1

The time was just after two o’clock, the eleventh of November. The bird was running late due to the heavy storm clouds hovering just outside of La Guardia, threatening snow and the dreaded ice. It never came, though the wind rattled the bird on its mooring, shaking about the passengers inside.

Lawrence Cale made an attempt to mop up the water in his lap after a particularly strong gust, but was having little luck in finding something both dry and disposable. He finally stole two napkins from the passing service cart and cleaned the mess up. His mini trash was already full from his previous thee drinks, so he left the soggy napkins on the tray in front of him.

“Attention passengers: the tower has cleared us for take off. We will be moving to a free pad and leaving for D.C. Dulles airport within five minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts and dispose of all food and drink. Thank you for flying Eastern and enjoy your flight.”

Lawrence rammed the napkins into his neighbors half full trash and folded his tray upright, impatient to be moving. The birds never made much turbulence lifting off, though apparently no one had yet figured out how to move them across the ground without enough jolts to rip the hair from ones scull and send it airborne before the rest of the person.

The sky was still buried behind banks of gray as the bird took to the air, having had no wait time at the pad. The trip to Dulles theoretically should have taken no more than forty minutes, but another weather front caused a easterly diversion adding another half hour to the travel time. Upon arrival they were further delayed by improper customs on the bird ahead of them in the dock. By the time they disembarked two additional hours had been accrued on an otherwise simple flight.

“Please fly with Eastern again,” the voice said as Cale left boarding hall. He threw his remaining drink cup at the speaker and grabbed his bags off the belt. The too chipper voice was always there and always happy, no matter who you flew with.

“Bloody airlines, think they can mess with your schedule all they want.” He stepped outside and hailed a taxi, hoping one of them may actually be able to get him to his destination quicky. The first man who stopped did not speak English and was too slow on the up think. The second was stolen by a mother and a couple of kids, but the third fit his needs. The twelve minute drive to his hotel only took ten and Cale felt that something may actually turn out decent. The feeling lasted as long as the trip from the cab to the reception desk.

“Dr. Cale, there was a call for you that arrived about ten minutes ago. They left a message on your room phone and also asked if we would inform you that your cell is not on.”

“Thank you,” he said, trying not to sound too gruff. It never did any good to get your wait staff upset at you. He rode the elevator to the fifth floor, then took the stairs up two more flights to his room and checked the readout. The door security was fully intact. He keyed the pad, entered the room, cleared the messages, and went to bed.

2

“Standby for clearance.” Aaron Myers lifted his arms and let the readers of the Hold’s new security system sweep around his body. They never actually touched him but he still felt a shiver every time one of the units got close. They seemed to have a life of their own and they were bored. So now they looked for a reason to expel someone. “All clear. Please step forward.”

“Welcome Keeper,” the door said as he keyed it open. The female voice used in that unit freaked Aaron out more than most did. It was not as sterile as the others, nor as pathetic sounding. It almost seemed waiting for someone to respond to it so it could launch into a conversation of life as a door. He passed through the short hall without turning his head and keyed the second door. After entering his security code the door opened and he passed into the Hold itself.

The largest and most secure building the in D.C. area, the Hold was very new in comparison to most of the rest of the city. New construction had occurred in the suburbs for the last twenty years, but when the Holders wanted a building they were able to commandeer any plot of land they set their eyes on. Within a few weeks of designating the property the historic buildings were gone and the Hold was being built. It was an interesting job, trying to get it done in time and under the full security precautions placed there by its masters. Money was not a worry. The only people allowed on site were those with high enough security clearance, which limited the crew to about two hundred individuals from around D.C. As the project continued and little progress was made the Holders began to farm out certain portions of the building to defense contractors and shipping the finished product to the site to insert in to its waiting whole.

Aaron nodded to Dr. Aims as he passed, keeping his face steady and expressionless. Most of the Holders were looking for any reason to fire anyone who could even remotely be jeopardizing their precious security. Keepers took far less energy to train than was required to secure the entire building again.

His office was still locked when he arrived. He glanced at his watch. Quarter to seven. He was not on the clock for another five minutes. Leaning against the wall he called up the days schedule on his palm. Fairly normal, except there was a blinking indicator. Change in schedule: meeting with Dr. Conley and a contractor from a defense agency. Time: eleven o’clock. Nothing to worry about. He finished revising his schedule, opened the newly unlocked door and entered, glad for once to have a break in the job’s monotony.

3

Dr. Hals glanced at the interoffice memo. Three more meetings added this week, none of them about anything critical, yet he was expected to be there for each and every one, maybe even to give a presentation. Some of the staff’s purpose seemed to be solely to propagate more meetings, which in turn served only to hire additional pointless staff. If he had given much trust to evolution, Dr. Hals might have worried about the office becoming a sentient, self serving organism, able to reproduce itself. As it stood, though, it was nothing more than an irritant. The intercom beebed.

“Dr. Hals, Dr. Conley wishes to see you.”

“Thank you Clair. Tell him I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Yes sir.” What is up with the always calling everyone doctor? We know we each have PhDs in a dozen disciplines, so why rub it into everyone faces all the time? He got up from his chair and closed down his work station. It would only take at most five minutes to talk to Conley, but if company policy says to do something, you did it, or paid in blood.

He locked the door as he left his office, gave his secretary a couple of jobs to do in the mean time and made his way down the hall to Conley’s office.

It was located in probably the most sterile hall of an incredibly sterile building. Nothing, not a door, not a thermostat, not a light switch, marred the perfect dull metal of the hall. Each footstep echoed deeply in the air as well as in Hals’ brain. He hated going to Conley’s office.

“Thank you for coming so quickly Dr. Hals,” Conley said as he opened the door. “I am glad we can work together so nicely.” Hals had given up trying to figure out what it was Conley was actually trying to talk about. He was the only one on staff who had any degree in business, even if it was only a bachelors, and it left him thinking he should act how a real businessman acted. The only problem was that he had never met a real businessman, much less talked to one.

He slipped into the office, trying to avoid the piles of research on the floor. The stacks of books filled the corners almost to the ceiling while every surface was littered with random papers. Conley was sitting behind his desk, shuffling papers around, trying to look busy. The workstation monitor was off but an airy jingle came out from the speakers.
“What did you want to talk about?” Hals asked, hoping to get out before Conley got himself worked up over something trivial or nonexistent.

“I double booked myself later today. I am meeting with Director Klier at noon to discuss the new protocol.” He stopped, waiting to see if Hals would take the bait but was met with only silence. He continued, “The problem is I am supposed to meet a new contractor at eleven. I need you to take the second meeting and show the guy around the place, the general secure tour. I’m sure you still remember that, it was you who set it up before.” Hals nodded, getting impatient. “You should be able to get him out in fifteen minutes tops without sweat. I’ll set up another meeting for him to talk to the lawyers sometime later. Pretty simple, really. No problems.” It was not a question.

“No,” Hals said, taking a few deep breaths.

“Alright, then I shall see you at the staff tomorrow.” He dismissed him with a simple hand wave and began to shuffle through his papers again. The annoying tune was still playing softly over the speakers when Hals closed the door and returned to his office, his mood significantly darker than when he first left.