Apollo 18 - History Lesson

History Lesson

            Storm had decided to put the pad debacle behind him.  What was his father going to do.  Shoot him.  He will simply say he must have swapped it with someone else's. Oops! But having a guard at school.  One that followed him wherever he went.  That was a whole different problem.  He needed to get a message to Casandra and have a life.  That was not going to be possible with the gestapo on his heels all day. He tried to ditch the guard twice by the time they got to school, but honestly where was he going to go. The city was big, but not really.  Storm thought that maybe without his chip it would be harder to track him, but the number of surveillance cameras at the school proved up to the task and even if he managed to get a few steps ahead of his shadow, his shadow always managed to catch up. By third period, Storm had given up.  

            Casandra did pass him in the hall once, but Storm gave her the “not now” signal and she passed like she didn’t even know him.  They even sat on opposite ends of the cafeteria during lunch because Storm got his food and went over and sat with the jocks.  Not wanting to bring a black shadow over to his friends.  

            After lunch had Mr. Anderson’s History calls.  At first Mr. Anderson protested the idea of a guard in the back of his room, but it soon became apparent that the dark one was not going away.  So, with a bit of sarcasm he let the man in. He instructed the guard, “Stand in the back and maybe you will learn something.” Storm uncharacteristically sat in the front of the room.  Casandra was on the opposite end, again. 

Mr. Anderson launched into his lecture about taking information and processing it in a different manner.  He wrote on the board an historical event.  Then proceeded to tell the story from two different perspectives.  Same even. Two different ways of seeing it.  He then went on to have the kids pull up a historical event on their chips. They would make their selection and then share it with the class.  Once that was done they were going to pick a single event and do the same thing. 

Mr. Anderson then opened his closet that was near the door and acted as if he was trying to remove something.  He rummaged around and even disappeared for a second. Then poked his head back out and looked at Storm, “Could you give me a hand?”  

Storm looked behind him, then realized the Mr. Anderson meant him.  He jumped up and walked towards the closet.  Mr. Anderson addressed the guard, “He’ll be right back and no, there’s no other exits.” The guard hesitated then returned to the back of the room.

Once in the closet Mr. Anderson pointed towards a box in the back on the top shelf.  “I need that brought down, but it’s too heavy for me to do it myself.” Then they walked into the closet.  Once in the closet Mr. Anderson stepped up behind Storm very close. “I know what you did last night.” 

Storm turned around to face him.

Mr. Anderson, “that was stupid, but we erased the footage and they only have the good Doctor’s word, so keep playing dumb.” 

Storm asked, “How?” 

Mr. Anderson answer, “Not now.” He walked over to the box and reached up. When Storm got on the other side.  When he reached up Mr. Anderson said, “I have a chip for you.” 

“What’s on it?” Storm asked.

“Its not whats on it that make is special.  It’s what you can do with it.” Mr. Anderson said. He looked at the door and then pulled it from his pocket.  “Put it in slot C.I.-three.”

Storm took the chip and looked at it, “How do I know this won’t short circuit me?”

“Because we need you.” Mr. Anderson said in a low tone, looking at the door, Move card three to slot seven and make sure you keep it to yourself.”

Storm was a little creeped out.  How did Mr. Anderson know that his seventh slot was empty and why should he trust this man he’d only known for three days.  It’s one thing to pull a security chip, but to be moving around the cranial ones.  That’s part of who you are.  

Mr. Anderson, “You'd better hurry, I’m sure that guard will be checking up on us any second now.”

Storm thought about it for a second or two, then tapped the button just behind his left ear.  The small door opened on his neck, exposing his chip set.  He pushed on the third one and it popped out just far enough to remove it.  He then moved it down dragging the corner so he could tell when he was on the last slot.  He then pushed it back in.  With that done, he put the new chip in sot three using the same procedure, except he started from the top.  Then he closed the flap and reached up to grab his side of the box.  They had just brought it down when the guard poked his head in the door.  

Mr. Anderson acted as if his side was still too heavy and instructed Storm to put the box on the ground, “I’ll just empty this after class.” He then walked out of the closet and spoke to the guard, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Get back to your station or I’ll have the whole lot of these kids through you out of my room.”

The kids like that idea and the smiles on their faces indicated that the guard would be outnumbered really quickly.  Not wanting that, he retreated to his post in the back of the room.  The rest of the class went on as normal.  The exercise was finished Mr. Anderson explained that the same event meant different things to different people.  Mr. Anderson told them that as an individual we see things from a limited perspective, but it’s when we combine our perspectives that we start seeing things as they really are.  There will always be people far to the left or right of an idea, but when we talk and share, we start to see more of a middle place where the majority of the truth lies. Historical events are no different.  We need to see them from different perspectives.  Both looking back and from the perspective of people that lived through it.  It’s only when we can do this that the moment becomes alive and not just a date, place or cold fact.

Quiet alarms started to chime and students started to get out of their seats, Mr. Anderson’s voice rose, “We’re moving on to World War three tomorrow, so I want to you to review the events from twenty thirty-seven through twenty forty-five and pay particular attention to which corporations over through which governments.” with that the kids left in an orderly single file manner.  Storm waited until most of the kids were gone so that his guard didn’t have to hunt him down.  Storm had already played that game twice and it was getting boring.  Two more classes and then they went home.  Storm had all but forgotten about the pad issue and was wondering what his new chip had on it.  He didn’t want to access it until he was in his room, behind a locked door. On his way down the crowded corridors that led to the lifts and access ways to other parts of the city, Storm saw Casandra watching.  Knowing that she couldn’t talk to him, but wanting to. She stayed in the shadows hoping for a moment.  But the guard stayed close and there was no way for them to pass a message.  Storm looked at the lift that would take him back up to the seventh floor and then back where Casandra was standing.  She was gone.  Now, he knew that he loved her because there was a whole in his life.  A whole that she had filled.  But it was too dangerous for her to be near him.  

Once back at the apartment the argument over the pad was short and explosive.  Storm’s father was furious with him.  And his lie about someone stealing it and replacing it with the bank one didn’t go over well either.  Storms father swore he would have a guard on him from now until he produced the real pad and for once Storm told the truth. He really didn’t know where it was.  

A two days turned into a week.  The guards escorted Storm everywhere he went.  He tried a tactic of making friends, but they didn’t seem interested.  Once while in the bathroom he thought he heard Casandra talking to the guard just outside the door.  But when he came out, she wasn’t there.  And when Storm went into the cafeteria for lunch, well he sat alone with his guard at his back.  Storm felt truly alone. By Saturday he was ready to confess to being at the telescope.  The only problem with this plan is that his father would want the pad and he didn’t have it.  And he wasn’t going to implicate Casandra no matter how bad it got.  

Suddenly there was an audible beep.  But it wasn’t coming from the room. Then it went off again.  Storm thought about the beep and a cursor showed up in his field of view.  A word started to form. “Hello” 

Just by thinking about it, Storm moved the cursor and typed “Who is this?” 

The words “Mr. Anderson” formed.

Storm typied, “I think I’m going to need some proof.  And how are you doing this?” 

Words formed, “I gave you the chip and you moved chip 3 to slot 7. And the box wasn’t heavy.” 

That proved it.  The box he needed help with was not heavy and they had to act as if it was.  So, the person typing was Mr. Anderson.  Now, all he needed to know was how were they communicating. Storm Typed, “And how are you communicating with me.”

“We will share that in due time.” 

Great.  Storm typed, “So, now what?”

“Monday, when you get to school, you will be called down to the office.  Someone has turned in your pad and they want to give it back.” 

“How?”

“We had a backup.” 

“Oh”

“Don’t worry, we remove the cartoons and caricature that you drew, of your father on the toilet.  We also added some interesting articles on politics and governing the people.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to become a model citizen.”

“Uh, no.”

“We need you free to roam about the city again.”

“Who is WE?”

“In due time.  First you need to get rid of your guards by gaining your father’s trust.”

“Not going to happen.”

“Yes it will.  I’ll help.”

“Why?” 

“So we can go back to Earth.”

  That was the first of many conversations.  Via Mr. Anderson, Storm learned that Casandra’s apartment was ransacked.  Her mother was thrown in jail for having bootleg alcohol and that her scholarship was being revoked.  So, despite his best efforts he cost her everything she cared about.  And now, she was doomed to the lower levels.  Storm cried himself to sleep that night.  He was stuck in his world and now she was stuck in the one below.  By morning he hated his father and knew that the only way to hurt him back was to be what his father wanted only to betray him.  

With that resolved in his mind he turned to the other thing that bugged him, Mr. Anderson.  What did he want from a politician’s kid?  And who is this “we” he keeps talking about?  He needed to make sure that whatever he did for these people, that he had a way out. 

So, for the next few mornings Storm started acting nicer, not all at once.  He needed his father to thing that he was getting through to his son.  So, it was little things, like toning down the sarcasm and not looking for ways to embarrass him in front of others. He started dressing nicer and with colors other than grey or black. Mr. Anderson helped him transition slowly.  But Storm still seethed every time his father gave him a compliment.  He hated being a pretender.

The upside was that his grades improved.  He joined the Young Republics and actually made a friend. His old life started to melt away and he thought less and less of Casandra or that night that changed both their lives.  By mid-term he no longer had his guards and was able to move about on his own.  He thought about looking for Casandra, but if he went below his father might bring the guards back.  No.  He was going to play the good son and wait.  Besides, he had done enough to screw up her life while being foolish, he didn’t want to bring anything else down on her.  Before he knew it, he was a senior and was graduating in the top ten percent of his class. He had a degree in business and political science.  

Mr. Anderson was at his graduation.  He gave him a present.  

“What’s this.” Storm asked as he embarrassed his old professor.

“An upgrade.” Mr. Anderson said in his ear. “Like before, slot three.”

They separated, “Oh, the old one will..” Mr. Anderson moved his hand upward and spread his fingers.  

“I see.” Was all Storm said.  It made since.  They certainly didn’t want them to fall into the wrong hands.  

As a graduation present his father bought him a two-month cruise.  It was more of a two-month alcoholic induced frolic that snaked through the local rocks and ended up with a great view of Jupiter.  Then it would be back to look at job prospects and interviews.  Storm could not believe that he was here.  A man.  Not the man he thought he would be, but not bad.  Mr. Anderson used to say that kids weren’t smart enough to know what they didn’t know yet.  That statement made no sense two years ago.  Now, standing in front of Jupiter he realized just how much of this universe he knew nothing about.  Statistics did not do it justice. 

R.A. Legg
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