Origins (Remote) (3 page)

For Ronnie Gilmore and Cassie Reynold, the whole thing began easily. The parents were told that their children were exceptionally bright and appeared to have a promising future. The prospect of college scholarships were dangled as bait, and while no promises were made, hints were given that these bright children could get a free ride to the schools of their choice when the time came.

“Can you see that, Mrs. Gilmore?” Clinton Farrow had asked, sipping coffee in the living room of the Gilmore residence. “Ronnie has a lot of potential. He could pretty much pick any school he’d like. MIT, or Stanford, or heck, maybe even Harvard, and all paid for by a scholarship from the government. We’re very interested in promoting students in the sciences, and Ronnie has been selected as a possible candidate.”

Ronnie could see the excitement in the eyes of his mother. She spent the afternoon bustling around the house and telling him over and over again that this could be a big opportunity for him. Sara Gilmore had been raised in a single room shack in Mississippi. She’d escaped the dirt roads and outdoor plumbing by a whisker, having met and married her husband Richard after a chance meeting in a hardware store where she worked a clerk. The thought of watching Ronnie cross the stage with a college diploma in his hand was a dream come true.

Richard Gilmore was no less impressed by the chance to see his son make his way through college on a scholarship. Born poor himself, he’d worked his way through high school and junior college on the loading docks of New Orleans, finally obtaining an accounting degree and landing a white -collar job at the shipping firm where he’d begun. He’d gone far beyond his roots. That his son would go even further he already knew. Richard Gilmore was no fool though. He’d never been given anything in his life. Being wary he asked the obvious questions.

“It all sounds very good Mr. Farrow, but I’m not understanding what Ronnie’s part, or our part, is exactly. Is this some type of military scholarship? I don’t like the idea of him being in the military. Not with this whole Viet Nam thing going on and no end in sight.”

“No no, Mr. Gilmore,” Farrow said, putting down his coffee cup. “Understand this. The American economy is the strongest in the world, and the government wants to keep it that way. In order to stay in the forefront of science we have to find and identify the best and the brightest while they’re young. The government wants to invest in the future of the country and that means our young people. Ronnie gets a good education if he’s selected, and the Unites States gets a terrific young scientist or college professor or economist, or whatever Ronnie wants to be. Ronnie wins, and the country wins.”

He picked up his coffee again. “Of course, if you’re not interested, you’re under no obligation. Maybe your boy won’t be a good fit if you don’t think he’s ready for something like this.” Farrow dangled the bait and waited for the fish to strike.

A few blocks away, James Ruff was having a much easier time of it. The parents of
Cassie Reynold were upwardly mobile. Ernest Reynold had come up in a tough place but found his way out of it by hard work. He attended trade school then opened his own body shop with money saved from hours of overtime work and a small insurance settlement from his mother’s death. Five years later he was the owner of three shops and had moved his family into a decent neighborhood. The idea of his daughter moving in educated circles was a welcome thought. He had never had the chance to go to college, but had already begun planning for Cassie’s education. The idea that she could attend one of the best schools in the country on the government’s dime was appealing.

His wife Cindi wasn’t sold on the idea. While a college education for her daughter was in her plans she had always believed that
Cassie would attend college locally. The thought of her alone in a city far away and beyond her care and control was just a little too much. She thought Cassie would be better off living at home until her schooling was completed and said so. She also didn’t like James Ruff. There was something about the man. She didn’t believe the story he was telling. She couldn’t articulate the feeling she was getting from him but it wasn’t sitting well with her.

“All this talk of schools and they’re all so far away,” she said. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with her going to school in another state.”

“Of course, if Cassie were to be gifted with a scholarship Mrs. Reynold, she would be able to attend the school of her choice. LSU maybe, or even Tulane. That’s right here in the city. Of course right now we’ll just be assessing potential for the next year or so. The final decisions won’t be made for a while. But I must say I’m terribly impressed with her.” Ernest Reynold had heard enough. If his wife wasn’t buying the opportunity, he was. A free college education didn’t walk in the door very often.

“I don’t see where it can hurt to try it out for a while. If it doesn’t seem like a good thing, we just say thanks and pull her out. Missing a PE class once a week isn’t going to be a big deal if it does her some good in getting ready for college.”

And with that, it was done.

Dennis Archer had found a home in Washington. His military career over, the tag of General was now a nod to past services. It wasn’t until he’d assumed command of his present organization at the CIA that he’d come into his own. Beginning with a small group of trusted personnel he’d built a formidable group that now wielded immense power within the halls of the capital. His ability to complete missions that ran well under anyone’s radar had served him well.

His first impression when presented with the idea for COSMOS was to laugh out loud. He was a practical man, more comfortable with traditional clandestine operations than what he saw as lunatic fringe thinking. Still, an assignment was an assignment. The funding was there. He had the people and the means though his personal opinion was that it was a waste of time. The first two years of the program brought him exactly what he expected, which was next to nothing. The meeting with Cutter at Ft. Polk was a prelude to ending the whole thing. He would give Cutter a few more months, pronounce the project a waste of time, and move on.

Exactly one month after that meeting he’d gotten a phone call from Cutter. “I think we’ve found something,” the Stanford professor said.

“And what’s that?” asked Archer

“We’ve got two kids down in New Orleans that are blowing things off the chart. Absolutely the best prospects we’ve ever seen. I’ve got Ruff and Farrow reporting everything to me and it’s pretty amazing. We need to drop the search and just concentrate everything we have on these kids. I mean they’re amazing, you won’t believe the things these kids are telling us.”

Cutter took it all with a grain of salt. “Send me copies of what you’ve got Dr. Cutter, and I’ll look them over. Now I’m going to ask you a serious question. Do you really believe these children are something special or are you just trying to keep your research going?”

“I’m telling you that this could be the breakthrough we’re looking for. You’ll have the transcripts of the sessions tomorrow, all the test results, everything. By the time the phone call ended Archer was intrigued enough to call in his Agent Thorne. They spent the next day reviewing the paperwork from Cutter.

“What do you think?” Archer asked when they were done.

Thorne shrugged. “I think I’d better go down to New Orleans and see for myself. If this is real we have to explore it. If it’s bullshit Cutter will have some explaining to do.”

To Archer’s surprise Thorne soon converted into a believer. His reports on the possibilities of the COSMOS program were highly optimistic. His report spoke glowingly of the possibilities of the two subjects. Thorne always called them subjects in his own reports. The fact that his agency was engaged in the exploitation of children didn’t sit well with Archer. That, and the fact that Thorne’s past career contained some fairly questionable activities, added to his uneasiness. Still, the man got results and Archer was inclined to leave him in place for the time being.

As a precaution Archer had tapped into the results from the more closely controlled Stargate project. His impressions of that effort left him curious. The whole situation would bear watching. In the meantime he would have Thorne there to oversee things. If the project eventually bore fruit it could turn out to be an effective tool. If not it was just taxpayer money and there was plenty of that being thrown his way. As for Cutter, Archer knew him to be a brilliant man if very methodical man, not prone to overenthusiasm. He felt he had a good team and he would allow it to run. It was a long shot but he had seen many a long shot pay off in his career.

Ronnie Gilmore spent the first week of his selection for the college scholarship program thinking more about the possibilities than anything. He was intrigued and more than a little intimidated. At thirteen years old he had spent more time thinking about dinner than he had about the future. The reaction of his mother and father surprised him. He knew he wasn’t stupid but for some reason they now began to talk about him in his presence as if he was brilliant. More than once he had heard his mother on the phone talking about him to friends or relatives. It was a little disconcerting, like being a bug in a glass jar with faces staring in and watching his every move.

His session with Farrow had been unsettling. Their time together once more consisted of a series of guessing games, most of which he nailed. But as the session progressed he began to get the uneasy feeling that Farrow was watching him with some sense of amazement. He didn’t know why. The things he was doing came naturally. It was like breathing but every time they finished a test Farrow would look at him, then back to his papers, then back at him. It was as if he was trying to find some reason not to believe what he was seeing. Ronnie sat there, silent, nervous, and with the undeniable feeling that he would rather be anywhere else but here.

Even more than that he had been hoping that he would somehow be paired with
Cassie for part of the time at least. The fact that he wasn’t disappointed him. It would have been the best thing to come out of the deal in his opinion. Yet it wasn’t happening. In fact it seemed like Farrow and Ruff were determined to keep them apart. The single time they might have spent a few minutes together, Ruff had intercepted Cassie as she was walking from her class, guiding her away from Ronnie with his hand on her arm. Cassie had given him an uneasy look, then followed Ruff into their own session room down the hall. He watched her go in the room and the door close behind them with solid thunk.

Cassie Reynold was not intimidated in the least by her time spent in the room with Ruff. Rather than the uneasiness felt by Ronnie, Cassie felt a definite sense of danger. Why this was so she didn’t understand. Yet. But she was determined to find out. She had serious misgivings but there seemed to be no real threat. Ruff had been business like, producing a constant barrage of tests and questions and inquiries. The probing varied from card games to interpretation of photographs to imaginative storytelling.

Through it all
Cassie detected an underlying tone of deceit. Her inner radar was screaming something, a warning that things weren’t as they appeared. She was picking up on emotions Ruff radiated, something she had grown used to in her life. Rarely could anyone hide anything from her. Rather than run away, she’d decided to meet things head on, ride it out, and find out for herself where all this was headed. Her underlying nature made her amiable and outgoing. What Ruff didn’t know, but what her mother could have told him, was that Cassie was a headstrong young girl. Pushed against a wall she would fight back with a ruthlessness that belied her age and her looks. In short, Cassie Reynolds was not a young lady to be trifled with.

The end of the first month of investigation had Cutter excited but his enthusiasm was tineged with more than a bit of worry. Both Farrow and Ruff had gotten excellent results. Things were far better than he could have hoped. Both The Girl and The Boy undeniably possessed an uncommon talent. They were intelligent and their intelligence was unhampered by experience. A pair of blank slates. They seemed content to continue the battery of tests without complaint. A few more weeks of what Cutter considered conditioning was needed. Then they could begin the real work of putting them towards gathering usable intelligence that could be acted upon.

It was going to be tricky though. A standard intelligence asset could be used to gather information. In most cases they had at least some idea of what type of information was being sought. Many times they were eager to report developments they considered crucial. It was important to maintain their morale, encouraging them with rewards and motivating them with threats. These kids would have to be used differently.

“These kids will be flying blind,” Cutter said. He had taken to having length meetings with Farrow and Ruff after every session. The discussions grew heated. They were in unknown territory here.

“How is that going to work?” Farrow objected. “The whole idea of the thing is to get exact information that can be used immediately. Suppose we use them to view a place and all we get back is a report on the weather or the flowers or something totally unusable? They’ve got to be told what we’re looking for.”

“Are you going to trust a couple of kids with Top Secret information?” Cutter replied. “Then what? Turn them loose to go play on the playground after they’ve just viewed a missile site?” He shook his head. “The trick is going to be focusing them without revealing anything.”