Winds of Time


Except for the sound of Tarl Cray’s heels on the concrete floor, the corridor is devoid of life. Only the occasional gray steel door breaks the monotonous sterile white walls. One of them is his destination. Bright lights overhead illuminate the corridor to the point where he has to squint slightly until his eyes adjust. Smells of antiseptics thicken the air to the point of choking off the oxygen. His impatience to conclude the journey make the walk seem twice as long. Briefed at length about the mission he volunteered for, Tarl thought about the drugs introduced into his body over the last several weeks along with their inevitable result. The thought of being able to change his physical appearance at a moment’s notice attacks his psyche with both fascination and apprehension.
A door, number 223, comes into view on the left side of the hall. A rectangular opening in the wall adjacent to the door housed a small white screen. Laying his hand on it palm down, he watches a thin line of blue-white light slowly pass beneath his palm. Because of the massive ultra sophisticated computer located in another room of the complex the transition between placing his palm on the screen and confirmation of his identity was instantaneous. The door slides open with a nearly imperceptible sound. Tarl enters a room as sterile as the corridor. The cool fresh air in the room is a relief and he takes a deep breath. In front of him is a long brown conference table where three men in white lab coats sit. A fourth man at the head of the table wears a tailored brown business suit. Standing, he smiles, and extends a hand in welcome. The other three stand as well.
“Welcome back, Tarl,” the man says with an enthusiastic tone.
Tarl steps forward to the table and shakes his hand, "Thank you sir.”
Tarl greets the others in the same cordial manner, but he already knows them extensively, all geniuses in their respective field of studies.
The first, Dr. Ruer, a pioneer in the effect of artificial toxins in the human body was the first to find a cure for cancer. However, his monumental discovery had disastrous overtones. The break-up of the nation twenty-five years before allowed him to do his research unhindered. Governmental agencies set up to protect the populace disappeared allowing skeptical practices to escalate. Several thousand people were seriously sickened during experiments, adding to their misery. For an unfortunate or fortunate few, death was the only outlet. Although, throughout his experiments he somehow retained his ethics toward people, it was not surprising that he met any gratitude with indifference.
The second, Dr. Schillar, a Professor of Anatomical research created the ultimate prosthetic. It was also common knowledge in the complex about the motives of his pursuit. Schillar lost both of his arms when his office collapsed around him during an earthquake while visiting the west on a fact-finding mission. The man worked for years afterward using only his mind and his assistant’s hands to assemble his dream. What he and his assistants succeeded in creating was more than just metal framework, cables, and plastic. Schillar discovered a method of regenerating human flesh and bone. Moreover, he was able to coax it into the proper parameters for replacing not only his crushed limbs but other vital organs as well, mostly for the upper class of society.
The third gentleman, Dr. Matis, an expert in cardiology and like the others; his claim to fame centered around the first fully functional artificial heart. In fact, Tarl knew the Matis' heart would go on beating even after the remainder of the body had ceased to live. This had great advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, it extended life and its quality. The reverse was it would not cease. Brain dead people or those with bodies rendered useless had to endure the pain of living for a very long time. Due to a childhood accident, Tarl had one of the hearts beating in his chest.
The man in the suit at the head of the table is Jonathan Fitzhugh, a late middle-aged man with thick graying hair and rough hands. His suit fit him well covering a moderately large frame and causing it to stretch when he reached out his hand. Taller than Tarl by about three inches he looked down slightly over a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His voice was deep a bore the tone of command. Fitzhugh trained Tarl and given the project by the council.

Tarl greeted each man with a handshake and smile before sitting in the chair opposite the three. Mr. Fitzhugh brought them together to give them a final briefing on the project. He begins by saying, "Thank you for coming gentlemen,” he continued to talk without pause, “It is time to tell you why your talents have been needed. Our nation is about to be invaded.”
The attentive look on each doctor’s face as well as Tarl’s abruptly changed to shock. Never before in the history of the country had a foreign aggressor violated its shores.
“I can see by the look on your faces that you are a bit surprised. Well, I can assure you when I first read the report from our over seas agent I was just as shocked. It seems one of our rival governments has decided to take advantage of our countries breakup.”
Dr. Matis asks quickly, “Why? What's the reason?”
Fitzhugh answers him directly, “Same reason as a lot of invasions down through history. Power. Greed. Survival.”
“Survival!” Doctor Ruer interjects, “Exactly what kind of survival are we talking about Mr. Fitzhugh?”
“Survival of their government or their way of life.”
“Our agent says that it is most definitely the later.”
Fitzhugh tells him, “The four year drought and famine in that part of the world coupled with its bad relations with its neighbors has sent it down a road of desperation. It chose the most vulnerable in its line of vision. And since it is a world power it has focused on us.”
“Why just us?” An agitated Matis blurts out, “Why not those neighboring countries you spoke of?"
Fitzhugh answers him quietly trying to calm the doctor, “Probably because if the neighbors knew our new enemy conquered us they would suddenly become friendly which in turn would strengthen our enemies’ position in the world order.”
The doctor sat back in his seat with a worried look on his face. He now realized that this new aggressor has nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Fitzhugh continued his briefing, “Chiefly, they are after our vast resources in agriculture which would alone give them immense power, which it did for us at one point in time.”
“I also need to remind you of what has happened to the nations military after our demise. Our region has less than a quarter of our nation’s original fighting force. Which against the forces our enemies have amassed will last about as long as it takes them to open fire.”
“They are coming from the east aren't they sir,” Tarl asks.
“Yes Tarl, I'm afraid they are,” Fitzhugh replies.
Fitzhugh's briefing told them why and where they are coming from, now the only question is when.
Without a heartbeat in between questions Tarl asks, "How long before they attack?”
“Our agent suspects from the build up in forces at their air and naval bases, possibly two weeks.”
“Two weeks!” Tarl shouts. “And just what is my mission!”
With the calmness of a well-schooled diplomat, Fitzhugh answers Tarl, “Simple, reorganize the other sectors by replacing their leaders or convince them the threat is genuine.”
Raising his voice to almost a shout Tarl sarcastically says, "Oh is that all! And just how am I supposed to do that? You know that a couple of those regions have turned into hell on Earth! The Far Western section is probably the worst with its totalitarian government. I've seen reports of people whipped into herds like animals in communal settlements, kept alive only to service the upper class. The northern and central regions are relatively calm except for some sporadic pockets that flair up now and then, but they are mostly in the outer fringes, away from the central government.”
Fitzhugh takes a deep breath and with the tonal drone of a cold professional he says, “You are to infiltrate the command structure of each region and with the use of your new talent and judgment either convince or dispose of the ruler and assume the position. If you have to replace the ruler you will inform your peoples of the impending invasion.”
Tarl was dumbfounded upon learning of his mission.
“You expect me to do all that in two weeks?”
“No not exactly,” Fitzhugh tells him, “you probably have a little more time than you think. The region to our north is relatively peaceful, largely due to the low population. You will concentrate your efforts there first. If you can get them to help that will give you time to work on the worse areas.”
“One thing,” Tarl says, "how can I leave the leadership without it reverting back to the way it was?”
Fitzhugh answers him in a straightforward manner,
“You haven't been informed of this for reasons which will be obvious when I tell you. The most violent and the more strict provinces have deputy commanders. They are your colleagues among others. We sent them in four months ago when we first learned of our enemies' intentions. Since then, they have completed their objectives exactly as you must. In addition, through subversion, they have gained the confidence of the populace.”
Tarl interjects quickly,” Well, why can't they assume leadership?”
“Their initial mission was to learn all they could about the deputy commander, eliminate him, and then assume his position. If they just tried to move in they would be recognized and killed instantly by the security forces.”
Tarl sat back in his chair and smiled, “Okay you've given me all the information I need. It won't be easy but I’ll take care of it.”
Fitzhugh finishes the initial briefing saying, “I must reiterate the importance of using the people against the leader in the bad province. Our men report it will take only the slightest nudge to turn them against their ruler, at least in the more violent sector.” Fitzhugh's last orders calm Tarl. However, the prospect of infiltrating the worst dominion on the planet did not fill him with confidence. Tarl ran his fingers through his hair and scratched his head, thinking. A wave of skepticism swept through his mind. He knew his skill, as an agent was good but this good.
Fitzhugh spoke, “Tarl I can see that you're a little troubled with this assignment, why don't you try out your special ability. I know you've used it in the testing program but I would like to see it out of the controlled conditions of the lab.”
Tarl thought to himself for second. Why not? He liked the feeling of being invisible walking into a crowded room. In addition, once in the form of another person he could even sound like him.
Rising out of his seat, Tarl walked to the far end of the table and stood. The doctors and Fitzhugh watched as he closed his eyes and relaxed his body.
Breaking Tarl’s concentration Dr. Ruer spoke up. “Hold it a second.” Looking at Fitzhugh he said, “I think we should give his new abilities the ultimate test.”
“Good point.” Fitzhugh reaches down and touches a button on the intercom next to his arm on the table. A soft feminine voice emanates from it, “Yes Mr. Fitzhugh?”
“Kareen will you please come in here, I need your opinion on something.”
“Yes sir. I'll be right in.”
“Now Mr. Cray, see if you can fool her.”
Tarl looked at Fitzhugh and smiled.
Again, he calms himself and concentrates.
The door slides open and, Kareen Loi, a woman in her mid-twenties steps into the room. She has a sweet lovely face with a petite and very shapely figure.
“Yes Mr. Fitzhu . . .” her voice trails off when she sees the man at the end of the table. A smile blossoms on her face turning it into a vision of magnificent splendor.
“Roger!”
Kareen sprints to Tarl her feet barely touching the ground long enough to push her onward. Jumping into his arms, she forces her lips onto his kissing him passionately. Fitzhugh and the doctor’s smile both for Tarl’s success in the transformation and the kiss he is receiving. Tarl tries to return the compliment as best he can but Kareen begins to notice something. It is not Roger. She stops suddenly and looks into Tarl’s eyes. They are brown instead of blue. Instantly she releases him and drops to the floor. She stares intently at the man she thought was her fiancée', “Roger is that you?” She says uneasily staring intensely into his eyes.
“No Kareen, it’s Tarl,” Fitzhugh informs her.
“Tarl?” Kareen says demonstratively.
She stares at Tarl with unbelieving eyes. He smiles with the sort of grin that has a tinge of mischief in it. Before Dr. Ruer can stop her Kareen lunges forward. Tarl tries to cover up but he's not quite quick enough. Kareen’s fist meets his body just below the breastbone. Tarl’s brown eyes widen to their extreme limit before closing. He doubles over due to the stunning effect of the hit, almost kneeling to the floor before regaining his strength. Still holding his mid-section, he looks up at her in amazement. How can a girl so petite hit so hard?
“Kareen!” Fitzhugh says loudly, “Kareen calm down please.” The two doctors holding her remove their grip as she calms. She breathes hard from the anger within her. Fire still burned in her eyes. Only after she hears Fitzhugh telling her to calm down does it diminish? Tarl hastily retreated into his former self. Kareen’s turns quickly to face her boss with an angry stare. Without hesitation, he holds up his hand to stifle her next comment. He stands in a gesture of respect for her, “I'm sorry I tested you in this way Kareen, but we had to make sure Tarl’s abilities were absolute. Please forgive me.”
Looking at Tarl again, who is still trying to recover, she begins to understand his reasoning. Straightening her clothes Kareen quickly inhales and lets the air slowly escape to relax her then brushes off some imaginary lint for a distraction. She looks at Fitzhugh. Holding one hand in the other, she lays them across her lap and says in a subdued voice, “Yes sir.”
“You may go now and thank you.”
She turns to leave. As she does, Tarl voices his astonishment,
“How can a woman so little pack that kind of a punch?”
Upon that comment, Kareen turns as she walks toward the door and smiles at him as if to say, “That'll teach ya.”
Evidently, the punch gave Tarl a bit of amnesia. As soon as it cleared, he would have remembered that Fitzhugh trained Kareen in martial arts. And knowing his pension for excellence it stands to reason she would be the best.
“Well now that we know you have an exceptional ability we will continue.”
Tarl sits in his chair, still trying to shake the effects of the hit, as do the doctors. Not one for procrastinating Fitzhugh proceeds with the briefing, "Next, your transportation.” Interest peaked Tarl raises his eyebrows. In order to move from place to place in the time allotted he will need something that is fast.
“You will be using a new prototype the men and women in the tech lab have just finished.”
“How fast is it?” Tarl asks.
“I have the specifications here on the table.” Fitzhugh pulls a sheet of paper from under the others in front of him and hands it to Dr. Ruer who gives it to Tarl. Having read it previously, he continues, “Top speed is five hundred miles an hour.”
“What's going to protect me from the observation screens of the warring sectors?”
“If you'll read further you will see that it has an exceptional stealth capability.” Tarl reads while his boss talks.
“It is invisible when in operation. The propulsion system is a secret even to me but I am told it is utterly silent and cool.”
“Cool?” Tarl glances up and says inquisitively.
“Yes, which means to say there is no hot exhaust for a missile to lock on in the unlikely event of detection and that can't happen unless you, for some inexplicable reason, forget to turn the stealth device on. However since it is undetectable there was no need for offensive or defensive weapons. It was designed specifically for concealment.”
Fitzhugh adds a little emphasis onto his next remark to Tarl,
“Once you have begun your mission with the help of this Tedis and your transmutation ability Mr. Cray, you will be invisible.”
Tarl looks up from his reading to look at Fitzhugh. Amazement shines from his face, amazement, and confidence.


Chapter Two


Fitzhugh, a man of deep thoughts and grandiose ambitions sat alone in his office after the meeting with his top agent. Three years of meticulous planning went into his scheme. The assembling of the doctors, the advance agents sent into the sectors, the corrupting of subordinates, all had gone according to schedule. Now the ultimate test was at hand. Cray’s mission would tell him if his takeover of the sectors would succeed. Absentmindedly he twirled an A.I.M. pen in his fingers. A writing tool used to write on the screen of his Artificial Intelligence Machine. He thought of all the variables in his plan. Fitzhugh wondered if his operatives in the Northeast and Mid-west would hold to their bargains of backing him as president of the newly formed government. Or if his association with the King Palei in the west would hold. He had promised the king he could rule directly beneath his presidency. He would deal with the Palei’s brutal attitudes later. A reoccurring thought entered his head, the reason he wanted to rule. Anger caused him to put pressure on the pen between his fingers. The encasing plastic cracked under his strength. He would rule as his father had. Use an iron fist behind a veil of compassion. Use power to create a legacy and build a nation to greatness. His father had tried before the nation disintegrated but the last president executed him for his efforts. Fallon then erased all of his contributions from history. Fitzhugh would restore his father’s dreams and once again make the nation great.

Tarl walked to the tech hanger at the far end of the complex. Informed and supplied for the mission he could now focus on his objectives. The first of the sectors is one of two that were relatively peaceful. He should have no problems there. Transmutation may not be needed. It is the last sector where he must be careful. Mr. Fitzhugh said his operatives were in place in the command structure. He must make contact with them without delay.

Since his arrival, the complex had become alive with activity. Technicians, scientists, and general lab personnel stroll or walk quickly past him. It took Tarl several minutes and turns into different corridors to reach the hanger. Its white double doors swing freely as people entered and exited. He wastes no time in pushing open the door.
The hanger is huge, large enough to house an old style stadium within its confines. Corrugated steel sheaths the walls. An intricate structure of steel beams over head keeps the earth from burying the occupants. Experimental Tedis’ dot the hanger floor; however, he is here for one in particular. Standing just inside the entrance he scans the interior looking for his objective. A booming voice speaks from his right, “Hey you!”
Tarl turns to see a man in navy blue overalls, white shirt and tie with a hard hat in his hand.
“Put this on.” Tossing it to Tarl, he walks away. Tarl catches it but tucks it under his arm instead of wearing it. Scanning the interior his eyes settle on four or five lab jacketed gentlemen in the far right corner. They are standing next to a Tedis that could be his to use. Tarl makes strong strides almost trotting to the corner. Maneuvering around the tail of a strange looking airplane the Tedis comes into full view. It is metallic, almost silvery in color. A small canopy encompasses the front third the remainder is metal. There are no engines visible, but there are tail fins for stability in flight.
One of the men speaks, “Tarl Cray?”
“Yes,” Tarl affirms.
“My name is John.”
“Just John?” Tarl asks as he shakes his extended hand.
“For now that's all you need to know,” he answers with a smile.
“Yes sir!” Tarl says with a smile of anticipation. “What's this?”
“This is our latest creation. It has no name but its official designation prototype A51.” John goes on to introduce the three men who were standing next to the Tedis.
“This is Bob, Jim, and Pete.”
The men smile at Tarl in acknowledgment of his presence. To which Tarl returns the compliment. John moves to the point quickly. He presses a small panel that is only an outline in the skin of the Tedis, next to the canopy. A section just large enough for a person to crawl through slides upward. John invites Tarl, “Step in.”
Tarl steps through the opening and into the Tedis. It is small, just enough room for two seats and the control panel in front of them. Tarl sits in the seat farthest from the door. John climbs in and sits in the vacant chair and begins the explanation of the controls, “Now if you'll notice these controls are set up to make this Tedis as simple to operate as an old fashioned car.” Reaching up John pushes a button that closes the door. It slides shut silently. He then motions the men in the hanger to back away.
“First thing to do is establish a voice activation print.,” he tells Tarl, “Now when I push this button I want you to state your name, clearly.”
John reaches up and touches a white button on the top of the panel. Tarl complies, “My name is Tarl Cray.”
“Good you are now the only one who can turn this Tedis on. Since no one is capable of copying your voice inflections no one can steal the Tedis if you happen to leave it in the open.”
Tarl gives John a smirk. Pointing to a blue button on the lower right quarter of the control panel, “Now push this button.” Tarl complies. A soft hum fills the cabin. He looks around to find the source. John says clearly, “You won't find it. And if you must know where it's coming from it's behind us. Also turning the power off does not mean the ship drops from the sky. The computer senses the ships altitude and adjusts the fall rate accordingly.”
Tarl turns his head to look behind him. There is a blank wall with no obvious entry. Not wanting to answer any questions on it John persists in his explanations, “Now if you will notice all seems to be normal inside. Correct?”
Tarl doesn't answer the man instead he watches intently.
"Now watch exactly what I do,” John pushes a small sliding button upward. Instantly the outside world through the canopy becomes blurry. It stays that way for several seconds before becoming clear again.
John announces confidently, “We are now invisible.”
“It's that simple?” Tarl asks in astonishment.
“That simple,” is the reply. “All of the controls are connected into a prototype computer behind the wall. It handles all of your commands without the slightest hesitation.”
Utterly amazed at its simplicity, due mostly to the ultra-sophisticated planes he flew earlier in his life, Tarl prompted John on how it flew.
“That is just as simple.” He pointed to a large square panel with numbered buttons, one through zero. “Using this panel you simply punch in a series of coordinates we will provide you with. The computer will then guide the ship effortlessly to its destination. Or if you prefer,” he pushed another button and a joystick protruded from the center of the panel. Tarl’s curious nature asks one too many questions.
“What makes it fly?”
“It operates exactly like an aircraft with one obvious change.”
“What's that?” Tarl inquires.
“It operates on the principal magnetic repulsion.” Tarl raises an eyebrow in disbelief, “You mean it repels the earth's natural gravity and lifts the machine.”
“Correct.”
“How do you steer it?”
Johns response is short terse and too the point, “Push the stick forward. That makes it go that direction.”
Tarl, taken aback by John’s sarcastic attitude quickly realized he asked one too many questions. He was there to learn how to operate it. Not ask questions on its construction.
“Now as we go around the control panel all buttons are clearly marked for their function. You see here exterior and interior lights.”
“Exterior!” Tarl exclaims.
John says sarcastically, “For when you are searching for something or someone when the invisibility is not needed. After all if you are spotted you can just turn it on and disappear!”
Tarl stifles his reply and listens to John as he proceeds through the remainder of buttons. Navigational input. Longitude here. Latitude there. Auto pilot. John tells him all he need do is punch in the coordinates of his destination push autopilot and the ship responds accordingly. Outside audio system, here. All others are merely status lights. Non functional.
He ends his briefing, “Of course you don't know what makes it work so these will show you if something is incorrect in the computer.”
“And if there is?” Queries Tarl.
“You're out of luck. The computer scrambles and the machine will become visible as will your mission. Oh it will bring you home all right but it can be shot down in the process. The propulsion system is infallible the invisibility screen is not.”
Tarl is amazed at the technology developed behind closed doors.
“Now lastly and most important of all, you are probably wondering how you are going to complete your mission in the time allotted.”
Tarl answers accordingly, “How'd you guess?”
Releasing some of his intellectual hostility toward those below him John says, “I can tell by your attention span.”
Tarl is about to retaliate when his antagonist starts his lecture, “By using this panel you can set your speed at whatever you deem appropriate.”
“How?” Tarl asks.
“Push the slide button up of down to increase or decrease speed. Be careful when adjusting it. The slide button is hypersensitive. If you push too hard, you will have to wait to overcome the effects of the kinetic energy on your body. In other words, you will to wait until you can adjust to the acceleration. Conversely if you pull down too fast you’ll have to crawl down off the panel that is if you haven't gone through the glass.”
Tarl learned not to question how the ship’s assembly, partly because he didn't want to knock its creator’s teeth out. Now sure, that he had Tarl under his control John finishes his lecture, “I have been told by Mr. Fitzhugh you have one hour to familiarize yourself with the Tedis. You're mission begins at the end of the hour.”
After turning the Tedis off John shows Tarl one last button, the exit, and shakes his hand, says good luck, and abruptly leaves. Tarl is both amazed by the technology behind this thing and astounded over the short amount of time he has to learn. He knew Fitzhugh though. He wouldn't press Tarl if it weren't serious. Not being one for procrastination, he set to his task.
First, close the door. The door bubble shuts silently. Confidently he says his name aloud, “Tarl Cray.” Immediately the control board lights up. Wasting no time, he reaches up and pushes the power button. The distinctive hum fills the cabin. Next, push the invisibility button all the way up. The men standing in front of the Tedis become blurry then settle down.
“Well I guess I got it right so far,” Tarl comments to himself.
Next is the joystick. It pops out on Que. “Well here goes nothing.” He notices that the people around the Tedis have moved out of sight. Carefully easing his hand around the stick Tarl gently pulls it back. The wall the Tedis is facing moves downward as he rises. Smiling at his success Tarl becomes a little bolder. He pulls back a little harder. The result is a sinking feeling in his head. The sensitive joystick sends the Tedis hurtling to the roof. His military training in airplanes helps him instinctively to let go easing it into a hovering mode. Recovering he looks out through the canopy. He is hovering about fifty feet off the hanger floor. To his amazement, the people are still looking straight ahead as if they were looking at the Tedis. He smiles at his newfound power.
“Now let's try a few small maneuvers.” Tarl gingerly pushes the stick to the left. The outside world turns to the right as the Tedis pivots. Returning it to the original position stops the turn.
“Now forward.” Ready for the sensation of forward movement Tarl over compensates. Leaning forward, he pushes the stick a little farther than he wants to. The Tedis shoots to the far wall. He pulls back which causes it to slow dramatically but not fast enough. The ship bangs into the corrugated steel with a loud clang. The jolt sends him over the panel and against the canopy. Releasing the stick puts the ship into a hover mode again. The people on the ground, who had been talking amongst themselves rush to the sound of the noise, John cursing all the way. They examine the floor of the hanger for signs of the ship. Not finding any, they breathe a sigh of relief.
With his hands resting on his hips in a manner that exhibits his anger, John curses loudly toward the ceiling. After peeling himself off the canopy, Tarl learned his final lesson in the operation of the ship.
“Touchy little thing,” he says in awe. He touches the off button and the Tedis descends slowly, gently touching down on the hanger floor.
Exiting the ship was the wrong thing to do; John is on him in an instant, “Have a nice time up there did we?” He says he a tone as sarcastic as a person could be. “What the hell do you think you're doing? I give you the most complex machine on the planet and you slam it into a wall!”
“I seriously doubt that you are smart enough to use it!”
After that comment Tarl who had been walking away from John’s onslaught turns and starts back. He reaches John just as a powerful voice speaks, “How are things coming along Tarl?” The two combatants subdue their anger quickly. Fitzhugh was standing off to the side; he must have come in a side entrance.
“Fine sir,” Tarl says confidently. He stares contemptibly at John eyes before marching over to his boss.
Reaching to shake his boss' hands Tarl says, “Hello sir.”
“How do you like our new toy,” Fitzhugh says with a big smile.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.01.2009

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