A man emerged from one of the hangars about sixty feet away from them. He was wearing black and gray like Annike, Jakob, and Ronan, though he was also wearing a helmet and thick gloves. He waved the group on, although Annike and Jakob stayed with the jet for now. 

The heat seeped out of Marjorie's feet as she treaded across the frozen tarmac. The man in the black helmet, who looked to be about 6'5 as she approached, opened a small door in the side of the building for the three of them. Jim was filming, although he was being careful not to include any of the Geese in his shots. 

They were led down a bare battleship-gray hall to an elevator. "It must have aken forever for them to dig out this compound," Ronan commented. "This place is huge." Stepping into the elevator, which was starkly white, she noticed it had buttons for six levels. 

"We've been all over the place, and there's no one here. The computers are stripped bare -- components are here, but no software and no way to tell what was on the drives before." Ronan paused as the elevator doors opened onto another stark hall way. It resembled nothing so much as a hospital corridor, you notice. Few pictures adorned the walls, except for a few pastel Impressionist prints. Another helmeted figure waited outside a door further down the carpeted hall, with what looked like a tricorder in his hand. The passages were so long that it was difficult to gauge distances along them. Leading her into the guarded room, Ronan completed his previous thought. "There isn't anything here which can pinpoint figures, but what we think is that this is where the Sentinels were actually artificially aged and given memories." 

"What makes you think that?" she asked. 

Ronan gestured at the room they were in now. It looked like a giant nursery, although there wre several large video surveillance cameras here. "There's a room like this on each of the six levels," he explained. "There are also living quarters, a gym, and training areas for paranormal abilities. A danger room, if you will." He picked up a teddy bear which was sitting in a rocking chair next to her. "These cameras feed into a main observation area. It's frustrating, not having any records to examine, though. But our theory is that the Sentinels were brought to be raised here. There are toys which represent all stages of life from this" he held up the teddy bear, "To board games and more. Right now we're wondering if the artificial memories that we believe the Sentinels were given were supplemented with 'real' ones. Maybe that would cement the process further or better. Like I said, it's only a theory. Those computers were degaussed when the base was abandoned. Which doesn't look like it was too long ago, given the state of things." 

As Ronan was talking, Jim had recorded the room. After Jim was satisfied, Ronan gestured them on, back into the hallway. "When we contacted you, we were more optimistic about recovering data from the computers. I'm sorry that there isn't more to give you on this. As it is, there's nothing nefarious about the existence of this site at all. I'm sure it would be more than simple to explain this base as some sort of light deprivation experiment thing or something. But it's interesting, in an eerie sort of way. Let me show you some of the 'teenage' rooms." The three of them walked down the hall about fifty feet in silence. In the distance, she thought she could hear laughter and talking. 

Inside the room, posters of the Avengers hung on the walls next to a supermodel calendar. A wooden desk sat before a "window," which looked out onto a suburban street. Holographic technology, Marjorie speculated, not dissimilar to her father's. Soft light filtered through the curtains. There were pictures of a young, dark haired boy with his family and Airedale, as well as a prom picture. "That's Titan!" she exclaimed, recognizing the Sentinel she'd met when doing battle with Mechanon and his robots in front of Lutheran Brothers Hospital in Hudson City. 

"That's what it's like on all the levels," Ronan told her. "Pictures of families, pets, friends. Everything to make it look like a real life." He gestured towards the wall. She noticed certificates of merit, an Eagle Scout certificate, and a framed letter. Looking more closely, she saw that it was a letter commending the heroic efforts of the young Derek Thompson when he rescued his neighbor's toddler from a house fire in 1990. Looking at the signature, she saw it was written by Robert Kaufman, the first Golden Avenger. 

"It's amazing," she told Ronan. "How could they do this?" Something catched her eye, as she noticed something sticking out from under the boy's dresser. "What's this?" She stooped to pick up the object. "It looks like a diary," Jim commented. 

It was a diary. The entries were in a neat hand, though occured at wide intervals, usually about three years apart. Flipping to the end, it read: 

July 24, 1991  

Well, the time has finally come for me to leave! I can't believe I was accepted to Stanford, but Mom says she expected it all along. I was scared, though, that I wouldn't get accepted anywhere, even with my football record. Anyway, they've got a great political science department. I know Brad thinks it's silly, but I think it'd be great to get involved in politics when I'm older. Maybe even Senator when I'm older!  

Clarissa is upset that I'm going so far away, but I'll visit when I can. She's going to stay here in Phoenix. She's worried that I'll see other girls, I guess.  

I talked to a PRIMUS agent yesterday, too! He was telling me about their his training. I know Mom might not want me to be involved in anything dangerous -- look at how worried she was when I broke my leg last year in the championship game -- but I think PRIMUS might be something to consider after college. I have time to worry about it later. 

It was hard to talk for a moment after reading the entry. The sick feeling in her stomach reminded her that there were sometimes stories that she didn't want to cover. Behind her, Jim was still filming, but Ronan stepped up to her. "What is it, then?" he asked softly, touching her shoulder. She handed him the diary, and he quickly flipped through it. "Jesus," he muttered as he finished the entry. 

"I'm going to film some of the other rooms," Jim said as he finished taking shots of the pictures and certificates. He closed the door behind him. There was a poster of New Order on the back of the door. 

Marjorie sat down on the edge of Titan's bed, closed her eyes and, tried to think for a few moments. The moment she read that entry in Titan's diary, it felt like her stomach had dropped through the floor and she could feel the tears start to well up in her eyes. 

I'm not going to cry, she thought to herself. I'm not going to cry, she thought as she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to concentrate on what was going on here. Sometimes I wish I had just stayed behind the camera like Jim. When you're working camera, you don't really think about exactly what you're filming. Your mind goes into overdrive and all your thinking about is lighting, focus, avoiding color saturation, framing the image. What your looking at really doesn't sink in.  

But no. I had to have a job in front of the camera so I could spend minutes, sometimes hours thinking about what I am doing. Agonizing over every little word and image of what were going to show. Sometimes I don't like my job. This is a day I hate it.  

I hate it and I hate those men who could do something so despicable that surely God is weeping at the depravity of it. 

"I hate you Col. Avery Vasquez. I hate you and I hate Robert Kaufman too and I think I can safely say I'll carry that feeling with me to the grave," she muttered opening her eyes. 

She looked at the diary still in Ronan's hand. 

"Of course, if they really did use a personality transfer device and used some of the memories from the current Silver Avengers, perhaps they were worried that some of those Avengers would recognize the events. Maybe realize that the Sentinels have a lot more in common with them than they should."   She was thinking out loud. It helped keep her mind on the problem and keep her emotions in check. 

She glanced over at Ronan. "I don't think I ever told you about that personality device. You may already know this since obviously you've got pretty good sources with info on PRIMUS." Actually very good sources, I wonder whose giving the Wild Geese all this info? "Well, anyways. With help from Eleanor I was able to get a copy of a PRIMUS report on this project." To save some time, plus since she didn't have that report right in front of her, she gave Ronan a verbal synopsis of what the report said. 

"I know the report won't stack up in a court of law. Anyone with a good laser printer could design a fake report. But, if there is this one report I'm betting there's more." 

"I was hoping that press conference would give me the chance to sneak around PRIMUS. I know if I could get in their computer rooms and access their computers that are walled off from the net I could find out more. With a satellite link-up to Eleanor she could probably help me crack most of their security programs. The only problem is how to get in," she said, tapping her lip with a finger. 

"Maybe if I talk to Christine she can help me. I know her and she would never countenance what PRIMUS did to the Sentinels. All I need is for someone to give me a hint at where their security is the weakest. The problem is I don't know what to do with this info if I ever get it. I mean what PRIMUS is doing is inhuman. But throwing it into the public arena is going to hurt the Sentinels.  How would anyone react if they learned there entire life was a sham? At first I thought I would take this to a Senate Congressional committee. But, I don't even know if that's a good idea anymore. A committee would drag this out forever and would they really even do anything. In the meantime the Sentinels who have already been victimized once get nailed again. I trust Christine and the Golden Avenger is OK. But do the good guys in PRIMUS have enough power to remove the bad guys? I just don't know. Truth is, I'm not sure where I'm going with this anymore," she said looking at Ronan. 

"I wonder why they didn't let them keep some of this stuff?" she said, gesturing around the room. "You'd think that want them to have it to reinforce those memories." 

"Unless they didn't know about it," Ronan responded, sitting on the twin bed next to her. "He may have kept it hidden all along. This would definitely be good evidence to convince him, at least." 

"Maybe," she answered. "But he didn't seem like a receptive sort of person when I met him." Bigoted and sexist maybe, she thought, remembering Titan's attitudes of "chivalry." 

Ronan sighed. "This really isn't the sort of work we normally do at all. We're not even getting paid for it." He ran a black-gloved hand through his thick hair. It needs to be cut, she thought suddenly, watching him. It's curling at the edges. 

"Then why?" she asked. That was strange. This operation must have cost a fortune in manpower and fuel alone. Not to mention the federal regulations that have been broken.  "One of the team is a former PRIMUS, ah, agent,", he said. "I believe you know him, although it certainly isn't my place to tell his story." 

"Not Falswell or Armstrong!" she exclaimed, interrupting him and standing up. She did manage not to growl, though she hadn't forgotten being humiliated on T.V. or the lost job at CNN. Ronan worked with one of those creeps? 

"Well," Ronan started, looking up at you. Cerulean blue, she thought. That was the color of his eyes. He doesn't finish what he was about to say, but held out one of his hands and pulled her onto his lap. She realized that today she'd spent more time with him at a stretch than she'd ever had in the year previously. Kissing him, she forgit about PRIMUS and Avengers and Sentinels. 

Breaking off, Ronan said, "I was thinking that after we're done here we could spend some time in Ireland, maybe a week. I could show you the horses and you could see your father. Can you do that?" 

"I have a few more things to finish with on the interviews for CBS, but if I sit down and work on it, it shouldn't take longer than a day to wrap up." she responded. "Is that okay?" Aware that he was changing the subject, she ignored it for now. She could always ask in Ireland. 

"Sure," he said, setting her back on your feet. "That's okay." Standing himself, he straightened his uniform jacket. The material was interesting, a sort of composite material that she was unfamiliar with. It was warm to the touch, and had a slight sheen to it. 

"We've been all over this base now," Ronan told you, his voice back to business. "If you want to wander around, I'm sure you're safe. Of course, you're probably safer than anyone else here." 

Since exploring further was her thought, too, she turned to open the door. On impulse, though, she turned around and kissed him again. He seemed startled, although he responded. "What are my parents going to say when I bring you home?" he asked. "Are you at least Catholic?" 

Parting company (which at this stage may as well require a crowbar), she headed back towards the elevator to explore further. From what she could tell, Ronan was right, and all six levels were just about the same. Nurseries, playrooms, and bedrooms. There was only one level, the fourth, which also contained a control room and what looked to be (from her best science-fiction-movie-watching guess) cloning tanks. Idly she attempted to boot the computer, but she had no luck at all -- on examination she found the hard drives have been completely removed. 

"Figures," she muttered. Of course the only time the federal government had been efficient, and it's for this. 

Continuing to look for clues, she wandered through the facility. On several occasions she ran across Jim filming. She also passed members of the Wild Geese, helmeted and in body armor. They were wearing the same black and gray outfits that she saw Ronan, Annike and Jakob in as well. Though impossible to judge expressions with their helmets on, she got the feeling that she was being regarded with curiosity. One Goose went so far as to stop and bow slightly to her in the corridor. If that's Armstrong, she thought, I'll kill him. 

She hadn't found anything else of note, really, excluding photos, when she decided to try to find Ronan again. The fact she hadn't come across anything else like a diary lent itself to his theory about their having missed it. It was really the only concrete thing you have -- she hadn't turned up anything like a hairbrush and photos were hardly conclusive. She'd had another idea, too -- if Titan went to college in 1991, then he could have graduated in 1994 or 5, depending on his course of study and how motivated he was. It certainly would be more prudent for him to have real friends, anyway, like college buddies that he'd be able to call than a totally fake past. She made a mental note to check on Titan -- Derek Thompson-- and his Stanford career when she returned to civilization. Well, maybe after she returned from Ireland. 

Just like a teeny bopper, her heart skipped. Finally, a chance to get to know Ronan. (And find out if she was really in love or  just hormones.) If she worked really hard on the interviews, what she told Ronan was true, and she'd be able to leave in a day. (Of course she'd have to convince Jim to work hard, too, but she didn't think he'd mind. Ever since she started giving him more freedom he had become more and more interested in her projects.) She had wanted to talk to Christine, but she was not going to be back in Hudson City for another week and a half anyway. It was doubtful that the guys would miss her too much, and besides, they ought to be busy trying to keep "Solitaire Hawks" from being released. 

She was crossing through a corridor on the third floor when she heard a voice coming from one of the bedrooms she'd already searched. 

"How is Ed?" the voice asked. It was s a gravelly voice, and she was positive it was Kevin Armstrong's. 

"Kevin, I told you, she's fine," a woman's exasperated voice answered. "I didn't bear her in my body for nine months and not know when she isn't sick. She's well enough to be driving Dona Michaela quite mad. Don't worry about her -- she's two and two-year-olds fall down and cut themselves. Even your relatively impervious daughter does. Just finish up and meet us in San Francisco tonight. Hopefully we'll still make the play." 

Huh? she thought. This was odd, and for a variety of reasons. Looking both ways down the hallway, she stepped closer to the door and peered in. Kevin Armstrong had his back to you, and looked to be talking into a suitcase. Except that a woman's body was partially sticking out of the suitcase. She almost sighed out loud. More of her dad's hologram technology. It seemed to be cropping up everywhere -- VIPER, PRIMUS, and now the Wild Geese. 

The woman's image shifted suddenly as her perspective changes. The colors weren't perfect and were more tinted shades of gray than true colors, though she could tell she had a mass of long, curly hair and is wearing a dark business suit. She looked pretty but tired. In the background she saw a panoramic view of the East Bay Area. She must be in a high rise in the financial district, Marjorie thought, to get the view behind her. 

"How much longer is the conference going to last?" he asked her, and laughed at her exaggerated expression. 

"I hope it doesn't last much longer. I'm ready to quit. Akira Irigoshi insulted just about everyone at the meeting deliberately, then positively glowed when I had to interpret. You wouldn't have believed the responses I had to interpret back. I personally think no one th ought I knew those words," she told him. 

"And," she added, "I had to take the dogs to the vet, because it was Emile's day off. Also, the Harley  place called and left a message saying some part is in for your motorcycle. And, there's-" 

"They finally got the parts in?" Armstrong's voice became more animated as he interrupted the woman. "About time." 

There was a high-pitched beeping sound coming from the room now. The woman in the hologram looked down. "I guess lunch is over," she smiled ruefully. "I have to run back to the trade conference. Trust me, Ed is fine. Cymbeline starts at 8. Get here by 6. I haven't seen you in over a week, you know. And do fly safely," she smiled as the image faded. 

She wasn't not sure, but she thought she may have heard him say "I love you," after she faded off the screen. As he packed the equipment back up, she beat a hasty retreat. After all, it was one thing to talk to him about being a jerk when he was escaping from prison, but it was another thing to listen to his conversation with his girlfriend or wife without his knowledge. 

Finding Ronan at last, she was able to leave. She and Jim flew back to the east coast with Annike, Jakob, and Ronan. Jim stayed awake and flirted with Annike for the duration of the flight, ousting Jakob from the co-pilot's seat. Though Marjorie and Ronan managed to talk about your upcoming trip somewhat, Ronan also explained to Jakob what she found in Titan's room. Ronan's manner was easy with Jakob, who seemed to relax in his presence and was more than civil with Marjorie, asking about her travels in Europe (after Ronan brought it up) Nothing seemed to faze him, except maybe her, she thought smugly. 

She was exhausted. This had been a hell of a weekend and Monday, and now she was taking off for Europe in a couple of days. Dozing off in the stuffed sofa in the main cabin, she reflected on what was odd about what she overheard. First, Christine told her Avengers couldn't have children. Second, Armstrong hardly struck her as the family man type. Third, what kind of psychopath would name a girl Ed?