The outer room is completely dark and deadly quiet when Mira, Martin, and Captain Rosenberg exit the small lab, climbing over boxes to stand amongst the shelves. "This is what you were trying to keep me out of?" Isaac asks sarcastically. "I think the biggest danger is that I'd trip over some boxes."

"Actually," Martin replies quietly, "It was somewhat unpleasant individuals who were loading those boxes in here that we were trying to avoid," he indicates the new arrivals."

"Stafford," he continues softly, "Would you please check the other door and make sure they're out of range?"

"Sure," she says cautiously moving through the boxes over to the door. "Be careful, there's some really bad stubbed toes waiting to happen here."

Leaning in, she plasters an ear to the door.

"So, any ideas about how to get out of here?" she asks in a hushed whisper. "Unless that truck is still around, were going to have to find our own transportation back to our little hole out of this cavern."

"Well," Martin muses, "If the semi's still out there we can try and catch a ride back out with it If not..." he shrugs, "I think we're about to the point in a bad action film where the villains make some critical blunder and provide us with a means of escape...."

Pausing at the door, Isaac listens to Martin musing. Well, he thinks to himself, things are not even remotely like what I expected to them to be from recovering aboard a hospital ship. No rocking, or rolling on the high seas.

"Maybe we should take this one step at time," he says to the other two. "What can we expect to find out there? Are we in some sort of basement? How did you get down here and where is the way out?"

"In general," Martin answers, shifting the pack with the box on it a bit to get a better fit. "We're underground - about a hundred miles from nowhere. In specific, outside this door is a corridor that continues around a corner to our right - we didn't go around it so I'm not positive, but I think it goes deeper into the storage areas. To the left is a short length of corridor and some doors that lead out onto a loading dock. If we're really lucky, the truck we hitched a ride in on is still there."

"If it isn't," he continues, "we're in a lot of trouble. We rode down a pretty good sized tunnel for ten, maybe fifteen miles to get here, and I can't see us making it back out without being spotted." He looks over at Mira and shakes his head, "And I don't think Mira could make it on foot even if we escaped detection."

"The main underground road we came in on stretches even further back into this complex," Mira says, stepping back away from the door. "I know there is at least one more populated area. There was a sign that marked another area further on. Also when we came in we passed a guard station. So, we'll have to deal with that."

"If we make it out of the underground portion of this facility," she continues, "we have at least a 10-mile hike back to our vehicle - if it's still there - and a 100 mile plus trip back to civilization."

"Martin, when we came in, you mentioned seeing some big construction type trucks. Do you think we might be able to find them and catch a ride out?"

"Not sure - they were on the surface, not down here, and I'd hate to be counting on them and not have them be there for us," her partner replies.

"Maybe I should trying scouting out the area we came from," Mira suggests. "I can hear if anyone is coming and hurry back here if I need to. If I could get a look in that loading dock area, I'd have a good idea if there are any vehicles or people around. That might help us formulate a plan on getting out here."

"If I get caught, they will probably believe I got in here alone. I kind of have a history of breaking and entering," she says.

Martin opens his mouth to speak, looks at Mira, and sighs. "I'm not going to fght you on it Mira, God knows you'll be able to hear and see then farther away than I can. But it's only on one condition Stafford - that you stop volenteering to be a hero. Heroes die."

"No problem," Mira says, shucking off her pack to give her a little more freedom of movement. "I'm just volunteering to be sneak. No hero work required. See you in a few."

With that she carefully moves over to the door. She listens one more time to make sure all is clear and then carefully cracks the door open.

The hallway in front of her is empty; in the distance -- down the hall and around the corner -- she can hear arguing. As she slips through the door, Isaac follows, only inches behind her.

Great she thinks, I've got a shadow the size of a linebacker. All right, don't focus on him, focus on what's going on, she tells herself.

Quietly she moves forward a little bit, trying to hear what the arguement is about.

Isaac moves too quickly; Mira hears the displaced air as his fist rises to smack her on the back of the head, but has no time to move, and she slumps unconscious from the force of the blow. "Come on," he says to Martin. "She's only going to get us in more trouble. Let's get out of here." He picks up Mira's pack, and begins moving towards the swing doors.

A quick glance through the Plexiglass reveals the docking bay; the engine of the semi is revving up. "This looks good enough," Isaac says, darting through the doors and under the tarp.

A moment later, Martin slides under the tarp after him, wincing as the box gouges into his side painfully. "Please tell me you hit her a bit lighter than you did me," he questions as he rearranges the tarp where they'd entered. "I don't even want to think about what my boss is going to say if I bring her home with a skull fracture...."

"It was just a love tap," Isaac says with a grin. "I've been strong all my life, I know how to use it." He shakes his head and looks at Martin. "What the devil was she thinking, wandering off like that? Blasted females, always sticking their noses into things they shouldn't and getting in trouble."

Oh boy, Martin thinks, are you in for a serious shock once we get out of here. "She's been a reporter too long I think - can't resist a chance to get the next story."

"Once we get out of here, keep a look out for something that looks like a roadsign on your side that reads 'NSI 42 - 8, NSI 61 - 129' - that's where we get off."

"Sure thing," Isaac responds. A minute later, the truck lurches forward, and begins to move out. After reaching what Martin remembers as being around the check point, the truck accelerates quickly.

***

Mira regains consciousness just as Isaac and Martin are leaping from the truck, which is now moving around 60. For whatever reason -- policy or luck -- the deuces aren't providing escort on the way out, but the men quickly make their way back into the shadows, and up the ladder.

"Let me get the hatch open," Martin says from atop the ladder, and then pass the box on up."

"Would someone please stop the room from spinning," Mira says, wincing. "I think my head is going to explode." Struggling she tries to get her bearings. "Would someone please explain why I got cold-cocked back there."

From above her in the darkness, Martin's voice answers, "I couldn't find a barn."

"I was just swatting a fly?" Isaac says sheepishly. "Actually, I'm still not sure what is going on around here, and once I realized you were going to go charging off into the dark, I had to act. Sorry for the headache, they generally clear up in about a day or two."

"A day or two?!" Mira exclaims. "Oww. Owww that hurt. No loud noises. No sudden moves. OK, Ok, I heard two men arguing in the hall. I wanted to get a little closer so I could hear what it was about. I was hoping we might get information. Maybe something more about this plot against the Golden Avenger. That's why I went off in the dark."

Groaning she hauls herself up. "Oh this is going to hurt and I'm going to complain all the way back to the car," she says, grumbling.

"I'll believe the part about no loud noises when I see it," Martin replies easily, helping Mira out of the hatch with a concern that belies his words. "You haven't been quiet for more than twenty mnutes since I met you - including when you're asleep."

Mira snorts. "I do not talk in my sleep. Besides I think you should be nice to me right now, I'm the one who got beat up on this mission. I've broken a couple of ribs, been exposed to a good dose of radiation from that box and now whonked on the head."

Martin smiles at her as he waits for Isaac to exit the hatch before closing it and locking it down again. "I am being nice to you - I haven't said 'I told you so' once... so far."

"The Golden Avenger?" Isaac says, stepping out into the bright Nevada sun. "Sounds like a bad radio show."

Mira giggles at Isaac's comment. "No, umm, while I imagine there are days when he thinks he's in a bad radio drama, he's a real person. He's like you. He can do special things. He's super strong, punch tanks out and the like. He works with the Silver Avengers. They put on tights and fight crime."

"Say, where the heck are we?" Isaac says temporarily blinded by the light. "Punch tanks out, why in the world would you want to do that?" he directs toward Mira." "Isn't that why God made recoilless rifles? Hmm... I'll have to try to give Mom a call; I'm sure she is worried sick about me."

Martin winces a bit, and glances over at Isaac. Marvelous timing Mira - I really don't think we want to have the 'fifty years in the future' conversation right now, he thinks to himself. Better change this subject fast. "Captain?" he asks, nodding towards Mira. "If you can get her, we need to be moving quickly - they'll figure out something was amiss eventually and I want to be long gone when they do..."

"You would want to punch out a tank if bad guys were using it to hurt people," Mira says, starting off walking. "The Golden Avenger, well I guess the closest thing to him was Captain America in the comic books." She keeps talking as she moves down the trail, "I guess the best way to think of it is that comic books have come to life."

***

Two miles into their hike, Mira really started to regret that she had ever agreed to go on his mission. Four miles in, with the sun beating down on her, an aching head and ribs that were screaming in pain, she decided that it was probably the second stupidest thing that she had ever done in her life. The status of stupidest thing ever done was still reserved for the one June weekend in 1994.

"Well Martin," she gets out through clenched teeth. "How do you think we are going to explain all of this to Armitage and still keep our jobs. I mean we set out on a simple mission and then stop a mob hit, have to secure another vehicle, I get myself beaten up and we show up with a gradiose story about a plot to kill the Golden Avenger. I've heard that temporary insanity is a good plea."

"Rarely works," he replies in an even voice. "Almost no one even tries anymore unless they've got the money to buy about a thousand experts like DuPont did a while back." He pauses, then adds, "Sure you don't want to let Isaac help you out?"

"I can walk," she says though breathing heavy. "I guess this is just one of life's little learning experiences."

Mira struggles down a hill of loose granite shoal. "Though I don't know why I'm worrying about that. We haven't reached the car yet. For all we know it could have been towed. I'm also concerned that it may have been tampered with. We'll have to check it if it's still there. Any idea what to do if it's not?"

"Keep walking until we move into range of a cellular net," Martin sighs. "If that's the case, I'm going to be really pissed though - Dorothy loves that octopus."

Wincing, as she carefully picks her way through the brush, Mira changes the subject, "So Capt. Rosenberg, have you always been as strong as an ox, or is that a side effect of being in the alien capsule?"

"Nope, I've always been as strong as an ox," Isaac says with a boyish grin and a twang of a Brooklyn accent. "I was a great linebacker in high school."

Oh I'll bet, Martin thinks. I'm sure all the other kids really had a chance... you were probably only benching Buicks then. Hmmm I wonder if he really knows how powerful he is? Might be worth it to let Mira poke him a few more times and see if he says anything useful....

Mira turns red, remembering her thoughts back in the hallway. Luckily the exertion of the hike makes it impossible to tell why she is beet red.

"I think strong as an ox is an understatement," Mira huffs, trying to cover her embarrassment. "I've never seen anyone but a paranormal crush a gun. You must have been hell on wheels with your unit. "

"Let's just say I was an asset to the Corps," Isaac replies. "Paranormal? Never heard the term. Where are we? " he says with some annoyance. "I don't think I'm in Korea, at least my orientation didn't mention sagebrush and wild asses in the desert. Israel? The Gobi, more like it. They couldn't have moved me too far in just a few hours unless they flew me out."

Please be quiet Mira, Martin thinks at her, as if trying to force the thoughts into her head by power of will alone. For God's sakes, don't start this now - we'll never get away if he freaks and can't handle what happened to him.

"Nope we're not in the Gobi," Mira wearily replies. "Welcome to the wonders of the Great Basin desert. Watch out for rattlesnakes, old mines and junked cars."

Oh God, here we go, Martin thinks resignedly. I wonder if I can actually survive this if he loses it?

***

After a laborious hike, the trio arrives back at the camp -- sweaty and exhausted, it's all Mira can do to not to collapse. Isaac appears shocked at the sight of the Subaru, though the comment he opened his mouth to make is cut short by a woman's voice.

"About time you showed up," a very attractive blond woman says, sitting up from where she'd been reclining in the driver's seat. "Salt Lake City is a long drive from here, and Mr. Armitage was starting to get worried. Get in and let's get out of here before you draw any more attention to yourselves. I had a hell of a time convincing some 'BLM officials' that you two were just out collecting rock samples."

"Salt Lake City," Isaac says to himself, "so, Utah, Nevada? at least I'm in the good old USA. I must have been asleep for longer then I thought."

A whole lot longer, Martin thinks to himself. I hope you're strong enough to make the adjustment Isaac... because if you can't, then it's going to be really ugly.

The face is all-American, but the voice is all Tran's. She sounds characteristically annoyed as she asks, "Who's this? Let me guess...he followed you back, and now you want to keep him?" She turns over the engine of the Subaru.

"And you, Martin," she says, "Give me your gun. I don't want any repeats of Reno in Mormon country. If I hear of any more bullshit, I'll beat your ass into a bloody pulp myself and there won't be much left of it to heal back."

Martin looks at the blonde woman for a moment, and then, with the very calm and deliberate movements of someone who has seen too many strange things in too short a time smiles pleasantly, "Of course, Tran," and steps forward, reaching into his vest. "Here you go," he finishes, carefully depositing the remains of the Browning in her lap. "Nice 'do," he adds calmly, "but I think I liked it better the other way."

Mira shuts her mouth that had been hanging open for a few a seconds and quickly puts her pack in the back seat.

"You must have a hell of a time shopping for clothes Tran," Mira says, easing carefully into the back seat on the driver's side. "I have enough trouble trying to find one pair of jeans that fits just my body type. I can't imagine trying to find some for a few different sizes."

"I can write this trip off on my taxes," Tran says glibly. "But there's a reason why I have so many pairs of sweats."

Turning to Isaac, Martin asks, "Isaac? Can you give me a hand with the box here? I need to get to the First Aid kit in the back before Mira passes out on us."

Isaac is staring at the car. "Neat-o!" he exclaims. "Does it fly?"

Martin starts to reply, then pauses. No, he thinks, better save the flip replies for later - this is going to be hard enough as it is. "No," he answers, "it's just a car." Moving to the rear, he begins slipping out of the packframe, "Umm... Isaac? Could I get a hand here?"

"Uh, sure," he says, easily picking up the box and putting it into the back which Tran has now remotely hatched.)

Settling into the back seat, Mira lets out a groan. "It feels great to just sit down."

"A-hem?" Tran clears her throat pointedly. "Who is your little friend here?"

"I'm not little, ma'am," Isaac says, moving over to the driver's door, and leaning over her with a grin. "Name's Isaac Rosenberg. And whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"The guy with us is Isaac Rosenberg," Mira says, closing her eyes. "We found him on some sort of cold sleep in an alien capsule inside an old research room that had been closed up. Here," she says, opening her eyes and pulling out the notebook, "This will probably explain it easier than anything else."

"Yah, and my Aunt May is the Easter Bunny too." Isaac looks bemused by the Mira's statement. "Look no kidding, if I'm back in America, I need to contact the closest Marine Base and let them know I'm okay. I'm sure there'll be hell to pay for my absence. I just don't want to be marked AWOL, especially with a war, er, police action going on. I'm not sure how to explain me showing back up in the States," he trails off.

"Police action?" Tran mutters from the front seat. "Oh, Jesus."

"We've also got to get in contact with the Golden Avenger as soon as possible. Avery Vasquez is plotting to kill him by using VIPER."

"Martin can tell you everything," Mira says, closing her eyes. "I just need to get some rest and then I can help." She lets out a little sigh and lays down in the back seat.

Tran shoots Martin a "look" and opens her mouth to speak, before her features are contorted in pain. "Get in the car, NOW!" she says through gritted teeth. "We have maybe five minutes before the goons get back, and if we're not out of here by then, things are going to get ugly. Move!"

Martin nods, opening the off-side passenger door for Isaac, "Introductions on the run Isaac - let's go."

Slipping into the front seat, he eyes Tran as they pull out, "Are you all right?" he asks quietly.

"I'm fine," she says, though her face belies her words. "I'd be much happier if I hadn't spent so much time in the past couple days cleaning up after the two of you, though." She says more quietly, "Your Mafia gun man is quite alive and recuperating in Washoe Medical Center in Reno, I thought you'd like to know. I think you can expect one of Armitage's stern fatherly lectures when we get back to San Francisco. Just say 'yes, sir' periodically for the duration and you'll be OK."

Martin nods, then asks, "Likely problems? With the gunman I mean - I've been lectured before." He pauses a moment, then adds, "You're sure? I'm not tired if you'd rather let me drive until that stops bothering you?"

"I don't know if they'll be able to ID you or not," Tran says, as they bump along the dirt road. "I doubt it, but sometimes the Mafia is surprisingly resourceful. They're probably hand-in-glove with Reno law enforcement anyway -- through the legitimacy of the casino industry -- so that may pose a problem. We'll put out feelers, but our resources aren't as all-powerful as we'd like."

"Then I'll worry about it when it comes up I guess," he sighs. "How are Dorothy and my Mom doing? We've been out of touch for a day or two."

"They're fine," she responds. "I checked on them before I left yesterday. You may want to send them away for a few weeks until we know what the situation is with Guido. Please," she says in a low, sultry voice, "Don't ever shoot anyone, even mobsters, in view of video cameras or witnesses again. I don't care if you kill them, just don't leave any evidence that could be traced back to us, OK? That would really make me happy," she finishes with a grin.

Martin shakes his head, "They were idiots - they just walked out of the elevators and started blazing away like we were in Dodge City or something. Even the gang-bangers know enough to look for something to hide behind." He sighs, "If I'd been alone, maybe it's have been different, but with Stafford and that damn showgirl there I didn't feel like I had a choice."

Pausing a moment, his mouth quirks into the faintest hint of a grin, "Of course, since you asked so politely... next time I'll just run away."

"Thank you," Tran says, and reaches out a hand to pinch Martin's cheek -- and does so with the expertise of a maiden aunt. "Good boy!"

AI Inc.'s office manager guns the car once they reach I-80, and quickly they reach Tran's cruising speed of 95.

"OK, we have several hours before we reach Salt Lake," Tran says a few minutes later, cresting Emigrant Peak, "Where we'll meet our jet back to San Francisco. Could someone please explain to me who he is, where you found him, and what's in that notebook? Did you get what you came for, anyway?" She clicks on a tape recorder on the dash. "This counts as debriefing, in any case. Oh!" she adds, "Don't worry about the bugs the 'BLM officials' left behind. I already trashed those." She opens the ashtray in the Legacy to show them a small, melted pile of metal and electronics. "They were quite thorough, I must say I was impressed."

"Ma'am," Isaac begins, sounding somewhat annoyed, "I told you that I'm -"

"Yes, yes," the woman says impatiently, honking at a slow Idaho station wagon crawling along. "You're Isaac Rosenberg, police action jarhead-boy. Got that. I want to hear their side now."

Well, we're not going to put this off much longer, Martin thinks. "Isaac," he says with a touch of resignation, "I promise you that I will do answer all of the questions you've got to the best of my ability - but please, let me get this done first, all right?"

"Sure thing," Rosenberg says, looking over Tran's shoulder at the digital displays on the dashboard with interest.

Mira's eyes are closed for only a moment before Martin's voice interrupts her, "No sleep for the weary, Stafford - I hate to do this to you now that you're almost comfortable, but you need to wake back up long enough for the debriefing."

A disgruntled and very sleepy voice of Mira answers back something unintelligible. It sounds like, "It's not time to get up yet, Mrgsgsg, Sunday, I get to sleep late mrgghhh. Feed the sheep yourself."

Sighing a bit, Martin leans back over the seat, "Let her sleep for now. We need to have her ribs looked at as soon as possible though Tran - I think she's broken one or two of them."

Tran exhales loudly. "Hm," she says. "I would really prefer not to stop in Elko, it's too close. Do you think she can handle waiting until Salt Lake?"

"I think so - but I'm no doctor," Martin adds, eyeing the rear-view mirror to check on Mira and Isaac. "It seems to bother her the most when she's active, so this ought to be okay for a while."

"Well," she says, "We'll do the best we can. Let's get your side of the story, anyway, while she rests."

Mira's eyes snap open and she shoots Martin a weary look. "Tran does not need to stop this car. I'll do fine until we get back to San Francisco. It's too noisy in here to sleep anyway," she sighs, sitting up.

Mira suddenly launches into an explanation of what had happened in the last few hours, "We got in by crawling through some sort of venting area and then hitched a ride on a semi carrying stuff into the facility. When we came to a stop at a loading area, a couple of people got out of the semi and the cars that were accompanying it. I could here them talking. One was Avery Vasquez.

"When the semi came to a stop we waited til the coast was clear and then made a run for a hallway off the main dock. While we were in the hallway Vasquez and a woman came back, we ducked into the closest room. When they went past I heard Vasquez talking about his plot to kill the Golden Avenger. It seems the Golden Avenger is getting in Vasquez's way. He's going to leak some information to VIPER and have them do the dirty work. Then with the Golden Avenger out of the way he's going to use his death to weasel more money out of Congress.

"Martin found the box stored in that room. But before we could leave, they started moving boxes into the room we were in. We ducked into an adjoining room.

"Well, there we found Rosenberg here sleeping in a black capsule that had a ton of strange silvery letters, symbols, on it. I didn't recognize any of the symbols on it and it looked alien to me. The capsule was being stored in a lab that looked like it hadn't been used in a while from the dust on everything. There was also a calendar on the wall that dated from 1954. Anyway the capsule had a strange green glow to it. When Martin was looking at it he was able to trigger it to open and Rosenberg here woke up."

Mira takes a breath, breaking the fast moving cadence of her explanation, "I found a lab notebook on what appears the be the project that was going on. We think they were using Isaac's DNA along with some other alien DNA to concoct what would eventually become the Cyberline treatment. We brought the lab book and I copied down some of that strange alien writing on the capsule back. We couldn't leave Isaac sitting there all alone. They might have done something terrible with him. We had to get him out. He just doesn't believe us when we tell him this is 1997."

"Oh They moved the project in 1954 to Groom Lake and it sounds like a Dr. Julius Merrill was in charge or at least involved," Mira adds.

Martin sighs, and shakes his head, waiting for the explosion to come.

While Tran starts slightly at the name of Julius Merrill, Isaac, who was staring out the window at the strange vehicle, starts when Mira mentions 1997. This is the first time he had heard the date. "You know, I would think this is a dream, but there are just to many details. The number and types of cars, the small changes in the language..." he trails off. "The way I see it there are two possibilities here. First, this is actually 1997 and I've been sleeping in that capsule for the last 44 years or this is an enemy trick and all of you are attempting to use me for some purpose. I would start trying to convince me of the former possibility in a real hurry." Isaac smiles grimly at Mira and Martin.

"Isaac..." Martin sighs, unsure of where to begin. This all looks so much easier when they do it in the movies, he thinks to himself. "Rather than blather for fifteen minutes and do nothing more than frustrate you, and get my head pounded in when you lose your temper, let me ask you this: What would convince you that you had just gotten up after a 40-odd year nap? What would it take?"

"When we get to where we are going, be prepared to take me anywhere I want. No questions asked." Isaac says flatly.

"OK," Mira says. "Right now we're headed to Salt Lake City. But from there we we're headed for San Francisco. Would it be easier to get to where you want to go from Salt Lake City or San Francisco? I understand if you don't want to tell us the exact location. I'm just trying to make this easy for everyone involved. It might save you time if we left from the correct city."

Martin looks over at Tran questioningly as he replies, "If the company won't pick up the tab then I will Isaac - I promise."

A moment passes, and then he asks, "Working on the assumption this is all for real, are here any other questions you've got? Something to take your mind off of your family for a minute anyway?"

"No, I'll just sit back and relax; though if it is 1997 I wonder who of my friends and family are still alive. And what my status is with the Marine Corps." Isaac wonders aloud. "First off the test, I'm not sure if all of this could be drug induced, but I have a pretty creative mind, and it is possible it could be used to trick me. There is a third possibility I didn't think of earlier; I could be stark-raving mad."

"OK," Mira says. "Right now we're headed to Salt Lake City. But from there we were headed for San Francisco. Would it be easier to get to where you want to go from Salt Lake City or San Francisco. I understand if you don't want to tell us the exact location. I'm just trying to make this easy for everyone involved. It might save you time if we left from the correct city."

"No, Salt Lake will be fine." Isaac says. "When we get there, I'll pick the place and you drive directly there. No stopping until we arrive."

Tran nods slightly, Martin sees. "We'll have time for it, I think," she says in an odd tone of voice.

Martin eyes Tran again, a worried glint in his eye, but decides not to say anything just yet. If you start looking any worse or sound funny again we're going to stop no matter what you say, he thinks. I've had just about enough heroics for one day. You keep telling me you're all right, but... he pauses for a moment. You were awful anxious to get out of there... Oh no Tran, you didn't get into a fight with those government agents and wind up hurt did you?

"You're not mad Isaac," Mira gently says. "You're sane. It's just the world around you that has gone a little crazy. Don't worry. Trust yourself and everything will turn out all right in the end."

"Sure," Isaac says "easy for you to say. By the way, let me look at that notebook you picked up at my bed, er" Isaac shrugs, "side."

Martin looks at the quiet Marine in the back seat, and nods his head slowly. Better inject some humor before this gets too gloom-ridden, he thinks. At least that's what the shrinks at the department always said to do. "No matter how it turns out Isaac, I think you're going to be okay. If you made it this long without strangling my partner, you can handle any amount of stress life can throw at you - even this."

Isaac's lop-sided grin appears for a brief moment as he holds out his hand for the notebook.

"I don't think I'm that impossible," Mira says with a snort. "Personally I think I'm quite a calm and reasonable person. Very easy to get along with. You on the other hand can be murder on someone's nerves."

"Here's the notebook," Mira says, handing it over to Isaac. "I don't suppose the name Dr. Merrill means anything to you?"

"It does to me," Tran says quietly as Isaac shakes his head. "But that's another story altogether. He disappeared completely about eighteen months ago -- he was the director of the Avenger Medical Program at PRIMUS, and you're right, he was heavily involved in developing the Cyberline treatment, as well as some lesser known paranormal research projects," she say, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. "Gossip has it that he was kidnapped by VIPER, but if that were true, I would imagine something would have made it into the news by now, or VIPER would be churning out its own supermen. I think he did it to escape justice," she adds venomously. "Some of his experiments would have shamed Mengele."

Ouch! Martin winces internally as he watches Tran's face during her short speech. There's something ugly there that she's not talking about. Though the line about 'other experiments' makes me wonder if... He trails off in thought for a moment, then snaps himself out of it, No. None of my business. If Tran wants to tell someone she will. Just stay away from it - you've got enough problem of your own.

***

Isaac Rosenberg's face becomes pale as he reads the notebook, and he remains quiet for the rest of the trip. Tran's mood is dark as well, and other than a few curses directed at other drivers and a muttered "Want anything?" when they stop for gas in Wendover, she says little to break the silence.

Martin contents himself with watching Tran to make sure she's all right, watching Mira to makes sure she's all right, and watching Isaac to make sure they're all going to be all right in case he loses it. Like I'm going to be more than a pop-up punching bag in any event he muses.

Mira spends most of the trip sleeping, having decided that it is the only way to deal with the feeling that she has been run over a few times. I hate to throw up on anyone, she thinks. I'd better not look out the window. I'm just begging for a bad case of carsickness.

When they stop in Wendover, she asks Martin, "Could you get me some water please? Anything bottled."

Taking advantage of the stop at the convenience store, Martin picks up something to ease the slowly growing hunger that has been bothering him the last thirty miles. Hmmm, wonder if Isaac wants something? He's been in a tube long enough to make anybody hungry... Eyeing the racks of colorful snacks, Martin settles for some peanuts and a couple of beef jerky sticks for the Marine. Probably ought to stay away from the really exotic stuff he thinks to himself. He's probably not ready for 'Sugar-Frosted Cocoa Bombs with macademia nut filling.' A quick perusal of the drinks, and he selects a pair of one liter Coca-Colas, and some bottled water for Mira. At least the bottle is still shaped right on the Cokes, he sighs. He ought to recognize that anyway.

Back in the car, he parcels out his granola bars into various vest pockets, hands the water to Mira, and offers the coke, peanuts and jerky to Isaac, "Hungry? I tried to stick to stuff that you'd be familiar with."

"Thanks," the marine says, taking the food. The plastic twist-off top stumps him for only a half-second, but he frowns nonetheless.

Mira mostly rests, and by the time they reach Salt Lake, approaching dusk, she feels slightly better, but still nauseous and her ribs still ache.

"Martin," Tran begins, "Why don't you take Mr. Rosenberg where he wants to go, and drop us off at the hospital? I'll explain Mira's injury as a climbing accident, and no one will be the wiser. Luckily I thought to bring alternate identification," she mutters. "That will give you a couple hours at least - I don't think hospitals here in the promised land are any faster than anywhere else."

"That sounds fine with me," Isaac says, nodding. "What do you say, Martin?"

"Fine with me," Martin answers. "We'd better get Mira out of her vest before you take her in though - it would tend to make the 'rock climbing' story a bit thin. Tran? Why don't you find us someplace we can stop and get it off with a minimum of prying eyes?"

Mira grumbles at the talk of going to the hospital. "I could wait until San Francisco," she suggests. She reconsiders after a few sharp pains lance through her side when Martin removes the jacket. "OK, maybe the visit to the hospital isn't such a bad idea after all."

"This is going to get worse in a moment," Martin cautions, undoing the velcro at both sides of the vest once the jacket is gone.. "You're going to need to lean forward so I can get this over your head."

A rather pained grunt gets issued from Mira as she leans forward. That is then accompanied by a few muted curses and a sigh of relief when the vest is off. "It felt like I was carrying an extra 20 pounds around," she says by way of an explanation.

"No, only about six," her partner says gently, folding the vest up and sliding it between the back seat and the cargo area. "But it takes some getting used to. If I hadn't been worrying about it giving you some support for those ribs," he adds, "I'd have made you take it off before we started the hike back to the car." Closing the door, he slips back into the front seat as Tran pulls back out into traffic and heads towards the hospital.

"OK, you're coming with me," Tran jokes lamely, as she pulls up in front of a hospital. She exits the car, and goes over to help Mira out. "Now what we should have done is dropped by a bookstore so we'd have plenty to read while we waited." She scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to Martin. "This is the number I'm using currently. Don't use your cell phone if you can help it; we don't want anyone accessing Airtouch roaming records and finding that you were here."

Martin nods, taking the paper from Tran, "Right." Glancing over at Isaac, he adds, "I'll be calling as soon as we know something here."

Tran walks slowly with Mira up the ramp to the emergency room, and waves slightly at them to leave.

Once Martin's behind the driver's seat and Isaac moves forward, the young Marine turns to Martin and says, "The university library." He returns to watching out the window in silence.

Nodding once, Martin starts the car and pulls out into traffic, following the signs to BYU and the library there. Damn, he thinks, eyeing Isaac sadly, this has to be harder on him than anything I can imagine... and I can imagine a whole lot.....

Isaac watches the traffic and other marvels of modern Salt Lake City. This is becoming just a mental exercise, he thinks. There are just too many things that have changed for me to consider anything else but my long sleep. Looking out at the University grounds and the milling students, he steps out of the car and ask the first person he sees -- a rather scantily clad coed -- to direct him to the engineering library.

Once in side, he immediately walks up the to book stacks and picks one at random. After a few moments his eye are drawn to a student sitting in front of a CRT busily typing away. Isaac walks up to the terminal and looks over his shoulder. "What the heck?" he says aloud.

"It's a computer," Martin says gently from beside Isaac. "They're a great deal smaller and several dozen orders of magnitude more powerful now than you probably remember them being."

"I always found the slide rule to be faster. Anyway, it was too difficult to get time on the UNIVAC. It sure wasn't like Asimov's positronic brain." Isaac pauses for a moment. "I thought it was only for business use. What is this person doing?" he asks.

Martin glances over the student's shoulder, raises an eyebrow, and gently leads Isaac back a few steps. Okay... this one's going to be tough - how do you give someone the 30-second introduction to the information age? he thinks to himself before replying, "Writing a term paper if I'm not mistaken." He glances around them, "We're probably a lot closer to those 'positronic brains' you mentioned than you'd guess - maybe even beyond them in some areas. Computers are, well... common - very common. Common enough that there's a booming industry in providing them for people to use at home for business and recreational applications."

Isaac nods once, again, then shakes his head. "I sure did miss a lot," he says softly. "I wonder how my buddies are doing - if changes hit them this hard or if they even noticed them happening." He pauses. "Well, anyway," he says, spying the periodical wall. "I have some catching up to do." He strides away from Martin.