you want to continue receiving reports?" The doctor inquired unnecessarily. On this base, everyone who received sessions with Dr. MacPiel was subject to reports to the base command, even the janitor.

The video call disconnected. The Admiral sat down with pen in hand and scibbled a few notes before closing mission log and stowing it in the false drawer bottom. He always preferred to keep sensitive information in a handwritten, paper journal. No way someone would hack into his mind or notebooks.

The admiral was a stickler for security. Therefore, he never took this notebook off base. Every time he returned to base, he would review the last entry. If it ever differed from his memory, he would immediately begin the protocol of figuring out what changed and who made the change.

No one knew about this journal.

Not a soul. Not the Janitor. Not Merrek.

Not even his wife.

Almost as if the thought of his wife triggered the alert, a quick chirp from his digital office tablet reminded him to get flowers before he got home. It was his anniversary. The admiral prided himself that he had never missed his anniversary nor forgotten to bring a bouquet of flowers.

Today would be no different.

* * *

The light rain misted the windshield as the Admiral gazed off at the sidewalk. Rain beaded on the glass and disappeared as the wipers squeaked. A single child perched on the bench dressed head to toe in bright yellow rain gear contrasted against an almost uniform mass of people in black suits and black umbrellas. The Admiral almost chuckled at the nearly postcard like scene.

The Admiral's driver opened the door of the large black sedan with a generous boquet of flowers. A few brief words and the Admiral's car was back en route to his home. The peaceful hiss of tires on wet pavement was one of his favorite sounds.

A single, quick thump on his wrist broke his reverie. A glance at the lone word that flashed across the face of his watch and he knew his driver would be delivering the flowers to his wife.

* * *

Terry sat in the pod with his sonic neutralizer in plain view. The light hum as he turned it on almost immediately disappated to silence. He didn't have to wait long until the screen lit up with an alert of an incoming call.

"So tell me, son. Did you see him? Did you actually see him?" the Admiral started without an of the formality or pleasantries.

"No sir." Terry said firmly. "No. But there is no way it isn't him."

"Okay?" the Admiral extended the word before a dramatic pause. "And?" with another pause.

Terry was massaging his temples as if to assuage an oncoming headache, "Y'see sir, I can't tell you why I know it's him except for a few alarming coincidences." he offered.

"There was a person I had met years ago... well, from the last mission." Terry explained. "For him, it was years ago. For us, it was hours ago."

The Admiral sat back in his leather chair. A similar sonic neutralizer was aglow built into the structure of his desk. "I trust your instincts... Tell me more."

"Well, this guy... this Ben fella..." Terry paused, "Well, he was at the perfect place at the perfect time. I was on my way back to the cave after doing an impromptu scouting mission to clear my head and get eyes on the surroundings."

"You weren't spotted, were you?" Admiral Graves ears seemed to perk up as his fingers automatically flicked to surface the chart of the missions historical linear flow projection. "The projection shows no anomolies nor divergences."

"I don't think I was seen. At least not during my scurrying through the woods. At least this Ben fella didn't indicate that he saw me or was looking for me when I spoke to him."

"What the hell, Terry! You spoke to him? Was that part of the mission?" The Admiral shoved his chair backwards standing in a fluid motion. "How in hell is this projection still so damned perfect?"

"That's what has me, too." Terry's expression seemed to sharpen, "With this current development, I was expecting a slight blip. I can only assume my statements to Ben did set his mind at ease and that he has not reported us to Merrek if that's who he's talking to."

"Well! Did he indicate he knew Merrek at all?" the Admiral drilled Terry with his eyes.

"That's the other thing. He did mention a name... And it sounded similar, but it was not Merrek. He said 'Mr. Mark.' Surely that can't be just a close coincidence. And, get this! He's paying Ben to keep a lookout in this very area."

"Well, I doubt Mark is an uncommon name in the southern United States during the early 1800's." The Admiral's expression lightened a touch.

"But you said, 'Mr. Mark,' right? Was it a first, or a last name?" Terry shrugged in response to the Admiral's question.

The admiral scratched his chin. Then more confidently, "Besides, there was lots of gold prospecting in the area you're in. I'll do some research to see if any prominent prospectors' names come up. Stay on task. No more unauthorized side missions."

"Yessir, Admiral!" Terry instinctively saluted.

As Terry reached up to end the transmission, the Admiral's gaze grew stern once again. "Terry." The pause was palpable. "You keep your eyes and ears open." and the admiral cut the transmission.

Terry's finger hovered above the disconnect contact for a few moments. He didn't know what to think. His timeline was still in tact.

No. It was pristine.

Still, he was concerned this Mr. Mark person, whoever he was, could be an antagonist to their future missions. He had to stay on high alert.

With renewed resolve, Terry stowed his communications equipment and straightened himself as if to attention. Noticing a green alert, Terry's eyes shifted to the pod door.

* * *

Chase and Madeline stood just outside the pod door.

"There you are!" Madeline quietly exclaimed. "The team is on their way back. Thought you'd like to know." Terry nodded in approval reaching for his cold cup of coffee just to the side of his seat.

"Just in time!" Terry raised his cup. "I need a refill to finish my mental reset." Terry tossed a genuine, casual smile towards his friends.

"Good to hear. Glad to see your edge has been smoothed away." Madeline retorted.

"Oh, my edge isn't gone. I just have a better idea how to use it. Thanks for the time to think." Terry cast a wink past Madeline to Chase as he made his way to the pod door. "I've got my head back on mission."

The door slid silently behind them and closed with a dull, quiet thump.

* * *

The cool enameled metal of the rolling dry erase board had grown warm to the temperature of Merrek's hand where it almost always rested when he was deep in thought. If this whiteboard could talk, it would spill the secrets of the cosmos. It had been a fixture in Merrek's office and moved with him to every office he had occupied from junior researcher all the way to his current position now on the agency base. It could regularly be seen in the background of a call or even in the few photos taken of Merrek and various other noteworthy nobodies with whom he exchanged pleasantries. One spot on the bottom left corner had a deep gouge in the enamel where it had been dropped years ago during one of the moves.

This is one of the first times Merrek had fully erased and cleaned the whiteboard in years. The professor felt as if he had placed his hand over a dear friend's advising mouth as if to gain clarity to think.

He just needed a moment.

"I know it can be done. I just need a place and a time close enough to the 1800's and I need to get myself to do it." Merrek's thoughts seemed to vibrate just behind his eyes.

Merrek was certain his office was tapped. It was the only sensible thing to do. Sure, he was the brains behind the operation – the only contributing and founding member of the science which gave a practical use for time travel. It was a government project with government funding and government oversight. He was without question under that oversight.

As a precaution, all of his phones, communicators, computers, and everything with a camera was pointed away from him. As an extra measure, he turned his white board towards the only blank wall in the office.

In a flurry of inspiration, the professor's hands began scribbling. To the casual observer, he was writing basic equations, jargon, & notes. Nothing important. Then he began scribbling arrows, boxes, and flow lines.

"If I start here," he silently mouthed the words as his marker landed on a point. "I could put my marker there..." his eyes scanned over to another point then another. "... and I'd recover it here. I'd send it back and no one would be the wiser."

In Merrek's understanding, this was like a pirate's treasure map. Filled with dead ends and booby traps, it still had a pathway to a pot of gold for someone who could read the key. He stepped back from his masterpiece like Leonardo looking at the finished Mona Lisa.

He had the key to this secret map. But he couldn't erase it. He knew it would have to be found, reviewed, and discarded by almost everyone on base for his plan to work.

"The key must be kept safe and delivered safely. But how?" Merrek's eyes grew slowly brighter. In a moment, he dashed out the door almost forgetting his rain jacket. The door dashed back open as he grabbed his jacket off the coat rack and slamming the door behind him key in hand.

Off to the pod repair and maintenance facility with ID prepped to swipe in to inspect the pods before their upcoming missions.

* * *

"You're late, as usual." Admiral Graves raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion of his dear friend. "I'd court marshal my subordinates if they were as tardy as frequently as you, Merrek!"

"It's a good thing we're old friends more than colleagues." the professor smiled broadly as he grasped the Admiral's hand firmly, "How's EJ?"

"Oh, you know. Same ol' same ol'. She's complaining I work too hard and too late too often." The Admiral grimaced, "And she's right. My only saving grace is our immovable Friday date nights that have been a fixture in our marriage since I was able to command my own schedule... and before so long as I wasn't caught AWOL!" The Admiral chuckled.

The inspections were standard and performed routinely by a set group of workers. Merrek always oversaw the process and frequently the Admiral popped in for a few minutes to give the team and equipment a once over. He knew there wasn't a thing he could offer more than barking orders which would serve no one.

"How many missions have these things been on now? We're approaching 300 right?" The admiral inquired rhetorically. He knew the answer.

"A few more, and we're there." Merrek paused. "We should do something special for number 300. Whatcha think? Maybe you and I go out once and see something historical together!" The professor knew the answer to that question also... Hell, he wrote the answer!

"If only!" The admiral said in satisfaction. "I'm one of the few people on this base that is forbidden to ride in one of these things..." he scratched his chin pondering, "Still... I would like to see some of the history I really remember!"

The conversation began to get punctuated by interruptions from the team. These were engineers. Scientists. Nerds. People who had the rare ability to speak just above the Admiral's education and patience. As usual, after some cursory small talk with Merrek and a peek around a few corners to appear observant, the Admiral rapidly ran out of input to offer and his silence became uncomfortable for everyone. In an almost scheduled resignation of defeat, the Admiral bowed out and headed back to his office.

Merrek walked the Admiral to the hangar bay doors as the Admiral made his way back to the elevator. The Admiral's hand reached to stop the elevator doors, "Merrek, It's good to see you back with your gears engaged. I'm looking forward to seeing you resume work in the field. Your next away mission is crucial to our next major inflexion." The Admiral let that last sentence hang for just a moment. "We're going to really save some lives, here! It's going to be worth our sacrifice."

Merrek's eyes met his friend's gaze with a shared solidarity. "Yes. A good that is truly worth what we are paying." Merrek patted his friend's shoulder and ushered him off, "Now get out. I've got work to do... See you tonight for dinner, Right? I won't be late!" The professor swore placing his hand on his heart.

The admiral rolled his eyes and let the door go. "See you tonight, Mer." and the elevator doors thumped closed.