Chapter 10
DaGama shuttle Oeiras
28-29 June, 2787
The two assault shuttles under Vasconcellos' command, Oeiras and Caxias, lifted cleanly from the small base tucked away in the system's asteroid belt and settled on an appropriate vector for their intercept of Pathfinder's current track. Acceleration was kept low, less than 50 g, in order to keep their target from knowing they were there for as long as could be managed. Once they approached too closely and were spotted there would be no disengaging. Their best hope of success could be found in delaying that moment for as long as possible.
Vasconcellos settled himself into the proper mental track as easily as he had directed the ships. This was yet another example of the military's "hurry up and wait". It was so familiar by now that he couldn't imagine life being any other way. As always, he used the wait time to prepare himself for all of the things that might or might not happen during those hectic hurry up moments. At this velocity, he would have plenty of opportunity to prepare.
He ran through the status of all of the shuttles' systems, marking each green light off his mental checklist. He called his noncoms for each squad's readiness. He ran a passive scan of Pathfinder and found that it had not altered course.
Those items cleared from his task list, he went through the plan of attack step by step, looking for potential problems, as he had many dozens of times already. The two shuttles he commanded were headed, not for a direct rendezvous with their objective, but for a point well behind it. There was no possibility of getting within striking distance while approaching broadside. Instead, phase one of the plan would have them limit their emissions while moving behind Pathfinder and then use the interference of the larger vessel's engines to mask their attack run.
Once in position, phase two was to disarm the ship. The first difficulty to overcome would be the two chase missile tubes. Each of the shuttles would target one of them, and hold fire until either it was clear they had been spotted or they were within 10,000 km, whichever came first. The same distortion which would mask their presence would create problems with accurately targeting their tubes, but the benefit of using high-powered lasers was that you could hit whatever you could see.
Vasconcellos hoped to close with their wounded prey quickly at that point. He was not expecting to make it without any return fire coming his way, of course. Only a fool expects his enemy to make his life easy for him, or that every break will fall his way in an engagement. The best you could do was to prepare for the worst and hope to be pleasantly surprised.
The worst that could happen was for Pathfinder to react immediately to the attack, turn to face them and open up with their three remaining missile tubes and single laser mount. Even then, it would be close to a fair fight. The two shuttles had two lasers and four tubes a bit smaller than the enemy's between them. Still, evading a counterattack would be difficult at such short range.
They would have surprise of their side, as long as they could successfully sneak into position without being spotted. The shock of the unexpected attack should be sufficient to slow their response by as much as a minute or more. That much time would allow them to destroy the remainder of the target's offensive weapons before they could be brought to bear.
Once the external defenses were dispatched, phase three was to board and take the ship. Caxias' marines would board through the boat bay, with ready access to Engineering, while Vasconcellos and Oeiras would enter directly behind and above Pathfinder's bridge. The assault shuttles were designed for just this kind of boarding. Each would seal itself to the outer hull of the target, then use controlled plasma bursts to create a sizeable entrance.
Once inside, the four squads of marines in battle armor should find little resistance. Data from their source claimed there were only three security personnel aboard Pathfinder. It took fifteen minutes for a top-notch and motivated soldier to don protective gear. Vasconcellos didn't plan to allow them that much time. That left the crew of swabbies, which would be no threat at all.
His mind at rest, the lieutenant decided to work on the second most important preparation for the coming conflict. He went to sleep.
"Lieutenant, you'd best take a look at this." The words were not spoken loudly, but it immediately brought his mind back into focus. A quick glance at the chrono showed that he had at least managed a few hours of sack time.
"What is it, Mark?"
"Passives are returning two signals now. Looks like Pathfinder sent Vanguard out to survey on its own." Second Lieutenant Cinquini, First Platoon's leader, did not look the least bit pleased. Vasconcellos felt much the same.
This was not an eventuality that had been considered in their planning or training. They could not capture either of the ships and leave the other active to raise the alarm, and they did not have the ships and men to take them both at the same time. He was going to have to contact the base for new orders. He hated to do that. Especially when the smart money said Agostinho was going to scrub the whole op. He had no choice, though. This scenario was not covered in the current plan, and his orders did not allow for this much discretion in forming a new plan on his own.
"Fire up the directional comms, Mark. We need to take this up with the Old Lady."
"Yes, sir." He still didn't sound happy.
When he got the commander on the horn, she didn't either.
"Well, there goes six weeks of planning straight down the toilet!" was probably the mildest thing she had to say on the subject. After the initial venting, though, she was quiet for some time. Vasconcellos could tell she was percolating a new idea, so he also said nothing and waited.
"Where is Vanguard headed, Lieutenant?"
Vasconcellos checked the plot on the tactical display and saw that the ship in question was currently decelerating hard to approach the third planet on this side of the system. He passed that information on.
"Perfect!" Vasconcellos could hear the grin in her voice.
"How so, m'am?"
"One of the big worries about our plan was that it might backfire on us. Instead of making sure we guaranteed our share of the prize, we could have made Forrest so pissed off that we went to war over it.
"Opportunity may be knocking, Steve. With the two ships separated, we can take Vanguard, and leave Pathfinder for Forrest to scoop up. We get our hands on the new technology without the need for conflict with Forrest. In fact, if we do it right, Forrest never even needs to know."
Vasconcellos could see the truth in that, once it was pointed out. He liked the new objective better for selfish reasons as well. With a smaller ship, fewer crew, and no armaments, taking Vanguard would involve much less risk for him and his team.
"All right, what is the right way to do it?" he asked.
"Can you make it to the planet before they get there?"
"No, ma'am. Not without being spotted. If we alter course now and keep our accel under the detection threshold, we're still…thirty-eight hours from planetfall," he said, reading off the numbers the comm sergeant held up for him. Onboard a ship was not his natural environment, and the complex physics involved in calculating trajectories was not in his line of work. He was the proverbial ground-pounder, and proud of it.
"Okay, I think your best bet would be to pose as the terraforming team we cleaned out of the system. Get them to let their guard down and then make your move. You may not be able to be believable if they get to the terraformer's encampment before you do, in which case, make the best tactical assault you can, given the circumstances."
"Understood, ma'am. Vasconcellos clear." He keyed the system off, then headed out to the main cabin.
"All right, you apes, listen hard. As is usual, the other side is not acting like we told them to, so there's been a change of plan…"
29 September, 2010
22 September, 2010
What is Science-Fiction?
I came across a blog post by Graham Storrs today which prompted a little bit of self evaluation. You can read the full post here.
He says: “…great science fiction involves stories about ourselves and what it means to be human, that confronts us with the question, “Is this really who we are?” It also presents plausible alternatives to the world we know, alternatives which compel the people in them to reveal their nature because of how they challenge us to adapt to them, and which compel the reader to ask that publisher’s question, “Is this really what we want for ourselves?’”
His post tackles the question of what constitutes great science fiction. In it, he states that he had been reading a blog post by Mike Brotherton, which presented yet another attempt to define science fiction, and that post spurred further thought and analysis on his part. Mike’s post is here.
In it, he claims: “There’s a school of thought that says that science fiction is just a label that marketers put on the spine of a book, regardless of what is inside, and that something I’d call science fiction gets put into a different section if the author is Stephen King, Michael Crichton, or Margaret Atwood.”
His definition of science fiction is this: “Science fiction is a kind of story in which science or technology plays a central role, both in terms of plot and theme, and the science or technology elements are beyond our current knowledge or capabilities (without violating what we already know), permitting the exploration of novel ideas and the reaction of humanity to them.”
I think I like Mike’s definition is more closely aligned with my own. Graham has a very broad view of the genre, one which could be spread far enough to include just about everything written. All books, from Diary of a Wimpy Kid to The Count of Monte Cristo are about “ourselves and what it means to be human.” Any book worth its salt will make the reader ask questions such as those he mentions.
For me, even though the human element is one of the most important pieces of a well-written science-fiction book, I think it is the crucial element in any book, and not what distinguishes science-fiction as a genre. The ingredient for me which means that a work lands in the sci-fi bin is the setting in which it is placed. That environment needs to be notably different from the world around us, and the difference caused by a level of technology which we have not (yet) achieved.
For example, I still feel like the early books in The Dragonriders of Pern series are works of fantasy. The people in the stories; Lessa, F’lar, Menolly, and even Ramoth and Mnementh; live a very low-tech life and the enemy they fight and the tools they use to fight them are equally rudimentary. Later books, though, have dramatically shifted the genre to be science fiction. It turns out that the ancestors of those people had colonized from Earth in great starships. The dragons were genetically modified from indigenous animals. A giant computer is discovered which helps them regain their lost level of technology.
That the later books change the history of the earlier books does not make the earlier books science fiction because the setting of the earlier books, the environment in which they live and work, has not changed.
Anyway, that’s what I think. Feel free to leave me a comment and disagree.
He says: “…great science fiction involves stories about ourselves and what it means to be human, that confronts us with the question, “Is this really who we are?” It also presents plausible alternatives to the world we know, alternatives which compel the people in them to reveal their nature because of how they challenge us to adapt to them, and which compel the reader to ask that publisher’s question, “Is this really what we want for ourselves?’”
His post tackles the question of what constitutes great science fiction. In it, he states that he had been reading a blog post by Mike Brotherton, which presented yet another attempt to define science fiction, and that post spurred further thought and analysis on his part. Mike’s post is here.
In it, he claims: “There’s a school of thought that says that science fiction is just a label that marketers put on the spine of a book, regardless of what is inside, and that something I’d call science fiction gets put into a different section if the author is Stephen King, Michael Crichton, or Margaret Atwood.”
His definition of science fiction is this: “Science fiction is a kind of story in which science or technology plays a central role, both in terms of plot and theme, and the science or technology elements are beyond our current knowledge or capabilities (without violating what we already know), permitting the exploration of novel ideas and the reaction of humanity to them.”
I think I like Mike’s definition is more closely aligned with my own. Graham has a very broad view of the genre, one which could be spread far enough to include just about everything written. All books, from Diary of a Wimpy Kid to The Count of Monte Cristo are about “ourselves and what it means to be human.” Any book worth its salt will make the reader ask questions such as those he mentions.
For me, even though the human element is one of the most important pieces of a well-written science-fiction book, I think it is the crucial element in any book, and not what distinguishes science-fiction as a genre. The ingredient for me which means that a work lands in the sci-fi bin is the setting in which it is placed. That environment needs to be notably different from the world around us, and the difference caused by a level of technology which we have not (yet) achieved.
For example, I still feel like the early books in The Dragonriders of Pern series are works of fantasy. The people in the stories; Lessa, F’lar, Menolly, and even Ramoth and Mnementh; live a very low-tech life and the enemy they fight and the tools they use to fight them are equally rudimentary. Later books, though, have dramatically shifted the genre to be science fiction. It turns out that the ancestors of those people had colonized from Earth in great starships. The dragons were genetically modified from indigenous animals. A giant computer is discovered which helps them regain their lost level of technology.
That the later books change the history of the earlier books does not make the earlier books science fiction because the setting of the earlier books, the environment in which they live and work, has not changed.
Anyway, that’s what I think. Feel free to leave me a comment and disagree.
Day Twenty-eight: Friday, 6 August, 2010
I didn’t sleep much better this morning. I had gotten in the habit of getting up around 6:00 am while at the Jamboree, which meant I woke up on my own at 5:00 am, local time. By 6:00, I had given up trying to get back to sleep and just got up and started moving.
The hotel shuttle took me back to George Bush International, which was a good 25 minute drive. I checked my bag in (they fortunately did not charge me the bag check fee a second time) and headed into the main terminal.
IAH is huge. I mean, really, really big. It has 5 terminals, with 61 restaurants of various sizes and descriptions, 83 retail stores, and 9 Starbucks. There’s even a Marriott between terminals A and B. Part of this makes sense to me. I mean, it is convenient to pick up a few items while you’re travelling, and a good hot meal while you’re waiting is always welcome. Most of it does not, however. There’s an entire mall inside there, and a giant mall at that. Yet you have to be a ticketed passenger who has gone through a security checkpoint to get at all of it. Craziness.
The ticketing agent I had spoken with the night before told me that there was a chance I could get on an earlier flight, so I went to the gate where the first flight would be leaving from. The agent there told me that it would be impossible to fly out early because I had already checked my bag and I had to be on the same flight as it was.
Well that made life simpler; all I had to do then was wait. And wait. I got some lunch. I ate dinner. Then I finally got on my plane and flew home.
When I arrived, my bag never came through on the carrousel. It was locked up in a storage area because it had flown to Portland on the first flight of the day instead.
Figures.
Anyway, it’s great to be home! Brian’s flight was delayed again, and he arrived a couple of hours after me. He spent the night in Atlanta, but he is also home safe now.
All is well.
The hotel shuttle took me back to George Bush International, which was a good 25 minute drive. I checked my bag in (they fortunately did not charge me the bag check fee a second time) and headed into the main terminal.
IAH is huge. I mean, really, really big. It has 5 terminals, with 61 restaurants of various sizes and descriptions, 83 retail stores, and 9 Starbucks. There’s even a Marriott between terminals A and B. Part of this makes sense to me. I mean, it is convenient to pick up a few items while you’re travelling, and a good hot meal while you’re waiting is always welcome. Most of it does not, however. There’s an entire mall inside there, and a giant mall at that. Yet you have to be a ticketed passenger who has gone through a security checkpoint to get at all of it. Craziness.
The ticketing agent I had spoken with the night before told me that there was a chance I could get on an earlier flight, so I went to the gate where the first flight would be leaving from. The agent there told me that it would be impossible to fly out early because I had already checked my bag and I had to be on the same flight as it was.
Well that made life simpler; all I had to do then was wait. And wait. I got some lunch. I ate dinner. Then I finally got on my plane and flew home.
When I arrived, my bag never came through on the carrousel. It was locked up in a storage area because it had flown to Portland on the first flight of the day instead.
Figures.
Anyway, it’s great to be home! Brian’s flight was delayed again, and he arrived a couple of hours after me. He spent the night in Atlanta, but he is also home safe now.
All is well.
05 August, 2010
Day Twenty-seven: Thursday, 5 August, 2010
I didn’t sleep very much last night. It was probably a combination of things that was responsible. First, I got a little bit of a nap, so I didn’t drop immediately to sleep when I lay down, like I am used to. Not falling right asleep, I started worrying about what would happen if I overslept. Since I was slated for the last shuttle out, probably nothing good. It would have cost around $150 for a taxi to Richmond. Then, of course there was the chainsaw snorer in the bunk above mine. Whatever the reason, I didn’t get more than twenty consecutive minutes of sleep all night.
At quarter to five, I’d had enough and just got up and got dressed. I walked down to the dining hall, where all they had today was donuts and coffee. Neither one appealed to me, so I went back and finished packing up and headed for the bus that would take me to the shuttle bus.
The bus to the bus rolled out right on time at 6:00 am. The 8:00 shuttle to the Richmond airport filled up and left at 6:42 am, and the one behind it in line started filling up.
We disembarked at the airport just before 8 am, and I went past the check in area without ever seeing it. I was not the only one either. A whole group of us got to the security line still holding the bags we wanted to check and had to get directions back.
After I checked in my big heavy bag (it weighed in at 38 pounds; I had worried a little about if it was over the 50# limit, and had considered leaving some things behind; glad I didn’t), I found myself with almost 10 hours before my flight left.
So I left the airport and walked to the Virginia Aviation Museum that I had seen just before we arrived. It had an SR-71 parked in front, which was a big attraction for me. After I took pictures, I discovered that the museum didn’t open until 9:30.
I wondered for a while what to do next. I could see a couple of restaurants and 3 motels across the road, and my first instinct was to find a place to sit down and use someone’s free wi-fi to post my blog entries. When I said ‘across the road’ though, what I meant was across a road and two divided highways and three drainage ditches. I tried walking parallel for a while, in search of a crosswalk, but after four blocks, I gave that up as unproductive. The traffic wasn’t that heavy, and it was actually more difficult crossing the ditches without getting wet than crossing the highways.
Aunt Sarah’s Pancake House seemed the most promising of those I walked by, so I doubled back to it. They served a delicious mushroom and Monterrey jack omelette, but didn’t have wi-fi. I wasn’t really hungry, but I didn’t have any problem finishing either.
By the time the bill came and I settled up, the museum was open, so I headed back across the obstacle course. I’d say I did it without getting wet, but the grass was still damp from the overnight thunderstorms.
The museum was not very large, but it had a lot of history packed inside. I very much enjoyed the almost two hours I spent there.
I hiked back into the terminal and through security. Fortunately, the airport didn’t seem to be that busy. I remembered to disconnect my insulin pump and tuck it into my coat before I went through the line. This saved me from the dreaded, “Please step to one side, sir,” comments, along with the accompanying wanding and frisking. I usually forget until too late.
I sat at my gate a little after noon, along with six others from the Jamboree staff, who had a wait of at least a couple more hours. My flight doesn’t start boarding until 5:35 pm. But, I did determine that RIC has free wi-fi, so it is now time to update the blog again.
Clearly, the fates are conspiring against me. We started hearing announcements before three that Dulles was rerouting planes to Richmond because of thunderstorms. They arrived here just before 6. If our plane from Houston had arrived on time, I’m sure we could have made it out ahead of the storm, but it didn’t and we didn’t. Once there was lightning in the area, we couldn’t board the plane, nor would they fuel it up, so we didn’t get off the ground until well after 8:00. The flight was two hours late getting to Houston, and so I missed my connection.
I stood in line at the service desk trying to figure out how I’m going to get home. They booked me on the same flight tomorrow, departing at 8:50 pm. They gave me a discount coupon for a local hotel, and recommended I come back tomorrow. When I asked about getting my checked bag so I would have clean clothes, they said it would take a couple of hours for it to come by on the carousel, because they only had one guy still working in baggage.
!?!
So another passenger and I sat and waited and waited in the baggage claim area. Finally I saw there was a baggage office and I went in to ask how long it would take for our bags to show up. They said there wasn’t anyone still working in terminal B. I could go over to terminal C and see if maybe they could find it for me.
So I did. It was a long time coming. Then I called the hotel they recommended and had them send me a shuttle to pick me up. By the time I checked in, got ready for bed, and updated the old blog, it was 3 am.
At least this time I can sleep in without a 5:30 round of alarms.
At quarter to five, I’d had enough and just got up and got dressed. I walked down to the dining hall, where all they had today was donuts and coffee. Neither one appealed to me, so I went back and finished packing up and headed for the bus that would take me to the shuttle bus.
The bus to the bus rolled out right on time at 6:00 am. The 8:00 shuttle to the Richmond airport filled up and left at 6:42 am, and the one behind it in line started filling up.
We disembarked at the airport just before 8 am, and I went past the check in area without ever seeing it. I was not the only one either. A whole group of us got to the security line still holding the bags we wanted to check and had to get directions back.
After I checked in my big heavy bag (it weighed in at 38 pounds; I had worried a little about if it was over the 50# limit, and had considered leaving some things behind; glad I didn’t), I found myself with almost 10 hours before my flight left.
So I left the airport and walked to the Virginia Aviation Museum that I had seen just before we arrived. It had an SR-71 parked in front, which was a big attraction for me. After I took pictures, I discovered that the museum didn’t open until 9:30.
I wondered for a while what to do next. I could see a couple of restaurants and 3 motels across the road, and my first instinct was to find a place to sit down and use someone’s free wi-fi to post my blog entries. When I said ‘across the road’ though, what I meant was across a road and two divided highways and three drainage ditches. I tried walking parallel for a while, in search of a crosswalk, but after four blocks, I gave that up as unproductive. The traffic wasn’t that heavy, and it was actually more difficult crossing the ditches without getting wet than crossing the highways.
Aunt Sarah’s Pancake House seemed the most promising of those I walked by, so I doubled back to it. They served a delicious mushroom and Monterrey jack omelette, but didn’t have wi-fi. I wasn’t really hungry, but I didn’t have any problem finishing either.
By the time the bill came and I settled up, the museum was open, so I headed back across the obstacle course. I’d say I did it without getting wet, but the grass was still damp from the overnight thunderstorms.
The museum was not very large, but it had a lot of history packed inside. I very much enjoyed the almost two hours I spent there.
I hiked back into the terminal and through security. Fortunately, the airport didn’t seem to be that busy. I remembered to disconnect my insulin pump and tuck it into my coat before I went through the line. This saved me from the dreaded, “Please step to one side, sir,” comments, along with the accompanying wanding and frisking. I usually forget until too late.
I sat at my gate a little after noon, along with six others from the Jamboree staff, who had a wait of at least a couple more hours. My flight doesn’t start boarding until 5:35 pm. But, I did determine that RIC has free wi-fi, so it is now time to update the blog again.
Clearly, the fates are conspiring against me. We started hearing announcements before three that Dulles was rerouting planes to Richmond because of thunderstorms. They arrived here just before 6. If our plane from Houston had arrived on time, I’m sure we could have made it out ahead of the storm, but it didn’t and we didn’t. Once there was lightning in the area, we couldn’t board the plane, nor would they fuel it up, so we didn’t get off the ground until well after 8:00. The flight was two hours late getting to Houston, and so I missed my connection.
I stood in line at the service desk trying to figure out how I’m going to get home. They booked me on the same flight tomorrow, departing at 8:50 pm. They gave me a discount coupon for a local hotel, and recommended I come back tomorrow. When I asked about getting my checked bag so I would have clean clothes, they said it would take a couple of hours for it to come by on the carousel, because they only had one guy still working in baggage.
!?!
So another passenger and I sat and waited and waited in the baggage claim area. Finally I saw there was a baggage office and I went in to ask how long it would take for our bags to show up. They said there wasn’t anyone still working in terminal B. I could go over to terminal C and see if maybe they could find it for me.
So I did. It was a long time coming. Then I called the hotel they recommended and had them send me a shuttle to pick me up. By the time I checked in, got ready for bed, and updated the old blog, it was 3 am.
At least this time I can sleep in without a 5:30 round of alarms.
Day Twenty-six: Wednesday, 4 August, 2010
Last night I had enough extra time to head over to the patch trading area and did a little trading. I would have felt bad if I had returned home with all of my own patches, so at least there was a silver lining to my having to wait.
It did rain last night also. No word on whether Brian stuck to his plan to sleep tentless or not. I heard that many of the scoutmasters were given about forty minutes notice in the middle of the night, but I don’t know how pervasive that warning was. I suppose I’ll find out when I get home.
Since I had no work to accomplish today and all of the Jamboree attractions were already shut down, I had planned to sleep in. No dice. The first round of alarms went off at 5:30, and the next at 6, and that was the end of that idea. I got in line for breakfast, asked for a little of everything, and walked away with a heaping plate. They must be trying to get rid of all the food they can. I couldn’t finish more than a third of what they gave me.
After that, I decided to do laundry. I had one more set of clean clothes to wear, but I had nothing better to do with my time. Besides, with all the sweating I’d been doing in this muggy heat, my duffel bag didn’t smell very nice. I finished that up in time for lunch, and then helped others carry stuff out to their cars and load up. The roads were reserved for departing scout troops until 2:00, but then there was a mass exodus from the staff area.
They came to lock up the building I had been sleeping in shortly after that. I had to move to the last building open. Men on the second floor, women on the first. At least I have a lower bunk now.
I tried taking a nap, since tomorrow will be an early start. I got a little bit of sleep, but it was frequently interrupted.
They served salmon for dinner. It was yummy.
After dinner, I showered, packed everything back except what I’ll wear tomorrow, called Pam, updated the blog, and went to bed. Well, I can’t post it yet, but at least it’s written.
It did rain last night also. No word on whether Brian stuck to his plan to sleep tentless or not. I heard that many of the scoutmasters were given about forty minutes notice in the middle of the night, but I don’t know how pervasive that warning was. I suppose I’ll find out when I get home.
Since I had no work to accomplish today and all of the Jamboree attractions were already shut down, I had planned to sleep in. No dice. The first round of alarms went off at 5:30, and the next at 6, and that was the end of that idea. I got in line for breakfast, asked for a little of everything, and walked away with a heaping plate. They must be trying to get rid of all the food they can. I couldn’t finish more than a third of what they gave me.
After that, I decided to do laundry. I had one more set of clean clothes to wear, but I had nothing better to do with my time. Besides, with all the sweating I’d been doing in this muggy heat, my duffel bag didn’t smell very nice. I finished that up in time for lunch, and then helped others carry stuff out to their cars and load up. The roads were reserved for departing scout troops until 2:00, but then there was a mass exodus from the staff area.
They came to lock up the building I had been sleeping in shortly after that. I had to move to the last building open. Men on the second floor, women on the first. At least I have a lower bunk now.
I tried taking a nap, since tomorrow will be an early start. I got a little bit of sleep, but it was frequently interrupted.
They served salmon for dinner. It was yummy.
After dinner, I showered, packed everything back except what I’ll wear tomorrow, called Pam, updated the blog, and went to bed. Well, I can’t post it yet, but at least it’s written.
Day Twenty-five: Tuesday, 3 August, 2010
Happy birthday, Mark! You too, Gienah and Taunia!
Today, the Jamboree is winding down. This morning was our last ticketed session. Brian came in for a few minutes. He was in the area because Shawn White, Olympic snowboarder, was visiting the mountain boarding area today. I asked him if he was going to make it out to the midway and finish his engineering badge, but he didn’t think he would. He was planning to head back to camp and pack everything up, including his tent, and sleep out under the stars tonight.
After lunch, we started taking apart and packing up all the things we had spent three or four days putting together. The schedule called for us to spend a day and a half at the task. We were done by 4:00, with all the semis and trucks of vendor equipment rolling away or already gone.
By the time I got back to Wilcox, I realized that I had nothing at all to do tomorrow, and that it might be possible to go home a day early. I was scheduled to leave the fort on the 8:00 am shuttle Thursday, and fly out of Richmond Thursday evening.
First, I checked the shuttle schedule. There were departures for the three nearest airports at 12 and 2 tomorrow, and at 6 and 8 Thursday. Then I called the airline. Several times I got a recording that due to heavy call volume they were unable to answer my call, click. Eventually, I got through, gave Brooklyn my flight numbers and asked if I could move my itinerary up one day. She said that she could get me a seat on a flight leaving at 12:55 pm tomorrow, but everything else was already full. I told her thanks, but that I wouldn’t be able to make it there that early.
I asked a few of the people I knew in the barracks if any of them were headed south and had an extra seat, but I wasn’t able to find one.
I called Pam to let her know that I had thought I could make it home early, but I wasn’t able to make it work. She said it sounded like I had exhausted all my possibilities. I told her all but one, then I set the phone down and shouted down the length of the barracks asking if anyone was headed south and had an extra space in their car. Miraculously, I got a taker!
So I told Pam goodbye and that I’d see her tomorrow, hung up, and started throwing my stuff into my bag. I was trying to get the airline back on the phone the whole time I packed. Still on hold while I loaded my things into Jim’s truck. On hold the whole time I checked out with the housing office/tent. I got through just about the time we pulled out of the Wilcox camp area.
The girl I spoke to got everything sorted out for me and filled me in on details that Brooklyn hadn’t given me. The flight at 12:55 went to PDX, but routed through Newark instead of Houston. It would land in Portland at 10 pm instead of the 11 pm arrival of my original flight. I said that would be fine. Then she told me that there would be a $150 charge for reticketing, and the difference in fare would be $943.
Jim was very nice about turning around and dropping me off at Wilcox again.
Today, the Jamboree is winding down. This morning was our last ticketed session. Brian came in for a few minutes. He was in the area because Shawn White, Olympic snowboarder, was visiting the mountain boarding area today. I asked him if he was going to make it out to the midway and finish his engineering badge, but he didn’t think he would. He was planning to head back to camp and pack everything up, including his tent, and sleep out under the stars tonight.
After lunch, we started taking apart and packing up all the things we had spent three or four days putting together. The schedule called for us to spend a day and a half at the task. We were done by 4:00, with all the semis and trucks of vendor equipment rolling away or already gone.
By the time I got back to Wilcox, I realized that I had nothing at all to do tomorrow, and that it might be possible to go home a day early. I was scheduled to leave the fort on the 8:00 am shuttle Thursday, and fly out of Richmond Thursday evening.
First, I checked the shuttle schedule. There were departures for the three nearest airports at 12 and 2 tomorrow, and at 6 and 8 Thursday. Then I called the airline. Several times I got a recording that due to heavy call volume they were unable to answer my call, click. Eventually, I got through, gave Brooklyn my flight numbers and asked if I could move my itinerary up one day. She said that she could get me a seat on a flight leaving at 12:55 pm tomorrow, but everything else was already full. I told her thanks, but that I wouldn’t be able to make it there that early.
I asked a few of the people I knew in the barracks if any of them were headed south and had an extra seat, but I wasn’t able to find one.
I called Pam to let her know that I had thought I could make it home early, but I wasn’t able to make it work. She said it sounded like I had exhausted all my possibilities. I told her all but one, then I set the phone down and shouted down the length of the barracks asking if anyone was headed south and had an extra space in their car. Miraculously, I got a taker!
So I told Pam goodbye and that I’d see her tomorrow, hung up, and started throwing my stuff into my bag. I was trying to get the airline back on the phone the whole time I packed. Still on hold while I loaded my things into Jim’s truck. On hold the whole time I checked out with the housing office/tent. I got through just about the time we pulled out of the Wilcox camp area.
The girl I spoke to got everything sorted out for me and filled me in on details that Brooklyn hadn’t given me. The flight at 12:55 went to PDX, but routed through Newark instead of Houston. It would land in Portland at 10 pm instead of the 11 pm arrival of my original flight. I said that would be fine. Then she told me that there would be a $150 charge for reticketing, and the difference in fare would be $943.
Jim was very nice about turning around and dropping me off at Wilcox again.
Day Twenty-four: Monday, 2 August, 2010
Today was the last full day of jamboree activities for us. The way they worked admission to the Tech Quest area was to provide tickets by subcamp for either the morning or afternoon of a particular day, and that was when you were supposed to go. The plan was to have 2,900 scouts in each session. Of course, plans have to change. They then said that anyone could enter the last hour of each session, from 11 to 12 and from 3 to 4. Not satisfied with that, they then extended the afternoon shifts until 5.
We stayed busy.
Anyway, this morning was the session that Brian’s troop came through. I got to work with him in the DNA area, and then I lost track of him as he wandered through the other areas. He did tell me that the 60-second liquid nitrogen ice cream was yummy. The guys from Michigan Tech making it have gotten a little impatient a couple of times and made a mess. If they pour too much LN2 in at a time, which expands as it warms up, they get exploding ice cream all over. This happened at least twice.
Michigan Tech also has some displays on harmonics, a trench of ooblech (of Dr. Seuss fame), a vacuum ping pong ball gun, a miniature hovercraft built from two leaf blowers, and a couple of other hands-on physics displays.
I did a little bit of patch trading after work. I brought a couple dozen patches from our council to the Jamboree, in order to trade with people from all over, but up to now it has been kind of hit and miss. Mostly, I’ve traded with anyone who has asked me, but I haven’t gone out of my way to ask people if they want to trade. So far, I have 20 new patches to add to my collection.
That’s about all the news from Fort A. P. Hill for today.
We stayed busy.
Anyway, this morning was the session that Brian’s troop came through. I got to work with him in the DNA area, and then I lost track of him as he wandered through the other areas. He did tell me that the 60-second liquid nitrogen ice cream was yummy. The guys from Michigan Tech making it have gotten a little impatient a couple of times and made a mess. If they pour too much LN2 in at a time, which expands as it warms up, they get exploding ice cream all over. This happened at least twice.
Michigan Tech also has some displays on harmonics, a trench of ooblech (of Dr. Seuss fame), a vacuum ping pong ball gun, a miniature hovercraft built from two leaf blowers, and a couple of other hands-on physics displays.
I did a little bit of patch trading after work. I brought a couple dozen patches from our council to the Jamboree, in order to trade with people from all over, but up to now it has been kind of hit and miss. Mostly, I’ve traded with anyone who has asked me, but I haven’t gone out of my way to ask people if they want to trade. So far, I have 20 new patches to add to my collection.
That’s about all the news from Fort A. P. Hill for today.
Day Twenty-three: Sunday, 1 August, 2010
I expected a struggle to get things moving this morning, but it was just the same as every other morning here in Wilcox. The first round of alarms went off at 5:30, and a few brave souls scrambled for the showers. The second round went off at 6:00, and everyone rolled out of bed, dressed, and headed to the dining hall for breakfast, which was the same as every other morning as well. The invariable menu consisted of eggs, bacon, sausage, and potatoes. Occasionally, they added French toast to those, and once added pancakes. Bulk cereal with milk and orange or apple juice were available in separate lines. Servings were not that large for any of the meals here, either, but I found that it was enough that I wasn’t hungry at all.
Church services were held in the same field as last Sunday, and I saw Frank Van Winkle again. This time I sat with Skip Gaudreau, though, and we saved seats for Brian and Sean Goodey, who were called on to pass the sacrament.
Skip is one of the assistant scoutmasters in Brian's troop. He is also in our ward back home, and he was the individual most responsible for the fact that Brian and I wound up attending the Jamboree.
The meeting was great. A young men’s choir sang “We’ll Bring the World His Truth” and then the only speaker was Elder Robert D. Hales.
I had enough time after the meeting to go back to Wilcox and change before heading back to Technology Quest for the afternoon. Things went normally from there. Work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, call Pam, then bed.
Church services were held in the same field as last Sunday, and I saw Frank Van Winkle again. This time I sat with Skip Gaudreau, though, and we saved seats for Brian and Sean Goodey, who were called on to pass the sacrament.
Skip is one of the assistant scoutmasters in Brian's troop. He is also in our ward back home, and he was the individual most responsible for the fact that Brian and I wound up attending the Jamboree.
The meeting was great. A young men’s choir sang “We’ll Bring the World His Truth” and then the only speaker was Elder Robert D. Hales.
I had enough time after the meeting to go back to Wilcox and change before heading back to Technology Quest for the afternoon. Things went normally from there. Work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, call Pam, then bed.
Day Twenty-two: Saturday, 31 July, 2010
Today was again a half day of work, to allow everyone to attend the “Closing Arena Show,” which takes place days before the Jamboree ends. I don’t understand it, but what the heck, I’m not a scout executive.
So work ended at noon, I was done with lunch by 12:45, at which point I stood in line for a bus. Waiting 45 minutes in a line to cram onto a vehicle with seats set closer together than the distance from my hips to my knees, I really got to appreciate the bus that runs us directly from work to housing, and often is only half full.
I made it back to Wilcox at about 2:15. The show was set to start at 8:00, with a pre-show at 5:30, so I thought I would have a little time to sit down and catch up on my blogging, and maybe get a nap. At 3:00, someone in the barracks who had access to a staff car offered a few of us a ride back to the merit badge midway, just across from the entrance to the arena. Well, that was too good to pass up, so I jumped in.
I should, at this point, apologize to all of you who are trying to keep up with my escapades. Most of the time I have my blog written to within a day or three of the actual date, but finding a wireless network to access is infrequent, and even then, connections drop easily. By the time I get home, though, I will make sure everything gets posted.
So, I made it to the midway by about 4:00, and having nothing better to do, I went in and got the best spot in the house. Well almost. I sat down at the very front of the Western Region section, with an exit aisle right in front of me. I was exactly even with the right edge of the stage, and about 50 yards back. Perfect.
After twenty minutes of wondering if it would rain, one of the crew came along and told me I couldn’t sit there. I asked why not. He said that the staff seating area was over there, in front of stage left. I asked why I couldn’t just stay where I was, as I liked it here. He had no reasons, only orders, and you can’t argue with a man who has no reasons for what he’s doing, so I got up and relocated to the area he had indicated.
I made it twenty-five minutes before the next round. Different guy, same orders: Move farther left where you rebel scum belong, or something like that. I thought hard about rebelling for real, because I liked my new spot even better than the one before. I didn’t of course, wimp that I am.
The third time, though, I was starting to get mad. I stood up with the rest, but instead of walking over to the indicated internment camp, I walked over to another chap who looked like one who gave orders, and might have reasons for doing things. In short, he looked like he had half a brain.
Alas, looks can be deceiving. He called up the food chain and parroted what they told him, assuring me that I would not be asked to move again.
By the fifth time I had to find a new seat, all less desirable than the previous one after the second, I vowed that the next time I was asked to move I would simply ignore them. If that didn’t work, I would refuse, and if they threw me out of the show, it would be worth it.
Fortunately, my resolve wasn’t tested and they left me alone for the final four minutes before the preshow got going.
The preshow was mostly four guys running around and playing games with the audience, remote feeds from gatherings in other spots around the country, and a steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. The band was good.
At 7:45, they played a tape of President Obama congratulating the Boy Scouts on their 100th anniversary. All other presidents that I know of had actually come to the Jamboree to make their address, but he opted not to do the same. The timing was interesting as well; fifteen minutes before the national broadcast began. Either B. H. Obama did not want to be associated with the Boy Scouts and all that they stand for, or else the Boy Scouts did not want to be associated with the president, and all that he stands for. I’m not sure which it was, because I could see reasons for both to be true. Maybe both are.
Once the show got going, it was an amazing, high-energy affair. I have heard that you can watch a replay online at www.ustream.tv/shininglight and, though I haven’t looked myself, I have heard that the pre-show is posted there as well.
We had another jet fighter flyover to kick things off, though I wasn’t warned in advance, and so didn’t look until I heard them. By that time, they were almost gone, so I couldn’t identify them for you. The towers on the stage had giant flames that erupted twenty feet in the air a couple of times. Each time, you could feel the heat, even from as far back as I was. (Actually, I wasn’t all that far back. Maybe a third of the way or less. Mostly, my complaints were that they kept giving me a worse and worse angle on the stage.)
There was a display by the Black Daggers, another military skydiving/paratrooper group that did at least as well as the Golden Knights had. Amazingly precise.
Toward the end, they showed a video of what the Bectel Summit looks like, which will be the site for the 2013 National Jamboree. It does look amazing. In between jamborees it will be a high adventure camp, with whitewater rafting, kayaking, rappelling, mountain climbing, and, if the video was not playing tricks with perspective, a mile-long zip line.
The highlight of the show was the address given by Mike Rowe, the host of the Dirty Jobs TV show. Mike is an Eagle Scout, and he told about how he got started in Boy Scouts. His father decided it would be good for him, so he took him to a troop meeting in the basement of his church. His dad had to throw him out of the car. He said that at that age he was painfully shy and very uncoordinated. The first thing they did at the meeting was to play a game called “Swing the Thing.” This involved everyone forming a circle with one boy in the middle. The center boy held a rope, at the end of which was tied a bag of wet rags. The object of the game is for the boy to swing the weighted rope as fast as he can and for all the boys in the circle to jump over the bag as it goes by. If you mistimed your leap, you’ll get knocked over and you are then eliminated from the game. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to swing the thing for the next round. Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a bloody nose.
“I hadn’t been there five minutes and I had a bloody nose. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When that game was over, they went outside and played “British Bulldog.” In this game, all but one person line up on one side of the field. At the shout of “go,” everyone tries to run to the other side of the field. The one in the middle tries to tackle someone and hold them to the ground long enough to say, “British bulldog,” which means that they’ve been caught and have to then work with other boy to help capture boys when they run back. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to start the next game as the British bulldog.
Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a fat lip for his efforts.
“I hadn’t been there fifteen minutes and I had a bloody nose and a fat lip. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When the meeting started, the scoutmaster made Mike stand in the front and introduce himself to everyone. He was so nervous that he stuttered and stammered his way through it.
When he got home his parents asked him how things had gone, and he frankly told them that he hated it, but he wound up going again the next week, and the week after.
He said it took him a long time to figure out what it was that kept him coming back, and he finally determined that it was because Boy Scouts forces you to do things that make you uncomfortable, and facing those things makes you a better person.
He went on to relate that to his TV show. Dirty Jobs is all about people who perform necessary functions in the world that all of us would be uncomfortable doing.
He finished up by talking about his conundrum with the Scout Law, which declares, among other things, that a Scout is Clean, yet he makes his living doing dirty jobs. Clean is comfortable, and dirty is one of those things that you have to put yourself through to build yourself into someone capable of accomplishing great things. He has finally decided on a new saying, “A Scout is Clean, but he’s not afraid to get Dirty.”
The show had three more bands perform. Honor Society sang two songs, and spent all the time in between letting us know that their songs were available to download from iTunes. Switchfoot, whose name comes from a surfing term, were the headliners, and they sang three of four tunes and walked out into the audience to enormous cheers. Brian says he is a big Switchfoot fan, which surprised me. They’re a little heavier of a rock band than I thought he preferred. He says that Johnathan, a boy he rides bikes with all the time, is a huge fan, and that’s where he heard about them.
I have to admit that they are very talented, but it made me wish I were a little farther back from the three-storey tall speakers. I don’t care if that makes me sound old, I’ve earned my age.
The final performers were an a cappella group called Vocal Point. They were introduced as all Eagle Scouts, and they performed a song called “On My Honor,” which was amazing. I had actually heard of these guys before. They had all been part of BYU’s a cappella group before they graduated.
To finish off the evening, they put on the largest fireworks display ever hosted on a military base. It was impressive, to say the least. At one point, I was looking up as high as I could stretch when I realized that they were shooting off more fireworks behind me and to either side. Like I said, very impressive.
It was quarter to eleven when they wrapped things up and sent us to our beds. Some of the kids had several miles to walk, so I’m sure they had a late evening. I was in bed by one, but decided not to try writing this blog before switching off.
So work ended at noon, I was done with lunch by 12:45, at which point I stood in line for a bus. Waiting 45 minutes in a line to cram onto a vehicle with seats set closer together than the distance from my hips to my knees, I really got to appreciate the bus that runs us directly from work to housing, and often is only half full.
I made it back to Wilcox at about 2:15. The show was set to start at 8:00, with a pre-show at 5:30, so I thought I would have a little time to sit down and catch up on my blogging, and maybe get a nap. At 3:00, someone in the barracks who had access to a staff car offered a few of us a ride back to the merit badge midway, just across from the entrance to the arena. Well, that was too good to pass up, so I jumped in.
I should, at this point, apologize to all of you who are trying to keep up with my escapades. Most of the time I have my blog written to within a day or three of the actual date, but finding a wireless network to access is infrequent, and even then, connections drop easily. By the time I get home, though, I will make sure everything gets posted.
So, I made it to the midway by about 4:00, and having nothing better to do, I went in and got the best spot in the house. Well almost. I sat down at the very front of the Western Region section, with an exit aisle right in front of me. I was exactly even with the right edge of the stage, and about 50 yards back. Perfect.
After twenty minutes of wondering if it would rain, one of the crew came along and told me I couldn’t sit there. I asked why not. He said that the staff seating area was over there, in front of stage left. I asked why I couldn’t just stay where I was, as I liked it here. He had no reasons, only orders, and you can’t argue with a man who has no reasons for what he’s doing, so I got up and relocated to the area he had indicated.
I made it twenty-five minutes before the next round. Different guy, same orders: Move farther left where you rebel scum belong, or something like that. I thought hard about rebelling for real, because I liked my new spot even better than the one before. I didn’t of course, wimp that I am.
The third time, though, I was starting to get mad. I stood up with the rest, but instead of walking over to the indicated internment camp, I walked over to another chap who looked like one who gave orders, and might have reasons for doing things. In short, he looked like he had half a brain.
Alas, looks can be deceiving. He called up the food chain and parroted what they told him, assuring me that I would not be asked to move again.
By the fifth time I had to find a new seat, all less desirable than the previous one after the second, I vowed that the next time I was asked to move I would simply ignore them. If that didn’t work, I would refuse, and if they threw me out of the show, it would be worth it.
Fortunately, my resolve wasn’t tested and they left me alone for the final four minutes before the preshow got going.
The preshow was mostly four guys running around and playing games with the audience, remote feeds from gatherings in other spots around the country, and a steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. The band was good.
At 7:45, they played a tape of President Obama congratulating the Boy Scouts on their 100th anniversary. All other presidents that I know of had actually come to the Jamboree to make their address, but he opted not to do the same. The timing was interesting as well; fifteen minutes before the national broadcast began. Either B. H. Obama did not want to be associated with the Boy Scouts and all that they stand for, or else the Boy Scouts did not want to be associated with the president, and all that he stands for. I’m not sure which it was, because I could see reasons for both to be true. Maybe both are.
Once the show got going, it was an amazing, high-energy affair. I have heard that you can watch a replay online at www.ustream.tv/shininglight and, though I haven’t looked myself, I have heard that the pre-show is posted there as well.
We had another jet fighter flyover to kick things off, though I wasn’t warned in advance, and so didn’t look until I heard them. By that time, they were almost gone, so I couldn’t identify them for you. The towers on the stage had giant flames that erupted twenty feet in the air a couple of times. Each time, you could feel the heat, even from as far back as I was. (Actually, I wasn’t all that far back. Maybe a third of the way or less. Mostly, my complaints were that they kept giving me a worse and worse angle on the stage.)
There was a display by the Black Daggers, another military skydiving/paratrooper group that did at least as well as the Golden Knights had. Amazingly precise.
Toward the end, they showed a video of what the Bectel Summit looks like, which will be the site for the 2013 National Jamboree. It does look amazing. In between jamborees it will be a high adventure camp, with whitewater rafting, kayaking, rappelling, mountain climbing, and, if the video was not playing tricks with perspective, a mile-long zip line.
The highlight of the show was the address given by Mike Rowe, the host of the Dirty Jobs TV show. Mike is an Eagle Scout, and he told about how he got started in Boy Scouts. His father decided it would be good for him, so he took him to a troop meeting in the basement of his church. His dad had to throw him out of the car. He said that at that age he was painfully shy and very uncoordinated. The first thing they did at the meeting was to play a game called “Swing the Thing.” This involved everyone forming a circle with one boy in the middle. The center boy held a rope, at the end of which was tied a bag of wet rags. The object of the game is for the boy to swing the weighted rope as fast as he can and for all the boys in the circle to jump over the bag as it goes by. If you mistimed your leap, you’ll get knocked over and you are then eliminated from the game. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to swing the thing for the next round. Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a bloody nose.
“I hadn’t been there five minutes and I had a bloody nose. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When that game was over, they went outside and played “British Bulldog.” In this game, all but one person line up on one side of the field. At the shout of “go,” everyone tries to run to the other side of the field. The one in the middle tries to tackle someone and hold them to the ground long enough to say, “British bulldog,” which means that they’ve been caught and have to then work with other boy to help capture boys when they run back. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to start the next game as the British bulldog.
Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a fat lip for his efforts.
“I hadn’t been there fifteen minutes and I had a bloody nose and a fat lip. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When the meeting started, the scoutmaster made Mike stand in the front and introduce himself to everyone. He was so nervous that he stuttered and stammered his way through it.
When he got home his parents asked him how things had gone, and he frankly told them that he hated it, but he wound up going again the next week, and the week after.
He said it took him a long time to figure out what it was that kept him coming back, and he finally determined that it was because Boy Scouts forces you to do things that make you uncomfortable, and facing those things makes you a better person.
He went on to relate that to his TV show. Dirty Jobs is all about people who perform necessary functions in the world that all of us would be uncomfortable doing.
He finished up by talking about his conundrum with the Scout Law, which declares, among other things, that a Scout is Clean, yet he makes his living doing dirty jobs. Clean is comfortable, and dirty is one of those things that you have to put yourself through to build yourself into someone capable of accomplishing great things. He has finally decided on a new saying, “A Scout is Clean, but he’s not afraid to get Dirty.”
The show had three more bands perform. Honor Society sang two songs, and spent all the time in between letting us know that their songs were available to download from iTunes. Switchfoot, whose name comes from a surfing term, were the headliners, and they sang three of four tunes and walked out into the audience to enormous cheers. Brian says he is a big Switchfoot fan, which surprised me. They’re a little heavier of a rock band than I thought he preferred. He says that Johnathan, a boy he rides bikes with all the time, is a huge fan, and that’s where he heard about them.
I have to admit that they are very talented, but it made me wish I were a little farther back from the three-storey tall speakers. I don’t care if that makes me sound old, I’ve earned my age.
The final performers were an a cappella group called Vocal Point. They were introduced as all Eagle Scouts, and they performed a song called “On My Honor,” which was amazing. I had actually heard of these guys before. They had all been part of BYU’s a cappella group before they graduated.
To finish off the evening, they put on the largest fireworks display ever hosted on a military base. It was impressive, to say the least. At one point, I was looking up as high as I could stretch when I realized that they were shooting off more fireworks behind me and to either side. Like I said, very impressive.
It was quarter to eleven when they wrapped things up and sent us to our beds. Some of the kids had several miles to walk, so I’m sure they had a late evening. I was in bed by one, but decided not to try writing this blog before switching off.
Day Twenty-one: Friday, 30 July, 2010
This morning was overcast again and the dark clouds threatened rain that only sprinkled for a few minutes here and there. At work, we had things down to a smooth routine. I would give the welcome and walk the scouts through step one, making fish lips and using their teeth to scrape loose skin cells from the inside of their cheeks, then spitting them into their plastic vials. Jason or Steve would describe step two, measuring and adding the lysis buffer solution to their vials, and all of us would walk around and distribute the solution. Step three was to hold the mixture in your fist to use body heat to warm it up. While they were doing that for five minutes, Joanna or Tom would talk about what DNA is and how it works. Steve or Jason would come back to explain step four, adding isopropyl alcohol without letting it mix in. While that sat for a few minutes, Fred or Mark would talk about how DNA is used in marine biology research, specifically with regard to dolphins and sea turtles in the Hawaiian Island chain. Yesterday, Jason broke into the end of the explanation and told a joke.
“Hey, guys, did you know that when sea turtles lay their eggs in the shade, they become male turtles, and when they lay them in the sun they become female turtles? Do you know why that is? Because dudes are totally cool, and chicks are totally hot!”
Now Fred has made the joke part of the speech, which helps fill the time needed for the chemical reaction to complete, but he just doesn’t have the same delivery as Jason, so the kids seldom laugh. And we’re all tired of the joke ourselves.
I tried switching up with the tortoise joke from Alice in Wonderland (or was it Through the Looking Glass?) “You know, I learned about DNA from my high school biology teacher, Mr. Turtle. Do you know why we called him Mr. Turtle? Because he tortoise.” (Because he taught us.) Not even one laugh. Ah well.
Mark and Jessi are nominally in charge of our area. Jessi is the only one who absolutely does not want to get up and talk in front of the boys, so she works on other things to stay busy.
I had the afternoon off again today, so I was planning to walk around and see some of the Jamboree. Brian came by just before lunch, so we ate lunch together. He had lost his buddy, so he stopped by at Tech Quest to find me. We went back to his campsite to let his leaders know where he was, in case his buddies had returned to report him missing. They hadn’t. Then Brian and I went and stood in line to go off the forty-foot rappelling tower. Brian explained that the army builds forty-foot towers because that’s the highest you can be and still feel afraid of heights. Once you’re up too far, like in an airplane, you aren’t afraid of falling, just interested in seeing what’s down there. I’m not sure I entirely buy that explanation. Anyway, I got all the way to the bottom without the slightest twinge of fear and suddenly realized that I had forgotten to look down at all. Hmm, no wonder.
I did learn that Brian can whip me seven ways from Sunday at rock climbing. Perhaps he has had much more practice than me, or perhaps I’m just too fat, old, and weak. I would vote for a good portion of both.
The two of us wandered through the merit badge midway after that, since Brian had seen a Camaro he wanted to show me. We never found it again, but he did get to show me the hang glider he had helped to put together and take down while he was working on his aviation merit badge. I think I have also convinced him to take the engineering merit badge classes while he is here, since they had a good display and program running while we walked by.
Brian also told me that today was a day of “epic awesomeness.” After breakfast, one of the patrol leaders in his troop had shouted, “What troop are we?”
“730!”
“What day is it?”
“7/30!”
“What time is it?”
“7:30!” Accompanied by whoops and yells.
I told him that he could do it all again after dinner tonight, which he thought would be “epic.”
On our way out of the midway and back to the east, Brian found someone from his troop that he could buddy up with, so we parted ways. I walked back to the bus stop and made it our to Wilcox camp about the same time I would have if I had worked a full day. Maybe a half hour later.
So the evening was the same as normal; dinner, shower, call Pam, go to bed; with one notable exception. Most of the people in my barracks work at the merit badge midway, and so they brought equipment for teaching scouts. Amongst the group they had come up with a laptop, a projector, and Bose speakers. They hung a white sheet on a clothesline and the barracks all watched Iron Man tonight right before lights out.
Pam and Company had again found a few things to delay their travels, and I don’t blame them. The freeway they were on went right past Seibert, CO, which is where Pam’s dad’s parents had met and married. So they stopped for an hour or so and looked around the town. There were a few other things too, like needing to recharge the air conditioner. Again, I can’t blame them for taking the time to take care of that immediately. Anyway, they didn’t arrive in Jerome, ID for the night until almost 1:00 am.
“Hey, guys, did you know that when sea turtles lay their eggs in the shade, they become male turtles, and when they lay them in the sun they become female turtles? Do you know why that is? Because dudes are totally cool, and chicks are totally hot!”
Now Fred has made the joke part of the speech, which helps fill the time needed for the chemical reaction to complete, but he just doesn’t have the same delivery as Jason, so the kids seldom laugh. And we’re all tired of the joke ourselves.
I tried switching up with the tortoise joke from Alice in Wonderland (or was it Through the Looking Glass?) “You know, I learned about DNA from my high school biology teacher, Mr. Turtle. Do you know why we called him Mr. Turtle? Because he tortoise.” (Because he taught us.) Not even one laugh. Ah well.
Mark and Jessi are nominally in charge of our area. Jessi is the only one who absolutely does not want to get up and talk in front of the boys, so she works on other things to stay busy.
I had the afternoon off again today, so I was planning to walk around and see some of the Jamboree. Brian came by just before lunch, so we ate lunch together. He had lost his buddy, so he stopped by at Tech Quest to find me. We went back to his campsite to let his leaders know where he was, in case his buddies had returned to report him missing. They hadn’t. Then Brian and I went and stood in line to go off the forty-foot rappelling tower. Brian explained that the army builds forty-foot towers because that’s the highest you can be and still feel afraid of heights. Once you’re up too far, like in an airplane, you aren’t afraid of falling, just interested in seeing what’s down there. I’m not sure I entirely buy that explanation. Anyway, I got all the way to the bottom without the slightest twinge of fear and suddenly realized that I had forgotten to look down at all. Hmm, no wonder.
I did learn that Brian can whip me seven ways from Sunday at rock climbing. Perhaps he has had much more practice than me, or perhaps I’m just too fat, old, and weak. I would vote for a good portion of both.
The two of us wandered through the merit badge midway after that, since Brian had seen a Camaro he wanted to show me. We never found it again, but he did get to show me the hang glider he had helped to put together and take down while he was working on his aviation merit badge. I think I have also convinced him to take the engineering merit badge classes while he is here, since they had a good display and program running while we walked by.
Brian also told me that today was a day of “epic awesomeness.” After breakfast, one of the patrol leaders in his troop had shouted, “What troop are we?”
“730!”
“What day is it?”
“7/30!”
“What time is it?”
“7:30!” Accompanied by whoops and yells.
I told him that he could do it all again after dinner tonight, which he thought would be “epic.”
On our way out of the midway and back to the east, Brian found someone from his troop that he could buddy up with, so we parted ways. I walked back to the bus stop and made it our to Wilcox camp about the same time I would have if I had worked a full day. Maybe a half hour later.
So the evening was the same as normal; dinner, shower, call Pam, go to bed; with one notable exception. Most of the people in my barracks work at the merit badge midway, and so they brought equipment for teaching scouts. Amongst the group they had come up with a laptop, a projector, and Bose speakers. They hung a white sheet on a clothesline and the barracks all watched Iron Man tonight right before lights out.
Pam and Company had again found a few things to delay their travels, and I don’t blame them. The freeway they were on went right past Seibert, CO, which is where Pam’s dad’s parents had met and married. So they stopped for an hour or so and looked around the town. There were a few other things too, like needing to recharge the air conditioner. Again, I can’t blame them for taking the time to take care of that immediately. Anyway, they didn’t arrive in Jerome, ID for the night until almost 1:00 am.
Day Twenty: Thursday, 29 July, 2010
This morning was more of the usual routine: breakfast, long bus ride, setup, work. After lunch, though, I had the rest of the day off. I didn’t feel much like standing in the hour-long line to catch a bus down to where I could catch a bus out to my barracks, so I headed out on foot, with the intention of stopping to see Brian’s camp along the way. I hadn’t walked more than a quarter mile when the thunder started and suddenly someone was dumping out bathtubs full of warm water overhead. And then the wind kicked in.
I was not prepared, which is a hard thing for a scout to admit. In my defense, I hadn’t really had an opportunity to watch the weather report on the news before turning in last night, what with no TV or radio in the barracks. Anyway, the rain didn’t bother me that much. I was soaked through in less than a minute, but it’s not the first time that’s happened, and the rain was not too cold (except for the wind). The problem was that my bag was not waterproof. That lasted maybe two minutes before it too was soaked.
After about thirty minutes, the rain stopped. It was sunny again by the time I made it to Brian’s camp. They had survived everything all right. It appeared that they hadn’t seen as much rain as my area had, but they still got dumped on pretty well.
After that visit, I walked to the central transfer point and caught the bus out to Wilcox. After changing out of still-wet clothes, I headed over to see if I could use the base laundry room. I had heard that there was a sign posted saying that BSA personnel could use the room from 2400 to 0600, but I thought I would see if I could use it during daylight hours so long as I was willing to yield to the soldiers. When I got there, I found that there were plenty of open machines, and the soldiers in the room were fine with my using them.
Laundry done, I went to dinner just before they closed the cafeteria, hit the shower, called Pam, and headed for bed.
Pam spent a little time seeing a few things in the Kansas City area, so she was running a little behind schedule. She plans to stop for the night in Colby, KS. I think that will put her two time zones behind me.
I was not prepared, which is a hard thing for a scout to admit. In my defense, I hadn’t really had an opportunity to watch the weather report on the news before turning in last night, what with no TV or radio in the barracks. Anyway, the rain didn’t bother me that much. I was soaked through in less than a minute, but it’s not the first time that’s happened, and the rain was not too cold (except for the wind). The problem was that my bag was not waterproof. That lasted maybe two minutes before it too was soaked.
After about thirty minutes, the rain stopped. It was sunny again by the time I made it to Brian’s camp. They had survived everything all right. It appeared that they hadn’t seen as much rain as my area had, but they still got dumped on pretty well.
After that visit, I walked to the central transfer point and caught the bus out to Wilcox. After changing out of still-wet clothes, I headed over to see if I could use the base laundry room. I had heard that there was a sign posted saying that BSA personnel could use the room from 2400 to 0600, but I thought I would see if I could use it during daylight hours so long as I was willing to yield to the soldiers. When I got there, I found that there were plenty of open machines, and the soldiers in the room were fine with my using them.
Laundry done, I went to dinner just before they closed the cafeteria, hit the shower, called Pam, and headed for bed.
Pam spent a little time seeing a few things in the Kansas City area, so she was running a little behind schedule. She plans to stop for the night in Colby, KS. I think that will put her two time zones behind me.
Day Nineteen: Wednesday, 28 July, 2010
Yesterday morning was the “Opening Arena Show,” which seems odd to me, having been here for a few days already. Anyway, it was a lot of fun. Several Boy Scout executives spoke, Miss America spoke and sang, the Army Golden Knights paratroopers performed, there was a flyover by F-16s, the governor of Virginia welcomed us, and there were a few other things I don’t recall at the moment.
Of course, the line to get into the natural bowl for the show was fifteen people wide and an hour long. I didn’t expect to see anyone familiar in a crowd that large, but less than halfway in I looked over and the man standing to my right, who was turned away, had on a Columbia Pacific Council patch, and I thought, “Hey, he’s from my council.” Then I noticed his troop number was 628, and I thought, “Hey, that was my troop number in Astoria when I was a scout.” And lo and behold, when he turned back around it was Frank Van Winkle, who at one point was my assistant scoutmaster. We sat together for the show and did a little catching up. Small world, isn’t it?
It was less hot when the day started today, but more humid. Overall, I think it was easier to handle. Sitting down on the grass in the wide open bowl for so long, I got sunburned on my knees. I hadn’t been putting sunscreen there, because they hadn’t been seeing all that much sun, what with my belly to provide shade. Anyway, I didn’t even notice until shower-time last night. They got some ointment at bedtime, and a healthy dose of sunscreen today.
As expected, there was no more pretending to be dead today, but I still got to handle introductions. Other than that, there were not a lot of changes at work today. Just running a group of scouts through the same twenty minute presentation over and over. There is a little more that I can participate in, since I don’t have to lie in the sun for most of the discourse now.
That was pretty much my day, breakfast, long bus ride, setup, work, lunch, work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, bed.
The barracks are a little hard to get used to. There are 44 bunks in each of two bays, with a walkway going the full length of the building. In the middle, separating the two bays, is a room with four showers to the north and a divided bathroom and washroom on the south side. Instead of doors, the toilet stalls have shower curtains that almost reach from one side to the other, just like the curtains in the showers. Oh well, if I don’t get used to it, at least it won’t last forever.
Pam and the others were in Branson, MO tonight, watching a show there. Tomorrow morning they’ll head out for the mad dash back home. Mica has to leave for another week-long activity next Monday, which doesn’t leave much time for sightseeing from here on out.
Of course, the line to get into the natural bowl for the show was fifteen people wide and an hour long. I didn’t expect to see anyone familiar in a crowd that large, but less than halfway in I looked over and the man standing to my right, who was turned away, had on a Columbia Pacific Council patch, and I thought, “Hey, he’s from my council.” Then I noticed his troop number was 628, and I thought, “Hey, that was my troop number in Astoria when I was a scout.” And lo and behold, when he turned back around it was Frank Van Winkle, who at one point was my assistant scoutmaster. We sat together for the show and did a little catching up. Small world, isn’t it?
It was less hot when the day started today, but more humid. Overall, I think it was easier to handle. Sitting down on the grass in the wide open bowl for so long, I got sunburned on my knees. I hadn’t been putting sunscreen there, because they hadn’t been seeing all that much sun, what with my belly to provide shade. Anyway, I didn’t even notice until shower-time last night. They got some ointment at bedtime, and a healthy dose of sunscreen today.
As expected, there was no more pretending to be dead today, but I still got to handle introductions. Other than that, there were not a lot of changes at work today. Just running a group of scouts through the same twenty minute presentation over and over. There is a little more that I can participate in, since I don’t have to lie in the sun for most of the discourse now.
That was pretty much my day, breakfast, long bus ride, setup, work, lunch, work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, bed.
The barracks are a little hard to get used to. There are 44 bunks in each of two bays, with a walkway going the full length of the building. In the middle, separating the two bays, is a room with four showers to the north and a divided bathroom and washroom on the south side. Instead of doors, the toilet stalls have shower curtains that almost reach from one side to the other, just like the curtains in the showers. Oh well, if I don’t get used to it, at least it won’t last forever.
Pam and the others were in Branson, MO tonight, watching a show there. Tomorrow morning they’ll head out for the mad dash back home. Mica has to leave for another week-long activity next Monday, which doesn’t leave much time for sightseeing from here on out.
29 July, 2010
Day Eighteen: Tuesday, 27 July, 2010
I was up at a little before six, and was out the door for breakfast by 6:15. I didn’t sit down to eat until just after 7:00 because the line was so long. Everyone is on the same schedule now, and we all need to be to our areas by 8:00. Fortunately, someone has arranged for a special bus to run directly from Wilcox to Tech Quest, leaving at 7:30. The speed limit on the base has moved to 10 miles per hour now that all the scouts are here, so we were a little bit late arriving. At least I had company.
I forgot to mention that I got my work assignment yesterday a little bit before we stopped work for the day. I get to work in the DNA lab, which is one of those rare areas where there is no outside, sponsor-led instruction. Everyone in that group is part of the Jamboree staff, like me. Due to my vast experience in theater (three years of drama in high school and two years teaching Shakespeare), I got to play the part of the corpse.
We’d gather all the scouts we could fit in one group into their seats and I would give them all a warm Boy Scout handshake, welcome them to the Jamboree, and start explaining what we would be doing for the next twenty minutes. Somewhere along there, I would collapse to the ground.
Mark would rush up shouting, “What happened? What did you do?” Various statements of denial would be mumbled back. Jason would lean down and check my pulse. “He’s dead, Jim.” Tom would find a nasty-looking wound on my hand courtesy of green and purple Crayola markers. “Look at this. He’s been poisoned!”
They would collect a sample of DNA from the wound, and then drag me outside to wait for the coroner to pick me up while they helped each of the scouts collect their own DNA, amplify it using a lysis buffer solution and isopropyl alcohol, and then “compare” it to the sample from the corpse. Each of the scouts got to take home their sample, where you could see the strings of DNA with the naked eye.
I had a lot of fun with the role, introducing myself as James Boddie, Heinrich Von Corpse, and Humberto Muerto. The novelty wore off for us long before the day was done, though, so I think we may find a different opening act for tomorrow. Too many complaints about my weight, too. They got progressively less and less gentle in throwing out the dead man.
I forgot to mention that I got my work assignment yesterday a little bit before we stopped work for the day. I get to work in the DNA lab, which is one of those rare areas where there is no outside, sponsor-led instruction. Everyone in that group is part of the Jamboree staff, like me. Due to my vast experience in theater (three years of drama in high school and two years teaching Shakespeare), I got to play the part of the corpse.
We’d gather all the scouts we could fit in one group into their seats and I would give them all a warm Boy Scout handshake, welcome them to the Jamboree, and start explaining what we would be doing for the next twenty minutes. Somewhere along there, I would collapse to the ground.
Mark would rush up shouting, “What happened? What did you do?” Various statements of denial would be mumbled back. Jason would lean down and check my pulse. “He’s dead, Jim.” Tom would find a nasty-looking wound on my hand courtesy of green and purple Crayola markers. “Look at this. He’s been poisoned!”
They would collect a sample of DNA from the wound, and then drag me outside to wait for the coroner to pick me up while they helped each of the scouts collect their own DNA, amplify it using a lysis buffer solution and isopropyl alcohol, and then “compare” it to the sample from the corpse. Each of the scouts got to take home their sample, where you could see the strings of DNA with the naked eye.
I had a lot of fun with the role, introducing myself as James Boddie, Heinrich Von Corpse, and Humberto Muerto. The novelty wore off for us long before the day was done, though, so I think we may find a different opening act for tomorrow. Too many complaints about my weight, too. They got progressively less and less gentle in throwing out the dead man.
Day Seventeen: Monday, 26 July, 2010
Today, we put the finishing touches on all the different areas that we are responsible for while all 40,000+ scouts arrived and set up their own campsites. There wasn’t really that much that needed doing. Most of the areas were sponsored by one company or another, and most provided their own staff to setup and work the area, just using us as backup and assistants. The Quonset hut we put together on my first day and part of the second is run by a company called iHigh, and they had six people there. Rockwell Collins had the front of the hut next door, and I don’t think they let any of us help them set up their $420,000 flight simulator, though I can’t imagine why not. Other corporate or private sponsors include: NASA, The Franklin Institute, DeVry University, X-Prize, Lego Robotics (Mindstorm), Michigan Tech, The International Spy Museum, National Geographic, and a few others I can’t recall right now.
Right behind our area is a giant temporary building that says “Mystereum Compass” on it and blasts eclectic music all day long. It looks and sounds like one of those sideshows you see at state fairs. Most of the songs are ones that I like, so it makes working a little easier. Next to that are the two 40-foot-tall inflatable water slides, and next to that is the custom-built, jamboree-sized swimming pool. I wish they’d let me test it out for them… Ah, well.
After work and dinner, I was able to locate Brian and his buddy. We hiked around a bit looking at things, and I bought them both ice cream sandwiches before I headed back to my billet for a shower and then to bed. Lights out at 10:30, so that’s all I have time for tonight.
Right behind our area is a giant temporary building that says “Mystereum Compass” on it and blasts eclectic music all day long. It looks and sounds like one of those sideshows you see at state fairs. Most of the songs are ones that I like, so it makes working a little easier. Next to that are the two 40-foot-tall inflatable water slides, and next to that is the custom-built, jamboree-sized swimming pool. I wish they’d let me test it out for them… Ah, well.
After work and dinner, I was able to locate Brian and his buddy. We hiked around a bit looking at things, and I bought them both ice cream sandwiches before I headed back to my billet for a shower and then to bed. Lights out at 10:30, so that’s all I have time for tonight.
Day Sixteen: Sunday, 25 July, 2010
Today I wore my class-A uniform for the first time here and went to church services after breakfast. The speakers were a young lady, whose name escapes my recall, who is the president of the National Venturing Organization; Larry Cook (I hope I remember his name right), who was the scoutmaster of the Jamboree troop in 2005 that lost two scouts and several adults when they raised a tent pole too near high-voltage power lines; and Larry Gibbons, from the Presiding Bishopric.
It was an uncommon sacrament meeting, to be sure. Shade was scarce, and disappeared quickly as the meeting went on. Larry Cook, as he was retelling what happened at the last Jamboree, pointed to the spot where they had been camping, about 120 feet from where he stood at the podium. He had been helping to raise the pole at the time the electricity had arced across to it. His son was right there and managed to knock him away from the pole without hurting himself too much. He took a long time to heal.
When the meeting ended, I went back to the barracks to change clothes and then headed back to my work area. It was slightly cooler, probably under 100 degrees, but just as humid and sticky. I was glad when it was time to call it a day and head back for a meal, a shower, and bunk time.
It was an uncommon sacrament meeting, to be sure. Shade was scarce, and disappeared quickly as the meeting went on. Larry Cook, as he was retelling what happened at the last Jamboree, pointed to the spot where they had been camping, about 120 feet from where he stood at the podium. He had been helping to raise the pole at the time the electricity had arced across to it. His son was right there and managed to knock him away from the pole without hurting himself too much. He took a long time to heal.
When the meeting ended, I went back to the barracks to change clothes and then headed back to my work area. It was slightly cooler, probably under 100 degrees, but just as humid and sticky. I was glad when it was time to call it a day and head back for a meal, a shower, and bunk time.
Day Fifteen: Saturday, 24 July, 2010
Today was a long driving day for Pam and Company, all the way from Richmond, VA to Huntsville, AL. They passed back into CDT somewhere around Chattanooga, TN. More than half of me wishes I had gone with them, for more than one reason. Of course, I miss my family, but I also missed air conditioning. Today was a scorcher! It wasn’t as humid and muggy as it was in Nauvoo, but it was hotter.
At the Jamboree, I am working in the Technology Quest area, which has a lot of great high tech stuff for the scouts to play with. Or will have once we’re done setting up. Today I worked inside a metal shed about 50 yards long and maybe 20 wide at the base. When I started working, I thought of it as a hangar, but others called it a Quonset hut. To me, it looked like a giant soup can split in half lengthwise, a concept strengthened by the fact that there was an identical building sitting right next to it.
In our building, we were constructing an oversized aluminum framework from enormous erector set pieces. We spent all day working on it, and had all of the metal pieces up where they belonged by the end of the day. We had started putting up the vinyl and fabric hangings in the open spaces, too, which made the building into a temporary giant informational display. We also got to unpack the Apollo-11 spacesuit, the life-sized and detailed Predator and Alien mannequins, the imitation Mars landscape and NASA Mars rover, and lots of other things. We’ll finish setting up tomorrow.
Every twenty minutes they called a water break, and every break I drank a half liter of water. It wasn’t overdoing it at all, since I was thirsty again by the time we stopped. It was about 5:30 when they decided to call it a day and put us back on busses to get us to our barracks. I’m staying in Wilcox camp, which is to the east, outside of the normal Jamboree area. The Technology Quest area is to the far west side of the Jamboree site. I don’t mind the commute, since those staying over on the west end are sleeping in tents and the barracks building has some a/c, though it can’t keep up. Still, I was lucky to be put there. Most everyone else in the building is assigned to work on the merit badge midway.
At the Jamboree, I am working in the Technology Quest area, which has a lot of great high tech stuff for the scouts to play with. Or will have once we’re done setting up. Today I worked inside a metal shed about 50 yards long and maybe 20 wide at the base. When I started working, I thought of it as a hangar, but others called it a Quonset hut. To me, it looked like a giant soup can split in half lengthwise, a concept strengthened by the fact that there was an identical building sitting right next to it.
In our building, we were constructing an oversized aluminum framework from enormous erector set pieces. We spent all day working on it, and had all of the metal pieces up where they belonged by the end of the day. We had started putting up the vinyl and fabric hangings in the open spaces, too, which made the building into a temporary giant informational display. We also got to unpack the Apollo-11 spacesuit, the life-sized and detailed Predator and Alien mannequins, the imitation Mars landscape and NASA Mars rover, and lots of other things. We’ll finish setting up tomorrow.
Every twenty minutes they called a water break, and every break I drank a half liter of water. It wasn’t overdoing it at all, since I was thirsty again by the time we stopped. It was about 5:30 when they decided to call it a day and put us back on busses to get us to our barracks. I’m staying in Wilcox camp, which is to the east, outside of the normal Jamboree area. The Technology Quest area is to the far west side of the Jamboree site. I don’t mind the commute, since those staying over on the west end are sleeping in tents and the barracks building has some a/c, though it can’t keep up. Still, I was lucky to be put there. Most everyone else in the building is assigned to work on the merit badge midway.
Day Fourteen: Friday, 23 July, 2010
Today, we toured Colonial Williamsburg, once the capital of Virginia. One day was not enough to see everything. After lunch we split into three groups, we all went and saw different things and we still didn’t cover everything.
The first thing we saw was the old capitol building. The man giving the tour stayed in character throughout, and behaved as if it were June of 1776. Virginia had just declared itself to be independent of England and was urging the other colonies to do the same. A government was still found to be necessary for administering various needs, the people were gathering to create a separate commonwealth. As we walked out, there were actors portraying scenes that might have occurred at that time. A woman found some old friends after walking all the way from Charlotte, SC. Her husband had been captured by the British, and might or might not be incarcerated in a prison ship in Charlotte Harbor. Several men spoke out in favor of asking the French to join our fight against the British. And later, General Benedict Arnold tried to persuade the people to lay down their arms and accept King George’s letter stating that he would no longer tax the American Colonies without representation.
We had a great lunch, in a period-authentic restaurant, and more actors came in playing contemporary roles. When we split up, Pam and Delia went to the drama workshop for Delia to participate in. Mica and I went to the museum, watched a short play about the three women in George Washington’s life: his wife, his sister, and his mother. Pam’s dad saw a number of things, including the smithy and some of the military fortification. We all met together to hear Thomas Jefferson give a speech. The actor who portrayed him deserves an award. He was amazing! He spoke for 45 minutes or so, with no notes. I recognized enough quotes of Jefferson’s to realize the speech was entirely composed of Jefferson’s words. And after he was done, he took questions from the audience, and responded exactly the way you would expect Jefferson to have done; evincing his attitudes, speaking plainly and directly, and with the greatest eloquence. We were floored at how great it was.
Following that, we went to see the army assembled and General Lafayette addressed the troops. There were fifes and drums, marching and martial displays, and they fired off cannons and muskets.
After that, we had to head back the way we had driven the day before, all the way to Bowling Green, VA. That is where Fort A. P. Hill is located, and that is the site for the 2010 National Boy Scout Jamboree. It was past dark when we arrived, but we found our way and I was able to get checked in and settled into my barracks bunk.
Pam, et. al., apparently got lost getting back off base, but eventually made it down to Richmond, where they stopped for the night.
The first thing we saw was the old capitol building. The man giving the tour stayed in character throughout, and behaved as if it were June of 1776. Virginia had just declared itself to be independent of England and was urging the other colonies to do the same. A government was still found to be necessary for administering various needs, the people were gathering to create a separate commonwealth. As we walked out, there were actors portraying scenes that might have occurred at that time. A woman found some old friends after walking all the way from Charlotte, SC. Her husband had been captured by the British, and might or might not be incarcerated in a prison ship in Charlotte Harbor. Several men spoke out in favor of asking the French to join our fight against the British. And later, General Benedict Arnold tried to persuade the people to lay down their arms and accept King George’s letter stating that he would no longer tax the American Colonies without representation.
We had a great lunch, in a period-authentic restaurant, and more actors came in playing contemporary roles. When we split up, Pam and Delia went to the drama workshop for Delia to participate in. Mica and I went to the museum, watched a short play about the three women in George Washington’s life: his wife, his sister, and his mother. Pam’s dad saw a number of things, including the smithy and some of the military fortification. We all met together to hear Thomas Jefferson give a speech. The actor who portrayed him deserves an award. He was amazing! He spoke for 45 minutes or so, with no notes. I recognized enough quotes of Jefferson’s to realize the speech was entirely composed of Jefferson’s words. And after he was done, he took questions from the audience, and responded exactly the way you would expect Jefferson to have done; evincing his attitudes, speaking plainly and directly, and with the greatest eloquence. We were floored at how great it was.
Following that, we went to see the army assembled and General Lafayette addressed the troops. There were fifes and drums, marching and martial displays, and they fired off cannons and muskets.
After that, we had to head back the way we had driven the day before, all the way to Bowling Green, VA. That is where Fort A. P. Hill is located, and that is the site for the 2010 National Boy Scout Jamboree. It was past dark when we arrived, but we found our way and I was able to get checked in and settled into my barracks bunk.
Pam, et. al., apparently got lost getting back off base, but eventually made it down to Richmond, where they stopped for the night.
28 July, 2010
Day Thirteen: Thursday, 22 July, 2010
Today we toured George Washington’s home at Mt. Vernon. It was a fabulous tour, and very informative. Pam was particularly impressed with the working farm and all the work and planning that Washington had put into it. We were able to see the original Arnold Friberg painting of Washington Praying at Valley Forge. There was again more to see than we could fit in, so we grudgingly headed off.
It wasn’t a very long drive from DC to Mt. Vernon, but we were in the car a bit longer before we made it to our next stop, Jamestown, where we learned that Disney films are not entirely historically accurate. I was shocked to learn this. Right. So Pocahontas, at the time the ships arrived, would have been a bare-skinned ten-year-old covered in bear grease. And Grandmother Willow doesn’t talk. At least not anymore.
We did get to board and explore replicas of the three ships that carried the first settlers in Jamestown, saw how dugout canoes were fashioned, and saw examples of daub and wattle constructions. I also learned that daub has the same Latin ancestry as adobe.
We had German food for dinner, and then checked into our hotel. Tonight was laundry night once again. That will allow me to start at the Jamboree with everything clean. Today was also another really hot day. We haven’t really had anything else since we got to the east coast.
Also, Jamestown put us just a smidge short of actually seeing the Atlantic once again. C’est la vie.
It wasn’t a very long drive from DC to Mt. Vernon, but we were in the car a bit longer before we made it to our next stop, Jamestown, where we learned that Disney films are not entirely historically accurate. I was shocked to learn this. Right. So Pocahontas, at the time the ships arrived, would have been a bare-skinned ten-year-old covered in bear grease. And Grandmother Willow doesn’t talk. At least not anymore.
We did get to board and explore replicas of the three ships that carried the first settlers in Jamestown, saw how dugout canoes were fashioned, and saw examples of daub and wattle constructions. I also learned that daub has the same Latin ancestry as adobe.
We had German food for dinner, and then checked into our hotel. Tonight was laundry night once again. That will allow me to start at the Jamboree with everything clean. Today was also another really hot day. We haven’t really had anything else since we got to the east coast.
Also, Jamestown put us just a smidge short of actually seeing the Atlantic once again. C’est la vie.
Day Twelve: Wednesday, 21 July, 2010
We started today’s touring at the Folger Shakespeare Library, an amazing place to see. They have 17 copies of the first folio in their collection. This site was particularly interesting to Pam, Mica, and me, since we’ve put so much time and effort into two years of teaching Shakespeare at the commonwealth school.
Our time there was too short (sound familiar?) but then we moved onto the Library of Congress. I had no idea the building was so ornate! We got to see copies of the Guttenberg Bible, and also the Bible of Mainz, which Gustavus Adolphus claimed as a trophy after the battle of Mainz in 1631. The octagonal reading room was stunning, and full of art to depict all areas of human learning. It was a beautiful place to see. This period of European history is much more familiar to me now, after getting caught up in Eric Flint's 1632 series.
After that, we headed over to the U. S. Capitol Building for a guided tour. We had been told to expect a one hour tour, and after three hours we opted not to go see the Senate floor from the observation balcony. We did get to see most everything worth seeing, though. I was glad to have seen the Apotheosis of Washington, as well as the LoC reading room, after they played such prominent roles in The Lost Symbol, which I read earlier this year.
We had to get moving, though, because this evening was our one and only chance to see Brian. We hadn’t seen him for a week before we left because he had gone to scout camp all week and arrived home Saturday afternoon, when we had left that morning. We did have time to grab a quick dinner in between the Metro station and the Lincoln Memorial, where we wound up crossing paths with Brian’s troop. They had just flown in that afternoon, and the memorials were the first things they went to see. We have to leave Washington tomorrow, so I am glad that we were able to catch him.
We also visited the Korean and Vietnam War Memorials. I found that there are four men named Cheney who appear on the roles of the Vietnam Memorial stone. This was another place that was very special for Pam’s dad, and we spent a long time there. Mica and Delia were very tired and overheated by the time we got back to our hotel, where they showered and then collapsed into bed.
Our time there was too short (sound familiar?) but then we moved onto the Library of Congress. I had no idea the building was so ornate! We got to see copies of the Guttenberg Bible, and also the Bible of Mainz, which Gustavus Adolphus claimed as a trophy after the battle of Mainz in 1631. The octagonal reading room was stunning, and full of art to depict all areas of human learning. It was a beautiful place to see. This period of European history is much more familiar to me now, after getting caught up in Eric Flint's 1632 series.
After that, we headed over to the U. S. Capitol Building for a guided tour. We had been told to expect a one hour tour, and after three hours we opted not to go see the Senate floor from the observation balcony. We did get to see most everything worth seeing, though. I was glad to have seen the Apotheosis of Washington, as well as the LoC reading room, after they played such prominent roles in The Lost Symbol, which I read earlier this year.
We had to get moving, though, because this evening was our one and only chance to see Brian. We hadn’t seen him for a week before we left because he had gone to scout camp all week and arrived home Saturday afternoon, when we had left that morning. We did have time to grab a quick dinner in between the Metro station and the Lincoln Memorial, where we wound up crossing paths with Brian’s troop. They had just flown in that afternoon, and the memorials were the first things they went to see. We have to leave Washington tomorrow, so I am glad that we were able to catch him.
We also visited the Korean and Vietnam War Memorials. I found that there are four men named Cheney who appear on the roles of the Vietnam Memorial stone. This was another place that was very special for Pam’s dad, and we spent a long time there. Mica and Delia were very tired and overheated by the time we got back to our hotel, where they showered and then collapsed into bed.
Day Eleven: Tuesday, 20 July, 2010
Today, Pam got up early and went to the grocery store while the rest of us (eventually) got out of bed and got ready for the day. We had breakfast in our hotel room, packed a snack, and then headed out. Our first destination was into town for the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. There was a limit on our stay there because our next stop at the Pentagon was a scheduled tour. The Air and Space Museum had an entire room dedicated to the Wright brothers, one for WWI fighters, another for WWII airmen and planes, one for WWII aircraft carriers and their battles. Plus lots of planes suspended from the ceiling, as well as three space modules. One of them was John Glenn’s. In short there was too much to see and not enough time to see it all.
Had Brian gone with us, we never would have pried him out of there. Pam noted how much Brian would enjoy it if we gave him money for lunch, dropped him off at the door when it opened and picked him up when it closed in the evening. I’m sure he would have loved it, and asked to do it again the next day. Brian has decided that he wants to be a pilot for his career, and that seems to be the primary motivating force for him. I mention that mostly because finding things that motivate Brian has occasionally been challenging.
The Pentagon tour was great. Lots of walking, of course, and we did not see more than a small fraction of the building. We did see the two memorials for those who died on 9/11, one inside, in the rebuilt section that was destroyed, and one outside that is accessible to the public.
After the Pentagon, We all went back to the hotel for lunch. Her dad and I went to Arlington National Cemetery right after that, and the girls joined us there later on. We were able to see the Kennedy graves, as well as the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns. The Lee Mansion/Arlington House was closed before we got that far in the tour. Some other well-known people whose graves I saw were William Jennings Bryant, John Foster Dulles, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Omar Bradley, and Thurgood Marshall. I tried to follow the guide’s waved hand to see Audie Murphy’s headstone too, but I was not able to locate it.
While we were walking through the cemetery, Pam heard about a Marine Corps parade at the Iwo Jima/Marine Corps Monument every Tuesday night. It was a bit of a hike to get there, and it had started before we arrived. It didn’t finish, either. High winds, rain and the possibility of lighting caused the cancellation of the end. We did get to hear the Fife and Drum Corps and watch the silent rifle drill, both of which were amazing.
When the parade ended, we braved the weather to spend a good bit of time at the monument. This was one place that Pam’s dad had wanted to visit for a long time, and we wanted to allow him time to process the moment.
When we finished there, we walked north to the nearest subway station, and stopped for dinner at Baja Fresh on the way. They were in the process of closing up because the restaurant was empty, but we stayed and ate there at their insistence. There was still a half hour before closing time when we arrived.
By then we decided it was too late to go back into DC to look at monuments, so we headed for the comfortable beds of the Radisson.
Had Brian gone with us, we never would have pried him out of there. Pam noted how much Brian would enjoy it if we gave him money for lunch, dropped him off at the door when it opened and picked him up when it closed in the evening. I’m sure he would have loved it, and asked to do it again the next day. Brian has decided that he wants to be a pilot for his career, and that seems to be the primary motivating force for him. I mention that mostly because finding things that motivate Brian has occasionally been challenging.
The Pentagon tour was great. Lots of walking, of course, and we did not see more than a small fraction of the building. We did see the two memorials for those who died on 9/11, one inside, in the rebuilt section that was destroyed, and one outside that is accessible to the public.
After the Pentagon, We all went back to the hotel for lunch. Her dad and I went to Arlington National Cemetery right after that, and the girls joined us there later on. We were able to see the Kennedy graves, as well as the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns. The Lee Mansion/Arlington House was closed before we got that far in the tour. Some other well-known people whose graves I saw were William Jennings Bryant, John Foster Dulles, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Omar Bradley, and Thurgood Marshall. I tried to follow the guide’s waved hand to see Audie Murphy’s headstone too, but I was not able to locate it.
While we were walking through the cemetery, Pam heard about a Marine Corps parade at the Iwo Jima/Marine Corps Monument every Tuesday night. It was a bit of a hike to get there, and it had started before we arrived. It didn’t finish, either. High winds, rain and the possibility of lighting caused the cancellation of the end. We did get to hear the Fife and Drum Corps and watch the silent rifle drill, both of which were amazing.
When the parade ended, we braved the weather to spend a good bit of time at the monument. This was one place that Pam’s dad had wanted to visit for a long time, and we wanted to allow him time to process the moment.
When we finished there, we walked north to the nearest subway station, and stopped for dinner at Baja Fresh on the way. They were in the process of closing up because the restaurant was empty, but we stayed and ate there at their insistence. There was still a half hour before closing time when we arrived.
By then we decided it was too late to go back into DC to look at monuments, so we headed for the comfortable beds of the Radisson.
Day Ten: Monday, 19 July, 2010
Today was another of those days where we knew we could not be late. We needed to be at the Baltimore Airport by 9:15 to pick up Pam’s dad. He’s going to tour Washington, DC with us and then drive back with Pam after she drops me off at the National Boy Scout Jamboree.
There was a little bit of a hiccup picking him up, which involved a policeman flashing his lights at me and telling me to keep moving, but we did manage to catch up to him and shoehorn him into the Sentra. We jetted south to DC, because we had another appointment for a tour of the National Archives. We had to stand in line to see the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. We didn’t have time to see much more than that before we had to head out for our appointment at Ford’s Theater. There, we got to see pretty much everything they had to offer.
From there, everyone was going to go through the Holocaust Museum while I took our things and checked into our hotel on the other side of the Potomac. The plan was for me to take the subway back and meet them at the Museum of American History.
Unfortunately, the navigation system on Pam’s phone kept telling me to make illegal turns, and got me well and truly lost before its battery died. At which point, I had no way of knowing how to get anywhere, nor to let Pam know what was going on. Eventually, I did make it to the hotel, I charged up Pam’s phone, and I took the subway into the city. Of course, by the time I managed all that, they had all left the museum because it was closing time.
After dinner, we were too tired to do any more sightseeing, so we subwayed back to the hotel and went to bed.
There was a little bit of a hiccup picking him up, which involved a policeman flashing his lights at me and telling me to keep moving, but we did manage to catch up to him and shoehorn him into the Sentra. We jetted south to DC, because we had another appointment for a tour of the National Archives. We had to stand in line to see the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. We didn’t have time to see much more than that before we had to head out for our appointment at Ford’s Theater. There, we got to see pretty much everything they had to offer.
From there, everyone was going to go through the Holocaust Museum while I took our things and checked into our hotel on the other side of the Potomac. The plan was for me to take the subway back and meet them at the Museum of American History.
Unfortunately, the navigation system on Pam’s phone kept telling me to make illegal turns, and got me well and truly lost before its battery died. At which point, I had no way of knowing how to get anywhere, nor to let Pam know what was going on. Eventually, I did make it to the hotel, I charged up Pam’s phone, and I took the subway into the city. Of course, by the time I managed all that, they had all left the museum because it was closing time.
After dinner, we were too tired to do any more sightseeing, so we subwayed back to the hotel and went to bed.
Day Nine: Sunday, 18 July, 2010
We went to church with our friends this morning, then came home and had a great home-cooked dinner after. It was a wonderful visit, and we wished we could have stayed all day. Alas, there just isn’t ever enough time.
When we left Leesburg in the afternoon, we headed northeast around the beltway and stopped to go through the visitor’s center for the Washington, DC Temple. It’s a very big temple!
From there we continued up to Baltimore and toured around Fort McHenry. I was excited for a minute or two, thinking that I had finally gotten a look at the Atlantic Ocean. My mistake, though, since only the Chesapeake Bay was within sight.
Today was also a very hot and muggy day, and Mica and Delia had reached their limits much sooner than either Pam or I appreciated. They finally went back to the air conditioned visitor’s center while we finished up. Because we were there when the fort was closing for the night, I got to help fold the 30- x 42-foot replica Star-Spangled Banner, which my daughters missed out on.
Apparently, they only fly the big flag when the winds are between 5 and 12 miles per hour. If it is less than five, the flag won’t billow and flap. And if it is over twelve, it is likely to snap the flagpole. Since no one is there at night to keep an eye on the winds, they put up a smaller flag every evening.
After that, it was Mexican for dinner, and then off to our hotel.
When we left Leesburg in the afternoon, we headed northeast around the beltway and stopped to go through the visitor’s center for the Washington, DC Temple. It’s a very big temple!
From there we continued up to Baltimore and toured around Fort McHenry. I was excited for a minute or two, thinking that I had finally gotten a look at the Atlantic Ocean. My mistake, though, since only the Chesapeake Bay was within sight.
Today was also a very hot and muggy day, and Mica and Delia had reached their limits much sooner than either Pam or I appreciated. They finally went back to the air conditioned visitor’s center while we finished up. Because we were there when the fort was closing for the night, I got to help fold the 30- x 42-foot replica Star-Spangled Banner, which my daughters missed out on.
Apparently, they only fly the big flag when the winds are between 5 and 12 miles per hour. If it is less than five, the flag won’t billow and flap. And if it is over twelve, it is likely to snap the flagpole. Since no one is there at night to keep an eye on the winds, they put up a smaller flag every evening.
After that, it was Mexican for dinner, and then off to our hotel.
Dead Reckoning (Book One) - Chapter Nine
Lieutenant Leonard Ward, M. D.
From his memoirs, "There and Back Again".
28-29 June, 2787
I was awakened from a deep sleep, after a long rotation in the medical bay, rather abruptly. Unfortunately, I was not very lucid at the time, and it took me a moment to register that there were two men standing over me who were trying to rouse me. Apparently, my continued slumber caused them some consternation, for one of them proceeded to fling me bodily out of bed. In fact, I believe he threw the whole bed with me in it, for when I came to myself I could see that it too was upside down and out of place.
I certainly was not used to being handled in this fashion, and came immediately to my feet to demand what they thought they were doing, treating me in this manner. I could see that my protestations caused them some degree of amusement, which was not at all the reaction I had expected or desired.
I recognized both of the men, obviously; our ship's complement was not all that large. De Saumserez and Danis were their names. The latter I had treated the week previous for a minor burn. Clearly he was an ungrateful sort at heart, because he was the one which had overturned my bed, and then grabbed me by the arm and marched me out into the passageway.
At this time, I must admit, I began to fear for my own safety. I had no inkling of events in other parts of the ship, and my trepidations were completely for myself at this point. Both of the men who were frog-marching me aft outmassed me by 40 or 50 kilos, myself being of a relatively slighter stature. My fears were generally ungrounded, as I arrived in the launch bay with nothing worse than a slight bruise on my left arm.
Ours was not the first such party to arrive, nor the last. Several officers and a few of the crew, apparently the bridge watch, since Captain Brighton and two others were secluded in one corner, and they were being watched by armed men. I was taken to a different group containing about a dozen people. All of them were silent and had a look of astonishment on their faces, to one degree or another.
As quietly as I could, I asked Fujinami, the exobotonist of our excursion and a close friend, what was transpiring. He responded that the executive officer, along with others, had conspired to steal Pathfinder.
A thousand questions flooded my mind, but I had no time to ask them. Teach, the executive officer, had entered the bay. He looked over at our group and then sent one of the crewmen to fetch me to him.
"Ward," he said, "this ship is now under my command. You no longer have to fear severe treatment from Brighton. It is my intention to put everyone off of this ship who will not follow me. There is a planet near here that is capable of supporting life, where they will have a good chance of surviving indefinitely. Will you join me, or will you take your chances with them?"
The bluntness of his proposition caught me off guard, and his steely gaze did not make it any easier to think just then. I was tempted to stay on the ship; it seemed the easier course of action. Life on a maiden planet was hard, and we scarcely had the numbers and diversity of skills needed to begin a new colony.
However, I realized, Teach was committing an act of piracy, even if it was an "inside job", as the media like to call it. The penalty for that crime, if caught, was death. Once the ship was reported missing, the Warner fleet would begin searching for it. It was almost certain that the stranded crew on the nearby planet would be rescued, and equally sure that the thieves would be caught, eventually. With that in mind, I thought my chances better with the party to be stranded, even if that hadn't been my natural inclination.
Perhaps ten seconds had passed while I considered, then I replied that I would take my chances with the others. He inhaled sharply, as if I had offered him some offense, then turned his back on me and addressed Crewman Chin.
"Take him back to the medical bay. Let him take the portable medkit, and any other small items Dr. Johnson says we can spare. Then let him gather some of his belongings from his quarters. No more than he can carry himself. And let him change clothes. I am not putting anyone off this ship in their pajamas."
Chin did not say a word to me all the way back to the med bay, simply following behind me as I made my way there. Meghan was not at her duty station, as I had expected her to be, since I had not passed her going aft on my way forward. After a moment's confusion, though, I saw her through the window in the operating room.
She glanced up as I approached, but went straight back to her work. I could see that the patient was Jill Burton, and that she had taken a blaster pulse to the right side of her torso. The breast and much of the skin on that side were gone, and it would be a miracle if she retained the use of that arm. As I watched, Meghan was struggling to bypass the melted and charred portions of the brachial artery and anterior humeral circumflex artery with a synthetic replacement. Without the replacements to restore blood flow, and quickly, the entire arm would be irrecoverable.
I vacillated as to what to do, but only for a moment. There was a patient who needed help, and that was my first and foremost responsibility, even if it meant numbering myself amongst the mutineers. Chin looked into the room for a second and went straight to the sink to vomit.
I punched the button to call into the sealed room. "Meghan, hit the unlock tab and let me come scrub in."
She didn't look up, didn't stop her feverish efforts to repair the mangled body on the table before her. "What's going on out there, Leon?" she asked instead.
I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to organize my thoughts into a coherent summary for her. "Commander Teach and some of the officers and crew are taking over the ship. I don't know how many he has with him, but he plans to put everyone else off the ship."
"I thought that's how it was," she responded wearily, all the while moving quickly and skillfully about her task. "You'd best not come in, Leon. I can handle Jill's injuries as well as both of us could, for the most part. If you scrub in, you'll be stuck on Pathfinder with the rest of the traitors."
Simon Chin had put himself back together enough to find a seat, but he had deliberately not come back over to the window. He was close enough to hear, though, and he flinched at the word 'traitor'. I didn't much care if his sensibilities were offended.
"Besides," she continued, head still down over her work, "we're responsible for the entire crew. Wherever the others wind up, they're also going to need a medical officer."
She was right about all of it, except for her not needing help with Burton's operation. I could see that the marine's vitals were stabilized, so she was going to live, but saving her arm was a matter of minutes, and four hands would speed the time to completion.
Dr. Johnson looked up then, for a moment, as she sensed my hesitation. "Go, Leon. I'll make it an order if I need to."
"You might have to," I said stubbornly. "You might not save her arm without help."
"Yes I will!" she said fiercely. She softened her tone immediately. "Now go, and stop distracting me. This is not the easiest thing I have ever done."
She was right again. This was not the easiest thing she had ever done, but she was showing as much surgical skill as I had ever witnessed. While I had stood there, she had restored the blood supply to the arm and was beginning to work on repairing the tissue damage. Rather than the speed necessary for the former, she now needed accuracy and patience. And no distractions.
"Goodbye, Meghan. I hope I see you again sometime."
"I hope so, too, Leon. Godspeed."
I turned then, and went to collect the medical kit I had been promised. I kept myself turned away from Chin, so that he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes.
Since Chin was not about to go ask Meghan for what could be spared, as he had been instructed, I decided that I would simply load up what I could carry until he tried to stop me. He never did. I walked out with more of our medical stores than I had thought I would. The medkit Teach had specifically allowed me contained a wide variety of instruments and supplies.
In addition to the medkit, I carried a considerable amount of medicines; antiradiation, antibiotic, pain, quickmend, etc. I was also foresighted enough to gather items to aid in assisting us in surviving on an unknown planet until help could arrive. Two large sealable containers were loaded with sheets and blankets, plus air splints, monotubing, and bandages. I finally decided that I had everything that might be useful within my ability to carry.
At that point, I nodded to Chin and left, the two containers strapped over my shoulders and my arms full of the other things. I never said anything to Meghan, not trusting my voice to remain steady if I made the attempt. I would see to it that Brighton was aware of the sacrifice she had made to do her duty.
My quarters were just around a bend from the med bay, which had been convenient in going on and off duty. Meghan and I shared the space therein, which had worked out amicably thus far in the voyage, as one of the two of us was always on duty, so we had all the privacy we needed; always crossing paths, but never really together except to relieve each other at our station.
In gathering up things there, I was tempted to take everything I owned, but realized immediately that that was not practical. I spent a few minutes gathering my personal effects and locking them all in my foot locker, and then tried to forget about them, trusting to fate to bring them back into my possession someday. Meghan would look after them for me, I was sure.
To my bundle, I added only two pairs of pants, my extra shoes, socks, briefs, and my two readers - one with all of my medical reference texts, and the other with recent medical journals and other light reading I had planned to catch up during the lengthy exploration. When I changed out of my sleepwear and into my uniform, I took four scrub shirts and put them all on. I collected my load and made to leave, then returned and kicked the bed back onto its legs and threw the blanket over my shoulder.
Chin had remained silent throughout, and I did not even spare him a glance as I left and headed back to the launch bay, though I could hear him following right behind me. Just before we reentered the launch bay, where I would have to rejoin the rest, Chin stopped me by finally addressing me.
"Ward…" I paused, and turned to look at him, but he continued to say nothing for a few seconds, as if he had used up his allotment of words. Or perhaps it was the glare I bestowed upon him that caused him to be unable to continue. Just as I was about to turn back to the hatch, he said, "Good luck, Ward."
My estimation of Simon Chin changed drastically then. Previously, I had thought of him as I would a bully forcing his will upon me which I had no power to overcome. He had been a hated enemy, and a symbol of the betrayal of trust to which I had been subjected. As I looked upward into his eyes, though, I saw that he was almost as trapped by circumstances as I was. He had chosen to support the opposite party in this situation, but he clearly was not happy about the consequences of his choice, or what he was forced to do because of it.
All hostility toward him drained out of me, and I said simply, "Thank you, Simon." I looked at him for a moment more, then went through the hatch.
When I entered the launch bay, my detained shipmates were not in the same corner they once were. The group had been moved next to the launch's access hatch, and they were in the process of climbing down into the access corridor.
Captain Brighton was now among them, and he seemed tensed and ready to spring into action, should there be the slightest opportunity. His eyes scanned from side to side, taking in all about him. The crewmen who were aiding Teach in his treachery kept a close eye on all of us, though, especially the captain, Lieutenant Johnson, the helm officer, and Major Chowdhury, the head security officer.
Several of the men also derided and shouted epithets at us, particularly the captain. For his part, Captain Brighton remain silent and aloof, though it was clear to all that he was exerting every effort to control his mounting rage.
The survey launch into which they were loading us had two seats in the forward area, intended for the pilot and copilot, and seats for ten others in the main area. It was into this area that we were sent, one after another, until nearly two dozen of us were stuffed inside. I had to quickly stow the supplies I had brought aboard to make room for more shipmates to be packed in.
Sheli Chowdhury approached me while I was about this task. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. "Have you seen Burton, Ward?"
"Yes, Major. She's going to pull through, and I think she will be able to keep the arm. Dr. Johnson was confident that she would."
She thanked me, and moved off to convey the news to Sgt. Aichele, the other member of her security team.
When all were aboard, Teach appeared at the airlock hatch. He repeated his earlier offer to all of us, asking if any would prefer to stay aboard Pathfinder rather than be exiled to Antoc-A3. I presumed at the time that he was referring to the habitable planet on which he planned to strand us, though I had not heard the name before. To my great surprise, three individuals arose and exited the craft, including Eric Aichele. He seemed ashamed of himself, and well he should, I thought. Fujinami told me later that six others of the crew had accepted Teach's generosity while they were held in the launch bay.
Before Teach could disappear and seal the hatch, Lt. Johnson asked about getting some food to take with us. Teach answered that the galley had not been stocked, but the emergency rations were still aboard, and that we would have to make do with those.
Chowdhury, perhaps emboldened by Johnson's request, asked about getting weapons to defend ourselves on the planet. How had she gotten out of those handcuffs, I wondered. Teach considered for a moment, then nodded and disappeared from my view. When he returned, he tossed four handguns into the launch. Chowdhury grabbed one immediately, but just as quickly discovered that the power cell had been removed. Teach laughed, then sealed the inner airlock hatch and, I learned later, left the cells in the lock before sealing the outer hatch.
No more than thirty seconds passed from the time Teach sealed the outer door before I felt the launch being pushed out of the bay. Captain Brighton stood behind the two pilot's seats and watched as the ship which had, until a short time ago, been his to command slowly receded from our view.
Mackey, who was in the copilot's seat, made contact with Pathfinder via vocom, but his entreaties produced no positive response; quite the opposite, in fact. Whoever was manning the vocom equipment, and I did not recognize the voice, seemed to be happy to threaten, yell, upbraid, and deride us in response to Mackey's pleas. Long, Johnson, and Smith all became very angry and yelled right back. Ultimately, the entreaties we sent had no effect on them, and Pathfinder, our home for the past nine months, powered itself away like a mother abandoning an unwanted child.
Captain Brighton remained motionless the entire time Pathfinder was still discernible. He stood behind the pilot's seats with his hands clasped behind him and stared at the diminishing shine of her engines. This was perhaps a total of ten minutes, though it seemed far longer. Within a minute, all conversation on the little launch had ceased. Everyone waited expectantly for the captain to direct us, to tell us what to do or what to expect. For his part, he seemed to be unaware of the heightened attention we were giving him, as if the firefly glow of Pathfinder's running lights had him mesmerized and oblivious to all else.
It was easy for me to understand the captain becoming melancholy over the loss of his ship. Clearly, being put out of the ship was a great shock to me, but it must have been many times worse for the captain. He not only found himself in the same dire straits as the rest of us, but he must surely be blaming himself, undeservedly of course, for it as well. It was no wonder that he should find himself emotionally cast adrift in exact parallel to our physical circumstances.
Much as I felt I should offer the captain some comfort at that time, I could not bring myself to do so. Firstly, I felt myself to be just as needful of comforting; I do not mind admitting that I was quite anxious, and more than a little frightened at our current state. Secondly, if I had tried to commiserate or bolster the captain's spirits, it would have diminished him in the eyes of the others. The morale of our group was a very fragile thing indeed just then, and the only thing, I felt, that could hold us together would be to keep confidence in the captain's ability to guide us and direct our efforts. Lastly, I did not have a relationship with the captain that would have allowed such intimacy. Though he and I had dined at the same table perhaps a hundred times, still there was an invisible barrier between him and everyone around him. The only ones I believe that were close enough to him to have attempted such would have been Teach, Chowdhury, and Johnson; of which one had just betrayed him.
I cannot, to this day, imagine how Captain Brighton must have felt. Just that day, he had accomplished a singularly notable feat; successfully guiding the first full-sized ship to make use of a jump gate powered only by the ship itself. Yet within twenty hours of that great achievement, he had lost his ship, the majority of his command, and one of his best friends, or so he had thought. To be brought to such abysmal depths after such soaring heights would be enough to crush a lesser man's spirits.
It was not a dejected or discouraged man which turned away from the viewport, however. As he turned, his eyes displayed the fire of anger and determination for all to see.
"Ms. Johnson," he said crisply.
"Yes, sir?"
"They haven't taken to a new heading yet, and I don't expect they will. Just in case, though, set up a scan to follow Pathfinder for as long as we can range her. Make sure all our data gets dumped to the log."
"Aye, sir."
"Mr. Le Vesconte?" The captain addressed himself now to the quartermaster.
"Yes, sir."
"I need an accurate inventory of everything aboard this launch, especially food and fuel. Have the ensigns assist you."
"Aye-aye, sir."
"Ms. Williams," he said, turning next to the attractive young helmswoman, barely older than the ensigns herself. "As your captain, I would appreciate it if you could see your way clear to set course for Antoc-A3, bearing 267.11, same plane, from our current location. We have a lot of v to counter, so we will need to pile on the acceleration for several hours."
"Aye-aye, Captain. Course laid in," she replied with the undercurrent of some private joke.
"Mr. Long, I want you to take O'Neill and Alcaraz and see what access we have to the internal power lines from within the cabin. I already know what lines are accessible from various panels, but I need to know what else we can make accessible given the resources we have available to us."
"Aye, sir. I'll get right on it."
The Captain then looked around the cabin at the remnants of his staff and crew. "The rest of you are going to need to be accommodating to those with assignments. I know we are crowded in here, but do your best to stay out of their way."
"Dr. Ward." I started at being addressed, as I thought he had concluded handing out duties to be performed.
"Yes, sir?"
"I see that you were able to bring a fair amount of supplies with you. Could you itemize them for Mr. Le Vesconte? I'm sure that will help him complete his assignment."
"Certainly, Captain," I replied.
I moved to obey, and Le Vesconte directed me to provide the information to Ensign Roberts, who was collating all the information the other two ensigns and Drew himself read off to her. It took me no more than a few minutes to provide Jherri the requested information. I had long ago committed to memory the items in the medkit, and the other things I had collected were still fresh in my mind. Since I was not required to physically go through the items in question in order to list them, I completed my portion without interruption while the others waited for their turns to add what they had found in various compartments and bins.
I returned then to my seat, which was not actually a seat, as those available were already occupied before I was put aboard, but was a section of the floor that I considered "mine" by the expedient of having sat there prior to getting up. My assignment having been completed, I took a look around the cabin and realized that the feeling of anxiety and gloom which had hung over our party had dispelled to a large degree, to be replaced with energy and determination.
The reason for this change was not hard to understand. Previously, all of us had felt cast adrift, no pun intended, by the events of that day. All of our regular duties and routines were taken from us, and replaced with unknown and unknowable dangers and difficulties. When Captain Brighton began directing us it acted as an emotional anchor. We could again feel that someone had control of the situation. By trusting in the captain, we could convince ourselves that he would take care of us and see us safely through whatever came. Perhaps, logically, that does not make a lot of sense; but emotionally it did not need to make any sense at all. The results were what mattered.
Drew Le Vesconte did not take long to make his report to the captain. They were near the front of the cabin while I was at the rear, so I did not hear everything the report contained. Captain Brighton listened attentively to the complete list. At one point he asked, "That's all? You're sure?", which I do not believe he meant to say loud enough for all to hear, but otherwise he remained silent. When Le Vesconte concluded, the captain said something to him which I did not hear, then dismissed him.
He turned then to Ms. Williams, and gave her some order that was below my hearing.
Drew's "seat", or perhaps "spot" would be more accurate, was next to mine. As he seated himself, I asked him what had caused the captain such consternation. He responded that it was not, as he expected, the food supply which had caused his response, but the amount of battery power.
"Look," he said to me, "the launch has an emergency supply of arbars, (by which he meant the ration bars that would provide everything needed for one meal of a 2000 Kcalorie/day diet) enough for four weeks. But the supply is calculated on an 8-man crew, which is all a survey shuttle this size is supposed to carry. It won't last the 19 of us near that long."
"And the batteries?" I prompted.
"Well, if the emergency rations are just as they ought to be, the batteries are not. It's clear they intended us to go to the nearest planet and nowhere else, because there's not power to go any farther than that. It looks like they pulled most of the battery packs out of their connections before they even loaded us onboard. Once we get to A3, I doubt we'll have any way to get back off of it on our own."
At the time, I did not know why this information should distress the captain, but I quickly put it out of my mind. I, like Le Vesconte, was more concerned with our ability to feed ourselves until help arrived. I knew nothing whatsoever about our destined exile planet, save the name only, with which I had become acquainted a scant half hour previous. Teach had said that those stranded would have "a good chance of surviving indefinitely", but I was less than inclined to accept his opinion on anything just then. I would likely have disputed that water was wet, had he made the claim.
I stewed about the problem for some time, then realized that there really was nothing I could do about it until we reached our destination and saw what was available for food. This, of course, lead me to the further realization that there was precious little I could do about it one way or another even then; either there would be food available in some form, or there would not. I would just have to trust the captain to deal with whatever problems were to arise.
I just as quickly ignored my own sage advice and went back to worrying about the food situation.
I next went through the calculations in my head which indicated that we had less than 12 days' rations for all of us on which to survive. I was about to go forward to ask the captain if he knew anything about the planet to which we were headed, and if we would be able to find anything edible there. When I looked up at him, though, I decided to stay in my place. Captain Brighton was deep in thought; he always tapped his jaw with one finger that way when he was trying to analyze something. Every now and then he would pull out his notepad and search for some datum, then return to his previous percussive rhythm.
After perhaps a half hour of this, the captain stood from the seat he was in and walked to the front of the main cabin, turning to face everyone except Williams and Johnson in the two pilot's positions. Instantly, the muffled conversations going on about the ship ceased and all eyes turned to Captain Brighton.
It seemed that he was about to ask everyone for their attention when he saw that he already had it, and he paused for a moment before continuing. After running his fingers through his red hair, he started again.
"I am sure that all of you are aware of our general situation. Teach expected to leave us no options but to go to Antoc-A3 by leaving us in proximity to that planet, and restricting the amount of food and battery power available to us. I do not mean to do as Teach expects, now or ever again. To that end, I am rationing our food and our use of the batteries, effective immediately. I have already instructed Warrant Williams to replot our course toward the planet, taking more time, but using less power. I have not discussed it yet with Lieutenant Johnson, but it is in my mind that we can land on the planet without using our gravitic engines at all, and thus conserve even more power.
"I do not have a complete plan yet, but Ms. Johnson and I will discuss the particulars and make you aware of them when it is finalized. In the meantime, we must take every opportunity to conserve four things: food, water, fuel, and power. Water is not normally a problem, because the launch is equipped to recycle it with only minimal loss. However, the recyclers use power from the batteries, and the batteries cannot be recharged with the means currently available.
"What I am asking each of you to do is to submit yourselves to my authority in rationing our resources, and that you will do so without complaint or dissent."
He again paused while the import of his words sank into our minds and souls. Clearly, he already had the authority to issue whatever orders he chose. In fact, given what I had previously heard others saying about him, that is precisely what I would have expected him to do. Perhaps the betrayal, both personal and professional, that he had suffered caused him to be reticent in exercising his authority. Whatever the reason, I think that the very fact that he asked all of us to follow him, to trust him, unified our group to a single purpose as a dictatorial commandment could not have.
There seemed to be no dissent among us, but that was not sufficient for the tall captain. He stood before us and called each of us by name, starting with Ms. Chowdhury and proceeding from most senior to most junior. He asked each of us if we would submit to his authority, and in each case the response was a quick and ready, "yes, sir!" Ensign Hayes even stood and saluted when he was called on, and everyone thereafter did as well.
"Thank you all for the confidence you have placed in me," he said then. "If you will follow my instructions, if you will bear up under the struggles we will certainly face, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to see you all safely home again." His eyes burned and he held a clenched fist before him as he continued. "And I will find Ed Teach and the rest of those traitors and I will see justice done upon them, if I have to move the universe itself to see it done!"
I can attest, without the slightest fear of equivocation, that no one among us doubted the captain's word. I heard Derrick Mackey, the ship's purser, say "Amen", as if to add both his agreement and prayer to Captain Brighton's oath with a single word.
That discussion ended, Brighton took over Williams' seat and sent her back to the main cabin. I could see that Johnson and the captain were discussing what he had in mind. Captain Brighton was doing most of the talking, though they were speaking softly enough I don't believe that anyone could overhear them; I certainly couldn't from my spot against the aft bulkhead. I did see the lieutenant give him one or two looks of disbelief, however.
The journey to Antoc-A3, from the time our launch left the Pathfinder to the time we could see the planet unaided, took over 28 hours. Apart from dividing three ration bars 19 ways for three meals, Brighton and Johnson were deep in discussions the entire time.
Orbit was achieved by means of the reaction mass thrusters, without engaging the gravitic engines. Brighton began immediately to scan the planet for a suitable location to land. He seemed to be having some difficulty in getting readings, and I wondered if he was trying to keep from using battery power with the scanners also. I must have said something aloud without intending to, for Clémence Queneau, the survey cartographer, explained that the sensor package on the launch was very powerful and accurate, but only for the things for which it was intended to be used. It was designed to be extremely sensitive to fluctuations in gravity fields, and detecting mass in the vast emptiness that comprised almost the entirety of space. Being able to "see" through the interference of atmosphere to get a clear picture of the ground was not one of its primary tasks, and so the system's designers had given it a low priority. With the result being a delay to us to make sure we could see where we were going to land.
After the breakfast "meal" was distributed, around 0830, Captain Brighton ordered us all to get some rest. He and Johnson would spend the next few hours finding our landing site and calculating our landing course. I pulled out the blankets and sheets that I had packed and distributed them. There were not enough to go around, so I settled down without one. I didn't seem cold in the least, even though the ambient air was not being heated in order to conserve power, and I had to chuckle to myself.
With all the anxiety and tension I had been through since our enforced exile, it was the first time I had noticed that I was still wearing four shirts.
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