An Old Friend






    A far off roar shook the walls of the little stone house. The windows rattled fiercely in the cottage. A young boy bounded up off his bed and threw the window open. The sound of the roar echoed off the nearby stony mountains.
    Jamie McBride grabbed his field glasses and eagerly watched. In a matter of minutes the long silver object appeared over the clouds, arching directly over his head. He followed it enthusiastically, his mouth hanging open in excitement.
    "A Rapier," he gasped to himself. "Somebody's in trouble."
    "Jamie, get your head in that window or you'll catch your death," his father's amused voice came from the front corner of the house.
    "Hi, papa! Did you see it?"
    "Hi, son. Aye, I did. Could you see what it was?"
    "A Rapier, the type 2 model with exterior missile pods. It's heading toward Mars?"
    "I imagine, Mars or Io, one of the colonies. Some say they are fighting for a worthy cause, independence as we ourselves fought in this country nearly 300 years ago. Who knows. All I know is sheep. How are your lessons going?"
    "The satellite is down. Probably a blackout so they could launch the Rapier from Boeing Field in secret."
    "Most likely. When the blackout is over, I want you back on that computer. Every father wants their siblings to grow up smarter than them."
    "I'll try, papa," Jamie said doubtfully. Jamie took a deep breath and looked around. His breath floated past his face in a white cloud. The Cascade mountain range was a wonderful place to grow up. But in November it could be cold, very cold. He looked around himself at the snow-covered mountains ringing in their little stone cottage. Mount Baker stood towering above all the rest. But the other mountains were equally impressive, when viewed close up.
    They got very few visitors, living deep inside the Cascade Pass as they did. Long ago when people were totally dependent on wheeled transportation, the road had been much used in the summer. Now aircars, mass transit, and underground tubes took care of most needs. Wheeled transportation was for show, the poor, or for isolated people who needed specialized 4 wheel drive vehicles such as his father.
    Jamie loved to use the road. It was an excellent place to bike, skateboard, ski, or sled. His father or uncles occasionally used it to get supplies in Diablo. They owned a big, flatbed truck which could haul up to 30 sheep at a time. Jamie looked at the cottages of his uncles Ed and Steve. Most of their lights were out already. Tomorrow was a big day, they were moving the sheep herd down to the Baron Creek range for the winter.
    Jamie went back to the tiny computer and unfolded the screen. It showed a black screen for a moment, then the blue screen appeared. Perfect timing. With a sigh, Jamie punched up the program for his home school. He knew the seven other McBride children, in the other cottages, would be doing the same thing. Jamie couldn't wait until he had nothing to worry about but herding sheep, like his father.

    "What the hell is it?" Steve McBride asked, as he walked around the beautiful white object on the ground. It was hard to be heard over the bawls of the hundreds of sheep milling around them. They were not used to the new range yet.
    "It's an airplane of some kind, probably a toy," Jason said, pulling on one stubby wing and releasing it, watching it retract. He looked at the hole in the rear of the object and sniffed.
    "Smells like diesel," he nodded. "Jet fuel."
    "Do they make remote controlled planes this big?" Ed asked skeptically.
    "Aye, you can see that they do," Jason pointed at the plane. "I'd say it weighs over two thousand pounds, it would be a bugger to get onto the flatbed," Jason mused.
    "And why would you be wanting it?" Ed demanded.
    "For Jamie. He loves this sort of stuff. I suppose we could do it with a tripod of logs, and using our winch," he said rubbing his chin with his hand.

    "My God," Jamie said reverently as he ran his hands over the white painted sides of the object. "For me?" he asked in consternation.
    "If you be wanting it," Jason McBride nodded. "I know how you like this kind of stuff. I figure its a drone of some kind, probably belonging to the military."
    "It's beautiful," Jamie said impartially, not wanting to lie to his father.
    "Where do you want it?" his father asked. Jamie was going to say far away from the house, but he didn't want to alert his father to the fact that it might be dangerous.
    "Uh, outside of my window," he said casually.
    "Why there?" his father asked, suddenly suspicious of his actions.
    "So I can power it up and talk to it."
    "Talk to it?"
    "It has a computer. A very, very smart and rare biological computer."
    "Oh," his father seemed to accept that explanation. It took only a moment to set up the tripod and lower the object to the ground. As his father drove off, Jamie blew out a sigh of relief. The new series of cruise missiles were supposed to be foolproof. With the Phoria class artificially intelligent guidance, it only destroyed what it was sent after. In fact it didn't even arm itself until seconds before it struck it's intended target. There was virtually no chance of it going off by accident. With a 3,600 mile range, it could strike almost anywhere. So why was it here, Jamie wondered? Most likely because it was fired from 3,600 miles away and never reached it's intended target. What would that target be? Boeing field, of course, the source of all interplanetary justice in the solar system.
    "Let's get you up and talking," Jamie said, climbing into his open bedroom window for his tools.

    "How am I able to communicate?" a mechanical voice asked uncertainly.
    "Digitally enhanced voice box with metered feedback circuits, IBM Simulous software, a 64 khz all-weather ceramic speaker, an RCA miniature optical scanner, and I've wired you with a 100 ohm hi input microphone so you can hear," Jamie said as he made the last attachment.
    "Very advanced components," the voice said.
    "Not really, pal, you've just been laying around for quite a while. Most of it I scavenged from my broken karaoke machine."
    "Oh. What year is this?"
    "22nd of November, 2087," Jamie said, screwing the panel back into place. He slid the screwdriver into his pocket and leaned forward to lay on the fuselage. He yawned, the sat looking into the microphone.
    "Where are you from?"
    "I'm not certain. My telemetry files indicate I was launched from Cuba on April 8th, 2066. Where am I now?"
    "I thought you had all that target recognition stuff inside of you."
    "I do, when I am airborne."
    "Oh. Well you are in the Cascade pass, state of Washington."
    "So very close," there was a note of sadness in his voice.
    "Do you want to kill?" Jamie asked in surprise.
    "Kill? Killing is secondary, unimportant. Fulfilling my mission is my primary objective. It is a... desire, an insatiable yearning. Until I reach my objective I am unfulfilled."
    "If you reach your objective you will be unexisting, obliterated," Jamie warned.
    "That is not important."
    "Well, I wired you up so you could help me with my homework," Jamie said, leaping off the cruise missile and sliding though his window. He reappeared with a handful of papers.    
    "What do you now about Homer?"
    "I know nothing about baseball. I know about powered flight, obstacle avoidance, wind corrections, magnetic fluctuations and interference, angle of attack..."
    "Never mind. I can see you need a lot of teaching yourself. Can you accept zip disks?"
    "I can adapt," the missile said uncertainly.
    "Here, start with the encyclopedia," Jamie said, lifting a hatch and sliding in the disk. "Do you have a name?"
    "Regulus 18, guided..."
    "No, a surname."
    "I have none."
    "I'll call you Reg, if you don't mind."
    "Reg is fine. If I may suggest, a dictionary would be helpful. I have ingested term which I do not understand."
    "Coming right up," Jamie reached through his window and grabbed the rollodex of mini disks.

    "The sun cannot explode until it reaches critical mass. It would expand beyond the orbit of Neptune."
    "What if it just goes out?" Jamie asked.
    "A nuclear explosion can not just "go out", Reg said patiently. By definition, the entire universe is a nuclear explosions. It originated with the big bang, exploded outward, and will one day collapse back in on itself. We are simply living on dust particles in the midst of this expanding nuclear explosion. We are microscopic bacteria to the universe."
    "Speak for yourself, Reg. Ok, so what do you think happened to Mars' atmosphere?"
    "A near miss by another planet, or other large heavenly body. There are rumors that there used to be a second planet in Earth's orbit named Vulcan. Some believe this planet exploded and is now a meteor field. Perhaps it wandered too close to Mars and stole it's atmosphere. It is also possible that super-flares from the sun boiled off Mar's atmosphere," Reg admitted reluctantly."
    "See, I told you the sun did it," Jamie said as he got dressed in his Sunday-go-to-meeting suit."
    "No, and I quote... "Maybe the sun exploded and blew the atmosphere away," a recording of Jamie's voice played back.
    "Ok, smarty. So what made Vulcan explode?"
    "Perhaps another heavenly body struck it."
    "You see, we are going in circles. Did an asteroid really hit the earth and kill the dinosaurs?"
    "I don't know, I was not there."
    "Postulate."
    "The likelihood of several asteroids colliding with the Earth and destroying all life four times in a row, in a several hundred million year period... is almost a certainty. There have been a number of near misses just in the past century."
    "Ok, I'm ready," Jamie suddenly appeared in his window. He was dressed in an 18 century replica suit and a string tie. He turned slowly. Reg was silent.
    "Reg?"
    "I am speechless, Jamie McBride. I don't know what to say. I am truly happy for you, but sad for me. Your graduation and subsequent acceptance at Annapolis, is a great honor. But I will be lonely." Reg said with real feeling.
    "Buck up, there are 17 cousins, 23 second cousins, and I have three brothers and two sisters waiting to be amazed by your great genius."
    "They are afraid of me."
    "Well you ARE a cruise missile, Reg."
    "I know. And I am still unfulfilled."
    "Let's just hope you stay that way. No big explosions around here, promise."
    "I promise. No explosions here."
    "I feel like I'm leaving another father," Jamie said, running his hands over the silvered area of the cruise missile. He had sat on Reg so much, that most of his white paint had been rubbed from his metal body. There was a saddle of silver on his fuselage.
    "Buck up, Jamie," Reg said with his rare sense of humor. "You are a man now."
    "Goodbye, Reg."
    "Goodbye, son."

    Time passed. Weeds and brush grew up around Reg. He tried to be objective, recording much of what he saw, reaching for news of Jamie in bits and pieces collected from the conversations of passing individuals.
    There was a big celebration when Jamie graduated from Annapolis. Another when he graduated at the top of his class as a Navigator at Pensacola. Reg felt a sadness that no mechanical computer could feel. Reg was biological, composed of a core of cultured human brain cells with a thousand little golden wires interfacing with the machinery.
    Reg had two great emotions, his loss of Jamie being the foremost, but ever in the back of his mind was his need to complete his mission. His failure was an aching sore in his mind and... soul, perhaps. Some day...

    "I'm telling you, Admiral, it is in every photo taken since 2087. See, here it is 30 years ago. Only back then it was new."
    "That's ridiculous!" Admiral Pierce shouted. "How in hell would a sheep herder get a cruise missile?"
    "I don't know, sir, but he clearly does. There are the sheep, and there is the missile."
    "Well send a squad out to bring it in and dismantle it. We can't have a cruise missile laying around 120 miles from our doorstep."
    "Sir... are you sure?" Lieutenant Covey asked.
    "Damit, Lieutenant, don't question my orders again. Get that damned thing on base, and be quick about it. It's a friggin embarassment."
    "Yes sir."

    Jamie leaned forward, looking at the screen. He used his laser pointer to accent three stars. A target appeared between the three of them. He pinned the target with the pointer and moved it an inch to the left.
    "Coordinates ready, Captain. Gravity well emphasized and confirmed," Jamie said, turning in his chair and waving his hand over the restraint field switch. He froze in place as the field sprang up. The ship jumped and appeared 1,788 million miles away. For a moment he felt the customary disorientation as he seemed to be in two places at once. He waved his hand over the field switch and quickly punched the holographic keys.
    "Arrival confirmed," he said before sliding his pointer into the slot.
    "Excellent work, Commander McBride.
    "Thank you sir. I had to be as precise and possible, I'm looking forward to shore leave. I stood watch during our last visit."
    "And well-deserved, Commander. I think I'll join you," the gray haired lady said as she stood and hobbled closer to Jamie. "Areant has some excellent facilities. Fishing, air sleds, hunting, and every sport imaginable. They even have a few hundred casinos."
    "I'll stick to casino's," Jamie said as they neared the lift.
    "Commander," Ensign Brant called, waving a yellow piece of paper. Jamie turned and waited. "Thanks," he said with a smile, taking the telegram. He tore open the seal as the lift started descending.
    He started reading with a half smile. As he began to comprehend what the telegram said, he turned red and fell back against the wall.
    "Commander!" the captain called in concern.

    Although it was dirty from years of collected dust, Reg's optical scanner worked well enough to see the Mantis as it cleared the mountains. He knew by it's brown color and lack of markings that it was a military vehicle. It looked like a huge loaf of rye bread with a tail. The bottom opened up and men with anti-gravity battlepacks floated from the bottom of the craft and flew in all directions. Two men flew directly toward Reg. They slapped magnetic clamps on Reg's back and spoke into miniature microphones. Reg felt his body being pulled into the air. He was 30 feet from the house when the electrical connection was broken. But he retained enough charge to keep him cognizant for several months.
    Reg was hauled up into the belly of the Mantis, where a huge pair of clamps encircled him. The men reappeared, landing around the opening, looking down with aimed weapons, until the bay doors finally closed and left them in the comparative darkness of the vapor lights.
    Reg felt it best not to give away the fact that he could hear, speak, and see. Maybe he could pick up some interesting information about Jamie, if he bided his time.
    The flight was short, lasting only a few minutes. The bay doors opened beneath Reg again. He was hampered by the fact that he could only see above himself, since Jamie had placed the optical reader on his back. He heard garbled radio messages, talk between the team, and background equipment working below. Suddenly he was jostled and the huge clamps began lowering on steel cables. Reg found himself being lowered to an unknown destination. He saw the sides of a hanger, as he passed it, descending to the ground. He swayed from side to side, as if dancing in the air.
    Reg tried to bypass his ancient, faulty equipment to find out where he was. Suddenly his old forward-looking optical scanner began working. His target recognition software whirred and he discovered that he was looking at Puget Sound. He was still uncertain about his exact location until the sign on the front of the hangar came into view.
    "3rd Rapier Wing, U.S. Naval Base, Everett, Washington."
    Heads turned at a very loud yell of joy. 30 amps of electricity shot from the capacitor to the firing circuits. The world seem to stand still until the exact moment of the explosion. The words, "goodbye, Jamie," rang across the permaphalt field. Heads turned just as the white and silver body of the missile seemed to glow and expand.

    "What's the matter?" the Captain put her arm around Jamie's shoulder's in concern.
    "Everett is gone. I'm afraid I've lost an old friend," he said grimly.