Apocalypse Asteroid

Preface

2012-07-06T05:00:00.000-07:00

This is the first example of a new medium, the “blog-book,” “book-blog” or “blook,” however that contraction of “blog” and “book” has been trademarked so we cannot use it. The original “blook” was a blog printed in book form. We have a very different concept.

Our “blog-book” can have the content of a book in blog form to take advantage of this technology:

   Blog-books can branch for use as teaching tools or in a fiction format have more than one outcome. This example is four stories in one with lines for (a) Single Female, (b) Married Female, (c) Single Male and (d) Married Male. Reader participation is fully facilitated. These books play like games.

If you wish to suspend reading simply note the page you are on and you can return to it by inputting a search key, i.e. "D3" for Day 3 or SF3 for Single Female day three, etc.

           As a teaching medium several choices at every step along the way insure success as every error is corrected without personal embarrassment or the hesitation that inspires. Incorrect choices are explained and the reader is given as many chances as he or she needs to get the correct answer. The system has infinite patience.

Controversial issues are easily handled in this format as no personalities are involved. Choices and arguments presented are easy to deal with free of personality.

In this example we present a sci-fi story of an asteroid striking Earth through the eyes of seven people. Your path through it depends on your sex and marital status and you can choose another if you wish. This is four books in one adapted to the audience. Reader involvement is greater than ever. There are many advantages.

This is a medium where carrying advertising appropriate to content is placed by “spiders,” computer programs continually searching participating blog content for good places for contracted ads.

The medium can also support product placement. The characters don’t drink wine, they use particular labels. They drive branded cars, and so through all the products used. Even location placements can be sold. Where the text can be edited branding can change so many kinds of contractual arrangements are possible based on numbers of page views and how they rise and fall. This is the future of book publishing.

You are encouraged to comment along the way and send author communications to: adrianvance7@gmail.com

Begin Story

Day 1

2012-06-10T17:36:00.000-07:00

Saturday, April 7, 2029, Washington, DC, The White House

President Gonzales called a Saturday morning Cabinet meeting. Secret Service men and armed Marines in uniform were everywhere, surrounding the White House, in the halls, anterooms, bathrooms and in the Cabinet Room all grim faced. Every door has an armed two man detail.

Cabinet Men and women in suits are chatting around the great table. All forcing smiles They are tense. What is so important for a Saturday meeting with all this security?

The President sweeps into the room, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll get right to it,” says he.

“The asteroid Apophis will strike Earth at noon our time in exactly six days.”

“Friday the 13^th!” interrupts one of the men. The President continues.

“It will hit on a line running from San Francisco to Bogota, Columbia with the highest likelihood east of Mexico City. There is nothing we can do. This is the end of the world. Everyone will be killed, ultimately. The lucky ones will be under it.”

The room was silent. A few gasps were heard, women started crying, men were red-faced, some ashen. Suddenly, the Secretary of Environment stands up, “We have to tell the world! The people must know! What will happen to the trees?” He breaks down crying.

President Gonzales pulls a 10 mm Glock from his shoulder holster, takes careful aim and puts one bullet in the chest of the trembling man who drops to the floor as the women shriek. Secret Service men pull guns and guard the doors. No one seated moves a muscle.

The Secretary of Commerce, known for his sense of humor says, “Gee, I guess this isn’t April Fool’s after all.” No one laughs as Marines carry the body out.

“No, it is not April Fools,” says the President, “I wish it were.”

“Does anyone know about this?” asks Layton Panola, Secretary of Defense.

“The major world leaders and some scientists,” says the President.

“Sir,” one man put up his hand, “I heard on the radio that several astronomers were killed this morning.”

“By my order,” said President Gonzales and gasps are heard.

“Your order?” erupts Chief of Staff Daniels.

“Have you lost your mind, Jose?” yells Secretary of State Feldstein.

“Let me explain my decision. I want consensus, but…” and he does not finish the sentence instead reaching for a report.

“This was written for us in 2004 when it was first realized this asteroid constituted a threat and then updated in 2008,” he says as he opens the folder labeled “BLACK”. “The upshot is there are many factors affecting the path of these things even color, direction and rate of rotation. The first idea was that the orbit would expand, but now we re told it has contracted in a way that means it will collide. It has been under constant surveillance for years and this is confirmed. And, I can tell you now that it is ten times larger than we reported. That was our first secret regarding this rock.”

The room is dead silent. Nobody moves or asks a question. He continues: “This thing is several miles in diameter and coming at us at 28,000 miles per hour. Wherever it hits it will get the effect of 100,000 Hiroshima sized atomic bombs, maybe more.”

Gasps are heard and one of the women sobs. He continues:

“The Hiroshima bomb vaporized everything for three miles. This thing will do it for 180 to 200 miles. It will cause tidal waves several miles tall in both the Pacific and Atlantic. They will kill 80% of the world’s population within six hours. Everyone on the planet will hear the impact. For some it will be the last thing they hear as their eardrums will be blown. The shock wave will flatten everything for at least 1000 miles, probably more.”

“My God,” say several men who are visibly shaken.

“The explosion will probably ignite the atmosphere. All the oxygen will be burned to oxides of nitrogen which we cannot breathe so everyone will be dead within six hours. And, dust from the explosion will turn day into night for centuries freezing everything, even the seas. Earth will be an ice planet.”

The President paused and stood silent for a long minute. He looked stooped, but then pulled himself up and said:

“I have decided to do the only thing I can do is give the people six days of life rather than six days of terror. I have told all the world’s leaders that release of this information will be considered and act of war against all of us and will be responded to with thermonuclear annihilation. England and France have agreed and I expect Russia and China will soon. This is all top secret and release of it means death. Do not to tell your loved ones, but get your things together. We all have six days to live. OK, now tell me what you think.”

“I think you’re right!” said one of the men and other chimed in while the women sat stunned, tears running down their faces.

“What can we do for you, sir?” asked another man.

“Just hang tight and be with your families. I see no reason for any more Cabinet meetings unless this story breaks, somehow. Then, we’ll have to swing into full coverup,” and he pauses to look around the room.

“World riots will break out if it gets out,” said the President, “all of you must understand that any word of this will cause massive rioting with millions of deaths. All we can do is give the people the peace of ignorance. They must not know.”

“Do you mean to say we cannot tell anyone?”

“Or be shot.”

Gasps were heard around the table.

“You are to tell no one, not even your wives or husbands. You are to act as if nothing is happening, but you will want to gather your families, take a vacation, visit family or go to a place you’ve always wanted to see. That kind of thing. Most of us will be dead six days from today. The lucky ones that is…”

“The lucky ones?”

“Yes, those who survive the first blast will either die of asphyxiation, in riots or freeze to death over a few days or weeks. This thing is coming at us at 40 miles per second. It will pass through our atmosphere in 1/2 second and the shock wave will kill every living animal in a ten thousand mile radius. The dust from the collision will cover the Earth putting it in pitch black darkness for many years, killing all the green plants and freezing everything else. The lucky ones will have died in the first instant.”

“Rather than starve?”

“Exactly.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing,” said the President with emphasis, “absolutely nothing to alarm the people. We can talk about it, but I cannot change my mind. All the world leaders agree with me,” said an ashen-faced President.

“It is my job to protect the people as I can, give them all the days of peace and safety that I can. We have six. The way to do that is keep them ignorant.” There were murmurs.

“Make your plans, gather your loved ones, but tell them nothing. If you tell the press you will be shot. I’m sorry, that is the way it has to be. The only thing we can give the people is the bliss of ignorance.”

No one moved. After a few minutes the Surgeon General, Dr. Lydia Gotham rose from the table and said, “I have some ironing to do,” and everyone laughed as the Secret Service and uniformed Marines conducted her from the room.

Some moved close to the President who was sitting with hands folded like an obedient school child. Some consoled him, concurring with him. All expressed sympathy for his position and then they were gone.

Single female click here.

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Married male, click here

Single Female - SF1

2012-06-09T12:10:00.000-07:00

You go home stunned. That’s all you can call it. When you shut the door in your apartment you feel completely alone, more than you ever have in your life. You know the day you are going to die, but you don’t know quite how. Will the building fall on you? Will you be out walking and see the sky turn to flames, not be able to breathe? How will it happen? Virtually on “automatic” you call your mother, but are determined not to tell her.

Your mother answers in Illinois, “Mom?”

“Yes, is everything, OK?” she asks. You swallow hard, nearly breaking down, “Sure, Mom, I was just thinking of you and I thought maybe I would come for a visit. I’ve got a lot Travel Miles and…”

“Sure,” she says, “Are you sure everything is OK?” she asks and you know “You can’t fool Mom,” but you’ll give it your best shot.

“Yes mother, everything is OK. I just feel like I need a break from all this and where else would I want to be?” You have not lost your people skills; mom buys it.

Continue

Married Female - MF1

2012-06-08T12:36:00.000-07:00

You drive home in your Toyota Prius in a state of “stun.” That’s all you can call it. When you shut the door in your home you feel completely alone, more than you ever have in your life. You know the day you are going to die, but you don’t know how. Will the building fall on you? Will you be out walking with your husband and see the sky turn to flames, not be able to breathe? How will it happen?

You pour a glass of Pinot Grigio, sit down, kick off your Manolo Blahniks, wiggle your toes and try to think what you are going to say to your husband. Your mind is numb. You cannot keep a thought in your head. There is no reason to think of the future. Time stops, but then you hear him come into the drive in his Porsche Carrera.

“Hi honey!” he yells as he comes in the door, “How was the meeting? What was it all about?”

“Dear,” you begin, “Why don’t we go home and see our families for a week? I need a break and I’m sure you could use one too.” He looks at you like you are having a nervous breakdown. You think, “That’s it! Maybe it will work.”

Continue

Single Male - SM1

2012-06-07T12:44:00.000-07:00

You drive home in your Mercedes 500 fully on automatic. Your mind is numb and blank. If anyone asked you what you saw or heard on that trip you could honestly tell them, “Nothing.”

You arrive at your condo complex, wheel up to your garage door, click it up and roll in going into your condo garage entrance. Rarely do you feel alone as you have so much going on and to do, but on this day the emptiness of your home hits you like a “ton of bricks.” You regret you are not married, but then you’d have the burden of knowing and not being able to tell your wife.

You pour a small glass of Jack Daniels and sit down to sip it, then reach for the phone, dialing it without looking at the numbers.

“Dad? How are you? I’m OK. Dad, do you think it would be too early for us to go up to the cottage and do some fishing? I need a break.”

Continue.

Married Male - MM1

2012-06-06T16:06:00.000-07:00

You drive home in your Lexus like a robot. Nothing registers other than stopping, starting. Rolling with the traffic is automatic. You pull in your driveway, but leave the car out. You don’t feel like putting the car in. Maybe you’ll go out to dinner tonight…

“Hi honey,” you yell as you come in the door.

“I’m here,” you hear coming from the kitchen. You walk to her and put your arms around her saying, “I love you.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Dear, let’s sit down. We need to talk…”

Continue

Day 2

2012-05-10T17:34:00.000-07:00

“Bronco Billy” Daniels, White House Chief of Staff was an old hack Chicago politician who worked his way up to the top level and he had other ideas than dying under, “…some goddamn rock from outer space” he said as he drove home in his Cadillac Escalade. “Bronco” got stuck on him after he stupidly went for a ride on a bucking bronco while drunk at a Chicago rodeo while he was in high school. He lasted all of two seconds and was in the hospital for week, but no one accused him of “being chicken” after that.

Billy had virtually no education having gotten through high school by daring his teachers to teach him anything and then fumbling through a two year stint at Trade Tech learning to become a welder, getting a union card, becoming a shop steward, into Democratic party work and eventually the White House.

His mind was going a mile a minute as he drove home and he had one idea, “Get as far from that thing as we can to survive.”

He arrived home, puts the car in the garage and entered the house in the kitchen where his wife, Sylvia, was peeling vegetables.

“Honey?” he asked, “Where is that globe?”

“Globe?” she said, turning to him. “Scott has it in his room.” Bill said nothing more, went up the stairs and into his teenage son’s room to step over towels, books, crumpled papers and wrappers. He found the globe on the boy’s desk, grabbed it and went downstairs.

As he entered the dining room Sylvia came in from the kitchen with a quizzical look on her face.

“I’m glad Scott is not here as I have something to tell you that you are not going to believe and it is very upsetting, but I have a plan.” She knew her husband was a crafty man, with very little education and lots of “moxy,” “Bronco Billy” had gone very far with a short deck and here he was contemplating the world!

Sylvia took word of the end of the world with amazing aplomb.

“Exactly opposite where that thing is going to hit is south of India, like Malaysia, but not far from there is Perth, Australia, English speaking and it looks like there are mountains behind it. We do not want to be near the ocean. Start packing. Where is Scott?

“He’s where he always is; at Chrissies’ house.”

“Oh God, I forgot about her. OK I’ll go get him,” and Bill got up to leave.

Meanwhile, Layton Panola, Secretary of Defense was in his “Command Center” style office yelling into two telephones alternately.

“I don’t give a crap if it’s Saturday I want to talk to the top guy!” He was calling the Commander of Area 51 as they have a deep underground facility with living quarters and several years food stored in the event of an all-out war given all the cutting edge weapons work there. It was Layton’s plan to move his family there and “To Hell with the rest of them! We will survive!”

Layton had not been home yet and was dreading explaining this to his wife as she was the hysterical type, but he would “wing it.”

Dr. Filbert Fogstern, Ph.D. Secretary of Science was in his office making calls to the NOA Director in charge of the Antarctica Expedition he knew was sending a supply plane there on April 4, 2029. He intended to have his wife on that plane. The base was in the one place he felt would have the best chance of survival, but he was worried about money so he had placed a call to a friend at the New York Times, David Crookes, famous Presidential suck up who once said “I knew he would be a great President by the sharp crease in his pants.”

“David?” asked “Filly,” as his friends called him, “I’ve got the story of the century for you, but you’ve got to sit on until after the tenth and I want one million Dollars in gold for it. Believe me, it’s worth it.”

There was a pause as David told Filly he was nuts.

“I can give you proof on the morning of the tenth when you show me the satchel with 24 pounds of gold at a designated place.” Again a pause as Crookes spoke.

“OK, here it is in a nutshell: The President thinks the world is coming to an end on Friday the 13^th! Isn’t that a killer? I have proof and a tape of the Cabinet meeting in which he shot and killed one of the cabinet members. I’ll give it all to you as I am leaving the country. My ass will be butter after you break the story. I want out with money. When he goes I’ll never get another post like this; you know that. OK, get it together and I’ll tell you where to meet me on the early morning of the tenth, OK?” Layton put the phone down confident the deal had been made. All the papers and his digital recorder were in his thin briefcase. He patted it and prepared to go home and deal with Charlotte.

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Single Female - SF2

2012-05-09T16:22:00.000-07:00

You pack carefully, taking only what you need for six days. You clean the apartment as if you were going to return asking yourself, “What if they’re all wrong? Won’t that be a joke?” With that thought you will only toss the milk and green groceries from the refrigerator as you leave for the airport. You cannot imagine never seeing all your fine clothes and furnishings. “It’s crazy…” you tell yourself.

The ride to the airport is like a strange dream. Everything in slow motion. “Nobody knows!” Now you see the wisdom of the President. If he had told them they would be running around frantically, violently. “He really has given them six days of life,” you conclude, but you are glad to know.

Checking in and seating in the plane are like an “Outer Limits” episode. You are really in another place thinking of a large rock in space whizzing to Earth. You are not panicked, just numb. You can do nothing, but you will be home when it happens and that is really important to you.

Continue.

Married Female - MF2

2012-05-08T16:30:00.000-07:00

You’re in your husband’s Porsche filled with packed bags after leaving the dog at a kennel. Your husband thought your tears were a bit much saying goodbye to old “Scruffy” and you almost told him in defense, but thought better of it. The drive to Connecticut is gong to take ten hours and you may stop somewhere along the way depending on how you feel. Both your parents know you’re coming and “No schedule.” You continue to ponder telling him. You know at some point you will and maybe “…the sooner the better.”

“Why don’t we stop in that little park ahead,” you say as a state rest stop sign zips by. He pulls off into the park and stops near a picnic bench. He goes to the toilet and you sit at the bench to gather your thoughts. He returns.

“Honey, I have to tell you something and why we are doing this.” He looks at you quizzically and you tell him what happened in the White House. He says virtually nothing until you are finished. He is utterly quiet, but you wait.

“They could be wrong…” he says slowly.

“We can hope so. Now let me tell you what I want to do…”

Continue.

Single Male - SM2

2012-05-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

Shutting down your apartment is easy as you had almost nothing in the refrigerator, but beer. You pack only casual clothes, your sport jacket and Docker pants will do if you go out to a restaurant.

“One advantage of having to pack only for six days,” you note sardonically.

You drive to the airport, leave your car in the “Long Term” parking lot and do your best Arnold Schwartzenagger impersonation, “I’ll be back,” pick up two bags and trundle to the parking lot tram pickup spot.

The little bus is half empty taking you to the terminal. Everything is very orderly in the terminal and there you are struck with the difference you would see if these people knew they had six days to live.

“The President was right,” you concur.

Continue

Married Male - MM2

2012-05-06T19:22:00.000-07:00

You had no idea how she would take it, but your wife appears to be perfectly calm! You are amazed and embrace her. Then she breaks down sobbing, “Oh the children!”

“Thank God they’re at school.”

“What’ll we do?” she asks.

“I think we should pack up for a vacation and head north, get into Canada and get as far north and as high as we can by the 13^th.”

“When will we tell them?’

“The last possible moment.”

“What will we tell them now?”

“As little as possible.”

“Maybe when we cross into Canada?”

“OK,” you agree.

Continue.

Day 3

2012-04-10T17:32:00.000-07:00

D3 “I’m not going!” screamed young Scott.

“Chrissie?” asked his mother.

“Yes,” said the young man as Bill struggled not to tell him as he thought, “You don’t cross the President of the United States.”

“Are you in love?” asked Scott’s mother.

“Yes,” said the boy without hesitation.

“Then we have a problem,” said she to Bill.

“The boy’s too young to be in love,” resounded Bill.

“We were two years older than he is now, remember?”

“Two years is a long time,” wailed Bill knowing he had lost.

“We have to tell him.”

Meanwhile at the New York Times David Crookes comes out of the Chairman’s Office with a heavy satchel in hand. It contains 24 pounds of gold, in one ounce bars, $1 million. He is accompanied by two big, thug-looking men.

Filbert Fogstern, Ph.D. has packed everything he and his wife could stuff into their Ford SUV. Filbert has long been an environmentalist, Sierra Club member and had all the fancy camping gear one could buy for all the well publicized outings he could stage for “Save Our Planet,” meetings. Jill is a new York Jewish girl about as useful on a camping trip as a pair of patent leather pumps, but she has taken this very well having faith in Filbert. He told her they would come back to her closets after this was all over and that the trip is just a safety precaution. She thinks they are going to a resort in the Caribbean. In spite of being a Christian boy Filbert has learned how to be a good Jewish husband, “You lie to her, already,” he congratulates himself on the quickly concocted story.

When they arrive at the airbase he stops just outside the gate seeing David Crookes standing with two men, satchel in hand. Filbert passes him a Manila envelope and with a few words of assurance on both sides takes the satchel in hand shakes hands with David saying, “Not a word until Friday morning, OK?”

“Agreed,” says Crookes.

Filbert returns to the SUV.

“What is that?” asks Jill.

“Something very important to us, but forget it for now.”

“Isn’t that David Crookes?” Charlotte asks.

“Yes.”

“What did you give him?”

“Enough,” Filbert says firmly. It is the first time he has spoken to her in that tone and she is taken aback, but does not argue, “Filly is in charge,” and it reassures her.

They disappear into the facility.

Meanwhile, Layton Panola is in a small office with General Winston Droves, officially the Pentagon Director of Toilet Paper Purchasing, but in fact in charge of “black” projects.

“Look Winnie, don’t give me any shit I know you’ve got a massive underground facility in Area 51 because I paid for it, OK?”

“Well, I uh…”

“Now I want to take my family there as soon as possible, like in a few days and don’t ask me why because I cannot tell you,” and Layton settled into the slow stare for which he was famous. In a minute the General caved.

“OK,” he said, “have them all at the military terminal at Washington National tomorrow morning at 9 AM and we’ll take you there, but I really.”

“Don’t ask,” said Layton as he stood up to leave.

Back at the Daniels home Scott has been told the world is supposed to end and his firm answer is, “Then I want to be here with Chrissie when it happens.”

“Don’t you understand that we may be able to survive if we get to Perth, Australia?”

“That’s a maybe,” the young man responds.

“He’s right,” says Sylvia.

Billy feels like it is always “Two against one; the boy and his mother against me! He takes after her,” but this is an emergency that has brought utter clarity to his mind. “Knowing you are going to be hanged focuses the mind wonderfully,” he remembers from the old English film “Kind Hearts and Coronets.”

“Would she come with us?” Bill asks and he sees that Sylvia likes the idea.

“I don’t know,” says Scott.

“Well, let’s find out,” says Bill as he stands.

“Right now?”

“We do not have a lot of time,” says Bill, “Let’s talk to her parents. I’ll tell them I’m going on a special mission for the President and that my family is welcome, it will only be for a week. Your mother and I will chaperone. It will be a wonderful trip for Chrissie. If it doesn’t happen we’ll come back and if it does we’ll survive.”

“What about them?” the young man asks.

“Son,” says father to son, “This is the way the world works. We can only save ourselves and the ones we love,” as he grips his shoulder firmly. The young man nods passing over the line from boy to man.

They go to the family Lincoln and drive to the young lady’s home.

“Hi,” says Billy as Chrissie’s mother answers the door. “I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but we need to talk.” Without a word she ushers them in and points to the living room and seats surrounding a coffee table.

“Is your husband available?”

“I’ll get him,” she says and leaves the room.

Chrissie enters wide-eyed saying, “Hi,” with a quizzical look. She joins Scott on the love seat as her father enters in gardening attire.

“Pardon me,” he begins and Billy jumps in with a “Pardon me, but the President is sending me on a special mission to Australia and for cover he wants it to look like a family trip. I’ll be carrying a diplomatic pouch so we’ll get First Class treatment all the way. He insisted I take Scotty and he won’t go unless Chrissie comes. They aren’t children any more and she is welcome. It’ll be 100% chaperoned and a trip of a lifetime for all of us.”

Chrissie exclaims, her dad looks at his wife and her eyelids rise with a “yes” and he says, “OK with us,” and the girl jumps up to kiss her dad. Sylvia looks at Billy with new respect thinking, “What a bullshitter,” and then thinks, “I wonder how many lies he’s told me?”

Single female click here.

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Single Female - SF3

2012-04-09T19:32:00.000-07:00

The plane lands gracefully. You feel like you’ve come from a cloud. After some pushing and being pushed you arrive in the terminal and meet your family, all standing and smiling.

“We made it,” you say as they smile and chatter.

On the ride home you explain that you needed a break and had not seen them for several years. They accept your cover story.

At home your mother takes you to your old room in the house. She had been using it for sewing and her art painting, but restored it for your visit. It is only missing your old movie posters. She apologizes for having lost track of them and you know very well she tossed them out thinking they were trash. You haven’t the heart to tell here they would be worth hundreds of Dollars today. It is takes every bit of your self control to keep from telling your secret and now you know you soon will.

Continue.

Married Female - MF3

2012-04-08T19:49:00.000-07:00

Your husband drops you off at your parent’s home and you are sitting in the living room with your father as your mother has gone to the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, Honey?” your father asks.

“You could always read me like book, dad,” you reply, “but I can’t really tell you much now. I will…” and he looks at you as only he could, but you keep a poker face.

“OK, baby,” he says, using his nickname for you.

Your mother returns.

“Mom and dad,” you begin, “Richard and I had a long talk recently and we said how sad it was that our families really don’t know one another so we’ve booked the entire guest house where you spent your honeymoon for both families. So, lets pack up and go, OK?”

“My god!” says your dad, “What is this the end of the world?” and a deep ice cold chill overtakes you; you almost lose it!

Continue.

Single Male - SM3

2012-04-07T19:55:00.000-07:00

The trip to the lake went well with only the usual few “old married” arguments between your parents. It has taken you a long time to realize they enjoy it. You spent too many years wondering how they ever got together and now you have to admit that maybe that is just the way it is. Who was it that said, “Men marry hoping she will never change. Women marry hoping they can change him, Conflict is baked into the cake,” you think as they are now discussing which socks he brought.

After four hours of driving you stop for lunch and in two more hours you are at the family vacation home. It takes an hour to get in, make the beds, stock the kitchen, build a fire and open some beers. You see that your dad is slowing down. He’s had a long, full life, more than you’re going to get, “but that’s the way it works,” you think.

Your mother starts preparing dinner in the little kitchen after evicting a family of mice in one of the cabinets. From the commotion you would think they were dangerous animals and whole nest of them could not have weighed a quarter-pound. “Yeah,” you think, “I’m home,” and you start to break down, but pull it together before anyone notices.

The evening goes well as you tell them of the wonders of working with the President of the United States. They want to know what you are planning to do after his term is over as he is “termed out,” and you almost tell them, but decide not to. “I’ll do it later,” you decide.

The next morning you and your father get the boat out, fire up the motor and head out on the lake, “To catch dinner!” as you dad loved to say on leaving the dock. You go up to the north end of the lake and kill the motor after turning across the wind. Your father puts out the windward side oar to act as rudder control for keeping the boat across the gentle breeze. You are going to troll for “Wall Eyed Pike, best eating fish in the lake,” your father announces for the 200^th time in your life. You thought of beating him to it, but that wouldn’t be right.

Continue.

Married Male - MM3

2012-04-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

You cross into

Canada

with your family and “Thank God we had all the papers,” you think, realizing this is one of the benefits of having your kind of job. Most families do not have passports for their children and the Canadians are sticklers for documentation, “Retaliation,” you conclude.

“How far north can we go and get good accommodations?” you ask the man behind the counter in the Immigration Office. He directs you to a map, puts a finger on the south finger of Hudson’s Bay.

“James Bay,” he says, “but it’s a two day trip. Good accommodations all the way.”

“Great,” you thank him and leave. “We’re in great shape,” you say to everyone as your SUV goes back on the road. The kids are amazingly quiet, but then seeing all this new wilderness is distracting them. You wonder if they have any idea that this more than just quick vacation trip.

Continue

Day 4

2012-03-10T17:30:00.000-08:00

Bronco Billy Daniels had to pull every string to get Chrissie a passport and he worried that someone would call the White House, but fortunately he was able to work with people who knew who he was so there was no back-checking. The ink was literally drying when he handed it to her.

“It smells funny,” she observed as she looked at it.

“Brand new,” said Bill to the young girl.

In a matter of hours they were on their way to LA where they would change planes to the Qantas jet to Melbourne, Australia. They were literally going to spend one full day in the air to go halfway around the world.

When they were airborne in the Qantas jet the kids went to sleep behind Sylvia and Bill.

“Bill, how are we going to live there?”

“You mean what am I going to do for a job?”

“Yes.”

“Honey, a man who knows as much about the American President and the Presidency will have no trouble getting a post in a place like Australia. I will be a gold mine for those people and they know it.” Sylvia smiled and relaxed. Billy had everything in control, “…just like always,” she thought as she nodded off.

The military facility at Washington National Airport has everything. Filly and Charlotte were getting outfitted in military gear. Charlotte asks of the designer and the clerks are amused. Beautiful woman, she could look good in a gunny sack so a glance in the one tall mirror does not disappoint her or any of the men looking on.

“Why do we need all this stuff in the Caribbean?” she asks.

“Dear,” Filly says firmly, “Don’t make a scene; we are not going to the Caribbean. We are going to Antarctica.” She is stunned and he leans over to her and whispers, “I am keeping us alive. Get it?” and she nods, wide-eyed and hanging in as this little woman is made of tough stuff. It turns her on that Filly is so much in charge and she knows he probably had to “Move Heaven and Earth” to get them on this flight. She goes quietly.

Layton Panola has collected his wife Gretchen and two kids, ten pieces of luggage, leaving the family dog with a friend and a cover story. They have to get to Las Vegas from where they will be taken to Area 51 by the daily employee charter.

The flight passes without event. All have flown before and to the kids, “It’s no big deal.” They have only been told this is a very special emergency and they will be told more later. They have long been given such instructions as their father has always had high security posts and there have been times when they have been guarded by men with guns. They know something big is up, but they also know better than to ask much about it.

McKarren Airport in downtown Las Vegas is convenient and busy on the late spring afternoon of their arrival. They are taken to the high security terminal for the private Area 51 charter line where Secretary Panola is given a warm welcome after which the family is loaded into a small, private jet.

“Gee, you can’t even stand up in this plane,” says Gretchen. The flight is only 20 minutes and they are joined by an F18. Over the intercom the pilot announces, “That is our escort off the port wing. If we were not identified he would have shot us down.” Now the family appreciates where they are going.

They land and are met by a team of military officers all saluting the Secretary. Gretchen and the kids are impressed. They’ve been to several military events before and seen their dad saluted, but this tops that in Area 51, the most secret airbase in the nation.

The base commander says, “I suppose you want to see the big enchilada and meet the man?”

“The man?”

“The time traveler,” says the Colonel. In a flash Secretary puts it all together. This is the big secret the CIA and NSA have been keeping from the Presidents. What a gift? If he has to go back to DC he can tell the President he uncovered this deception by the military on the elected ruling class.

“Yes, of course, that is exactly what I am here for,” Layton lies.

“Sir if I may ask,” says the Colonel, pulling Leon aside. “What is your family doing here. Leon is thinking “a mile a minute” and he diverts with, “Colonel, the President is a very clever man and a lot of strange things are going on Washington now. You know?” That few seconds was all Leon needed to give his mind a chance to hatch, “a good one.”

“I’m sure, sir,” says the Colonel, “but I don’t see…” Leon grabs him by the arm and interrupts with, “There has been a threat on my life and my family and the President thinks it relates to this. He thought we would all be safer to stay here for a while until the terrorists are caught and he wants me to settle this time traveler business once and for all. Kind of “killing all the birds with one stone” thing.”

The Colonel’s quizzical expression fades as he does not want to appear stupid so he simply smiles and resumes conducting the group into the facility.

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Single Female - SF4

2012-03-09T22:36:00.000-08:00

You’ve had a day to relive a lot of old memories just being in your old room where you dreamed your dreams and schemed your schemes, listened to distant radio stations in the night, hearing of wonderful people living exciting lives in the east.

Now it is all going to end, but somehow a great peace has come over you as you will be with the ones you gave you life, certainly in a moment of lust, which you can believe of your father. They loved you all your life and no one else has. You feel sorry that you had not married, but then that would make things much more complicated now and you would rather have it simple.

On reflection you realize that only you, and a handful of people know when they are going to die, “Sort of like the condemned,” you reflect and you feel cold all over. You feel the need to be with your family and virtually run from your room to find your mother in the kitchen.

“Mom?”

“Yes,” she says, turning away from the sink.

“Mom,” you say as you take a seat at the breakfast table, “There is something I have to tell you.”

Continue.

Marrried Female - MF4

2012-03-08T22:44:00.000-08:00

Both families have gathered at the guest house and they'e sitting around the large dining table exchanging small talk as they eat turnovers for which the establishment is famous. Some are drinking coffee, others wine.

“Yes, this is where we spent our honeymoon,” your mother confirms, “It’s perfectly preserved. Just like the time we were here. Our lives really began right here.” You nearly break down knowing they will end, “Right here.” But, you manage to keep control as you exchange knowing glances with your husband, still you can’t prevent a few tears.

“Oh dear,” says your mother, “I’ve upset you.”

“Oh no, mom, it’s just so beautiful, so romantically beautiful,” and it was, but not the reason you are breaking down.

Continue

Single Male - SM4

2012-03-07T22:48:00.000-08:00

The lake is long and the breeze light so you’re not moving fast and there is never quick action. You and your dad settle back for slow drift leaning back to pick up what sun you can in the early spring day.

“So how are things in Washington, son,” says your former Senator father.

“Just as corrupt as ever, dad,” you reply.

“That will never change, son. It’s all money and power. The only cure is to give them one term. That cuts off all the fund raising if you are not going to get re-elected.”

“Why doesn’t that happen, dad?”

“The people can’t seem to get organized. It escapes me,” he says.

“The Tea Party came close,” you note.

“Close is not good enough, son.”

Nothing is said for while. The swell slaps the boat once every six seconds like a clock. The sun is rising and warming things a bit. It is becoming more comfortable. You feel like you could live forever, but that is not going to happen and you really feel an obligation to tell your father what is happening. He was a Senator, after all.

“Dad,” you begin and in five minutes you have played back to him the whole scene in the Cabinet Room of the White House. You are amazed at his aplomb, but remember that here is a man who for 30 years heard of and dealt with the crises of the nation.

“Son,” he begins, “it may not be true, but for the sake of reason let us say we will believe it. Your mother needs to know and there are things we have to say. She and I are all we have. I’m only sorry you do not have someone to love, share with and help through this. There must be many single women out there that are going to be alone when this happens. That is wrong, son, wrong.”

Once again you dad manages to flog you because you didn’t marry one of those girls from high school that he thought were so great just because they were well born. How many times have you tried to tell him that to you they were like sisters. “They're like kissing your sister.”

“We have to go back to the cottage and tell your mother. There are things to do.” You can understand his wanting to get back to her, but what the Hell is there to do? What the Hell is there that you can do?

Continue.

Married Male - MM4

2012-03-06T22:55:00.000-08:00

It is your second day in Canada and after a great breakfast you are back on the road and your son is asking questions like a cop or an auditor; he’s onto something. Your wife looks and mouths, “Tell him.”

“OK,” you exclaim, taking a deep breath, “We are here and going as far north as we can because the President thinks an asteroid is going to hit Mexico City and maybe destroy Earth.”

“Really?” he exclaims and follows with a barrage of questions as his sister sits stunned over the news.

“That happened in the same place 260 million years ago and ended the age of the dinosaurs!” says your precocious boy.

“That’s right,” you affirm.

“But the small animals survived.”

“Right.”

“The burrowers.”

“That is correct,” you agree.

“Are we going to be underground, like in a cave when this happens?”

“If we can find one, but my idea was just to get as far north as we can. I didn’t know any caves we could go to.”

“Dad,” he cries, “You should have asked me. I know all about caves,” and his mother nods in agreement. Now you have a sinking feeling that perhaps you have made a fatal mistake for your family. It’s like an ice pick in your heart.

“You’re right son,” you admit, “we will look for a cave or a mine,” and everyone settles back in silence as the car drones on. Your daughter is very upset and trying not to show it.

Continued.

Day 5

2012-02-10T17:27:00.000-08:00

D5 The Daniels family lands in Melbourne after a 20 hour overnight from Los Angeles. They are exhausted and check into a hotel with pool where Scott and Chrissie are soon splashing and sunning. Bill gets on the phone and within an hour three men from the government have come to call. Bill goes with them for a meeting with the Prime Minister. Sylvia will stay with the kids.

“Welcome to Australia, Mr. Daniels.”

“I offer the regards of my President, sir,” says Bill.

“Gentlemen, Mr. Daniels and I need to speak privately,” he says to the subordinates and they leave, closing the door behind them.

“I’ll be frank with you sir,” begins Bill, “I am here with my son and his fiance’ in an effort to survive. I know you know.”

“Quite,” he says, “We are going to evacuate our seaside communities on a tsunami warning. We’ll announce an undersea earthquake; that sort of thing happens and hope for the best. Care for a whisky?”

“I certainly would, sir,” says Bill.

“What do you think about the atmosphere?”

“ I have no idea,” says Bill, “I’m not a science guy.”

“Too bad,” muses the PM as he settles back with his glass.

For ten minutes they compare notes on American and Australian politics, laughing over stories. A light flashes on the PM’s phone. He picks it up saying, “Um, Um, one moment.”

“I see you are busy,” says Bill as he stands. The PM stands and nods saying, “Yes, but when this is over come and see me if you are going to stay. We can use a man with your talents and experience. I’m sure we’ll have reason to learn more about America regardless what happens.”

“Certainly,” and thank you.

Bill is taken back to the hotel and tells Sylvia he has a job when the emergency is over and she is greatly relieved.

Meanwhile the giant C5 military transport is lumbering through a refueling operation on the verge of a stall as two pilots work to keep the planes together. Dr. Fogsten and Charlotte feel the anxiety in the air and she adds that to her discomfort after six hours on this plane. She feels like a pig and is dreaming of a warm shower.

“OK, honey,” he says to her.

“No, but I’ll fake it,” she says being a good sport. “When will we get there?”

“I hate to tell you this, but it will be eight more hours.”

“I’m not going to scream. I am not going to scream,” she says in a rising voice.

“Honey, we are saving our lives and sometimes it means discomfort.” She nodded that she understood and he put his arm around her as the plane disconnected from the tanker and climbed to cruising altitude noisily.

They slept through most of the last eight hours of the trip, exhausted from the noise, discomfort of the rather spare, low bid, military seats.

In Area 51 Defense Secretary Panola is meeting with Colonel Buller.

“I’m glad the President is finally going to deal with this thing.”

“Thing?” asks Layton.

“Yeah, the Big Enchilada. I suppose you want to see it now.” At this point the Secretary has not a clue, but senses the opportunity so he agrees. The Colonel leads him from the office to an elevator, go up to the ground level and walk to a hanger with guards at the door. They wave through and are in a darkened hanger. The Colonel goes to a nearby switch panel and throws a big switch.

“What the Hell?” says Layton as he sees a 30 foot diameter disk UFO before him.

“OK, Mr. Secretary, I’ll tell you everything we know about this craft, but it ain’t much.

“My God!” says Layton as he approaches the craft asking, “Is it OK?”

“Sure, go ahead, put your hand on it. It’s OK,” and Layton gets a cold metallic feel of the perfectly smooth craft.”

“Where is it from?”

“The real question is, “When is it from,”” says the Colonel.

“You mean these things are time machines?”

“That’s the story. As much as we can get from him.”

“Him? You mean you captured the pilot.”

“Sure, I thought you knew.”

“Did the President know about this?”

“When you showed up I thought he did.”

“No, I’m here to protect my family. An asteroid is supposed to hit Earth on the 13^th and I know you have deep earth facilities here, all kinds of emergency stuff and food stored.”

“Well, I’ve just put my butt in a big wringer,” says the Colonel.

“Not by me,” says Layton, thinking of his best moves. He needs this guy a lot more than this guy needs him. He has to make him an ally so he adds:

“Look, I’ll do whatever I can to help you with this, but we all have a much bigger problem now.”

Like a flash it hits him! If the pilot is from the future then there is a future! Mankind survived!

“Is this guy here?”

“Sure, you want to meet him? He’s kind of a funny little guy.”

“Little?”

“Yeah, he’s only three and a half feet tall, 42 inehes. And he only has three fingers, no little finger.”

“And he talks?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“You hear him in your head and you think back to him. It takes a little while to get the hang of it.”

Colonel Buller leads Layton out of the hanger and into a long hall.

“We have him set up in a nice living quarters and he understands that he can’t leave until we can get his craft fueled. He needs a lot of helium 3 for his fusion reactor and we are having a hard time getting enough of it, but we’re working on it.”

“Have you learned anything from him?”

“Oh yeah, a lot, but so much of it involves exotic materials we have not made yet we’ll have to gear up a lot of technology to use it. It’ll make the Manhattan project look like a pizza factory; that’s the problem.”

“And why would we want to navigate time?” Layton asks. The Colonel looks at him like he’s nuts.

“Sir, with all due respect that UFO is the greatest weapon of all time. We could go back in time and kill one man to prevent World War II.”

“Then what?”

“Then what would happen?”

“We don’t know…”

“That’s the problem.”

They arrive at a door and Layton is shown into a complex of rooms first meeting a room with three guards and two computer terminals. They all stand and salute the Colonel who introduces the Secretary. Then he is taken into a living room with a giant TV screen showing a film and Layton hears a voice saying, “I feel someone new in my space,” and a tiny man rises from an easy chair.

JoRan is grey in color, his skin and clothing are a blue-gray that Layton has never seen. The tiny man puts out a three-fingered hand and Layton takes it in a welcoming way. Then he hears:

“You are an important man,” and he thinks back,

“Some say that, but you are more important than I. Why are you here?”

“I am a soldier in uniform on a research mission to find the when of the great extinction.”

“Then it is true,” says Layton, “Most of humanity will die as a result of this.”

“Yes, but we have never been able to when it precisely. That is my assignment.”

“It is going to be in two days on April 13.”

“Then I must be gone or I will die with you and I have important information for my time.”

“Why is knowing when so important?”

“Because we are evolving and must learn how to control it.” He held up his hand. “You see we have lost our little fingers. Is evolution turning back and taking us back to simpler forms? Can we stop it?”

Layton expresses, “But how does this…”

“I don’t know. I am a soldier. My mission is to return with the information.”

“Colonel,” Layton says to the man, “What’s the story on helium 3?”

“Come outside,” he replies and the two men leave the time traveler.

The Colonel takes Layton several hundred feet away saying, “I think we’re safe here.”

“Safe?”

“I don’t want him to hear me.”

“You have it, don’t you,” accuses Layton.

“I uh,” the man fumbles, “we didn’t know what to do with him! I’ve been trying to get to the President, but there are so many people between and nobody ever wants to make a decision. That’s the problem with all this stuff.”

Layton can sympathize with the man, but he can see this is a much bigger problem and action is needed.

“OK, we have the helium 3. I’ll sign off on it. We may just be saving the human race in 7,000,000 AD.”

“What about us?” wails the Colonel.

“I don’t know. We can hunker down and hope. That’s about it.”

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Single Female - SF5

2012-02-09T06:39:00.000-08:00

Your mother is sitting with her needlepoint looking stunned as what you have told her sinks in. You had no idea how she would take it.

“I have to call Grace,” she says, mentioning her sister who lives in Saint Louis with her husband.

“No mother, you can’t, I mean you shouldn’t. I had not meant to tell you, but then…” You regret that you did tell her as she is going to want to talk to her sister.

“Mom, just call her in a couple of days, but don’t tell her, believe me she’ll be better off not knowing. That’s the President’s decision. He only told us because he had to in case the story breaks so we can cover it. We want to prevent panic. Everything that we can do is being done..” She sits down.

“I’ll be with your father,” she says with tears running down her cheeks. “I miss him so much. Even now when things happen I think, “Wait till I tell George. I’m so sorry you don’t have someone.”

“Mother, maybe next time, but it just didn’t happen. I don’t know why. Nobody asked me mother.”

“Well, we’re not going to talk about that now…” and once again your mother has passed over an issue, but you are consoled that she looks forward to being with your father. You can’t beat that.

Continue.

Married Female - MM5

2012-02-08T06:47:00.000-08:00

The guesthouse is on a bluff over the sea with a long staircase down to the sand. You and your husband go for a walk on the beach.

“I never thought I would be glad we never had children,” you say reflexively.

“I know, I’ve thought about it too, but I came up with a different answer,” says he.

“Really? And, what is that?”

“I think we should have given someone life even if it were only to be for a short time.”

“You mean even if you knew?”

“I would not have said so a few days ago, but I do now.”

“It is strange; knowing when you are going to die…” you say and he grips your hand.

“I don’t think this is the end of us,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“ Reincarnation, there are 2,500 documented cases at the University of Virginia. They have a research department for it. I’ve read of two little boys who have well documented recollections of having been a soldier and a pilot, killed in battle. One was introduced to his old fighter group and he knew all the men! After it was over he told his mother he didn’t want to go back because everybody looked so old!”

“My goodness…”

“Apparently there are lots of kids who have recollections between age three and five and then the new life takes over because they find the old life is no longer valid or liveable.”

“And, they are little.”

“Right.

“So next time we’ll do it right and be high school sweethearts.

“Oh, you’re silly…. But, I like it…

Continue.

Single Male - SM5

2012-02-07T06:53:00.000-08:00

“Oh damn,” yells your father, “I’m snagged,” as he was reeling in.

“Wait a minute, dad,” you say, “I don’t think that’s snag. Look at your rod tip! It’s vibrating. Logs don’t do that. You’ve got a big fish on there.”

“You know, I think you’re right,” as he reels in slowly. “Oh, it’s got to be a log. It’s too big.”

“Dad, logs don’t shake the tip. He’s trying to spit the hook. Just keep the pressure on and he’ll tire.”

The struggle between man and fish went on for 20 minutes. Here a retired US Senator and his Presidential Cabinet member son are in the middle of a northern lake struggling with a fish after they have shared that the world is coming to an end. There are times when you have to keep your priorities straight and these men are seeing to just that.

“My God!” the old man exclaims, “Is that a Walleye?” The fish was more than three feet long and jet black on the back. The belly was typical white, but the upper part of the fish was very dark. Fortunately it was very tired as a pike of that size can be dangerous if he is fresh. This one was worn out.

They got him in the boat and he thrashed weakly.“What do you think he weighs?” asked the Senator.

“At least 20 pounds! Could be world record. We should take him to the bait shop and do an official weighing,” you say honoring your dad’s trophy.

“Son, I think we should just eat the son-of-a-bitch and let it go at that given what is happening,” and on that you start the motor and head back to the cottage knowing this is your last fishing trip with your father as your mother will want to go home and prepare, for what you have no idea, but she will think of something.

The sound and smell of the old outboard are special now that you know it is the last time. Last times are very special and rarely to we know when they are happening. As the boat pulls up to the dock you dad stops you for a moment.

“Son, I don’t want to tell your mother now. I don’t want to get her upset until we have to. Tomorrow will be fine. Let’s enjoy the fish tonight. OK?”

“Sure dad…”

As you approach the cabin and your dad is carrying the giant Walleye your mother bursts out of the door.”

“My goodness! What in the world?”

“We think this may be the largest Walleye ever caught.”

“Gracious, what are you going to do?”

“Eat it!” exclaims your father.

“You’re not going to have it weighed?”

“Sarah, if this is a world record fish they’ll be after me to run for the Senate again.”

You watch as your mother’s face wrinkles a little, then:

“We’ll eat it,” she says.

You and he clean the monster fish as your mother rustles through the pantry looking for the large antique frying pan used by her mother.

Continue.