AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another "explanation chapter", with a lot of that "lore" people seem to be fans of.
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As he stared up at the sky, waiting for Alicia and Anton's latest shouting match to come to an end, Ted found himself thankful to whoever or whatever was responsible for him not developing a smoking habit---as it stood, with fifteen minutes having passed between Anton emerging from the kitchen (committed, in his own words, to making an attempt at rebuilding Casey) and a minor quip touching off another round of hostilities with Alicia, it wasn't unlikely that Ted would've smoked his way through at least half a pack of cigarettes waiting for the two to sort out their grievances.
Humming, thankfully, was far less hazardous to one's health...even if his “playlist” tended to veer more towards the likes of Creedence Clearwater Revival and other classic rock than some would've expected.
Halfway through a verse of “Looking Out My Back Door”, Ted stopped---an official-looking car had rolled to a stop in front of the house, the front passenger-side door already opening. The mantra of “Whatever it is, it's not Vicki's fault” found its way to his lips as he tentatively approached the vehicle---ever since Vicki had received her new look, Ted had always dreaded a surprise visit from ALPA “representatives”, on account of something his daughter may have done.
The first person out of the car was someone he didn't recognize---a young man, more than likely in his mid-to-late 20s, in a red-trimmed black coat that looked both prohibitively expensive and specifically designed for his own tastes. The black dress shirt, red vest (with actual gold buttons, Ted noticed), patterned red tie and Oxford shoes barely concealed by the hem of the young man's black dress pants lent an air of sophistication to his appearance....one that clashed sharply with the rather grim set to his brow, and the frown on his lips. He pulled a pair of thin-rimmed, rectangular-framed glasses from a coat pocket, glancing over his shoulder at the driver of the car---Collin DuBraul, the soon-to-be President of the ALPA, and son of the current (soon to be former) President.
“Ah, anyhelp I can thing you with?” Ted inquired---immediately cursing himself for the flub. “I mean, ah, any thing I can help you....with....” The young man was now frowning at him. “Sorry, I'm just---”
“No need to apologize, Ted,” Collin sighed, fully extricating himself from his seatbelt. “You weren't expecting visitors, and all of a sudden we show up.” He flashed a quick smile. “If Vicki was still Stateside, I'm sure it would've been her sitting outside, trying to get away from---” He flinched, slightly, as the sound of another plate hitting a wall inside Ted's house cut him off. “....to get away from that,” he finished.
“And you brought me all the way out here,” the young man in the black coat muttered. “I had my own method of transportation---”
“We talked about this,” Collin reminded him, bidding him to be calm with a hand gesture, just as Ted walked over to introduce himself. “Ted Lawson, founder of Lawson Robotics and, ah, sitting member of the Silicon Valley board of the ALPA.” He held out a hand.
The young man arched an eyebrow. “....the ALPA has a board?”
“Had,” Collin chimed in. “We had to dissolve it three years ago...it turns out that territorial boards, much like the old system of territories in professional wrestling, was a lost cause. Ted just forgot to take it off of all his business cards.” He grinned again. “Common mistake to make.”
After a second or two of silence, the young man shook Ted's hand. “Pleased to finally meet you, Mr. Lawson.”
“Just Ted, please...I never could get used to honorary titles. Plus, 'Mr. Lawson' sounds a little too much like 'Mr. Wilson' for my liking...” Ted laughed at the self-depreciatory humor, stopping when he realized the young man was now staring at him as if he'd just said something like “the fourth moon is in the seventh inning”. He nodded, as if to acknowledge his own gaffe. “I tend to tell bad jokes when I get nervous,” he admitted. “A hard habit to break....”
“But not a dangerous one,” Collin finished. “Ted, allow me to introduce you to the doctor---”
“Doctor?” Ted echoed. “Doctor who, exactly?”
“Smith. John Smith.” The young man gave a quick smile, shaking Ted's hand one last time.
“It's not his real name, by the way,” Collin added, earning a scowl from “Dr. Smith”. “He prefers to keep his work with us...off-record. For tax reasons.”
Ted made a face at the “tax reasons” remark, but Dr. Smith actually chuckled. “'Tax reasons'?” he echoed.
“You told me not to say 'personal reasons',” Collin acquiesced. “He showed up at HQ when the call went out about Clive......about my father's condition....” He paused for a moment, frowning. “Ah, is there any chance we can take this discussion inside, or---”
Another shout from Anton, followed by Alicia screaming something personal (and vulgar) in reply, cut him off.
“We can use the treehouse,” Ted suggested---again, hating himself for even thinking it. “Ah, I mean---”
“Treehouse?” Dr. Smith echoed, arching an eyebrow. “I've never been to an official meeting in a treehouse before....” He paused, glancing down at his hand---still gripping Ted's own. “...handshakes don't usually last longer than a few seconds, right?” he quietly asked.
“What? OH, the hand....” Ted immediately let go of the young man's hand, backing away a step. “Sorry, I was just...distracted....” Another round of yelling from Anton and Alicia punctuated his claim. “....so, yeah, the treehouse. It's still in one piece, amazingly---even the earthquake didn't damage it all that much!”
“Your house got hit by the Loma Prieta quake?” Dr. Smith inquired.
“Less 'hit' and more 'heavily damaged', but yes. Thankfully, we were able to rebuild pretty quickly---we even took the opportunity to upgrade.” He grinned. “Joanie never thought the house would look good with a second floor, but---”
Collin gave a quiet, almost polite cough, nodding to the treehouse.
“Ah, right. The meeting, in the treehouse....” Ted sighed, leading the way up to the ladder. “Had to reinforce the thing after one of Jamie's classmates tried to start a fight in it,” he recalled, carefully ascending the plank ladder. “And Joanie insisted that I treat the wood to make sure nobody got splinters....” After twenty seconds of climbing (most of it due to the aches and pains of old age steadily reminding Ted that he was but mortal, and would one day pass from this life---which he usually drowned out with work and/or whatever he could blast from headphones while engaging in his favorite hobbies), Ted pulled himself into the treehouse. “It's perfectly safe!” he called down to Collin and Dr. Smith. “Floor's reinforced, the branches won't snap....”
Dr. Smith rolled his eyes. “Every time I get called out here, something fun happens....”
“Calling you is a lot better the alternative,” Collin reminded him. “Besides.....it's a treehouse. A treehouse---”
“All right, all right....you get to relive some long-lost fond memory, and I get to experience the joys of not falling about 20 feet.” Dr. Smith sighed. “While I'm thinking about it, would it have sounded weird if I said my first name was Zachary?” The question earned a smirk from Collin. “He probably would've made a 'danger, Will Robinson' joke....”
Dr. Smith rolled his eyes. “Just climb the ladder already....”
Collin made his way up the ladder, followed soon after by Dr. Smith. It was more than a bit bizarre for both of them---and for Ted, who was used to conducting meetings in boardrooms, or at the very least over a restaurant table or even in his own home. Holding an impromptu treehouse conference was....new, for all three of them.
“Right, now that we're.....here,” Collin began, “we can go into more.....” He paused. “The sound from in here doesn't carry across the fence, does it---”
“Clive DuBraul is dying,” Dr. Smith cut in. “ALM, also known as 'Widowmaker's Disease'....it's killed off almost 50% of the males in his family bloodline, and it's killing him now.” He stared at the plank floor of the treehouse, his expression inscrutable. “He's got....two weeks, if we're being generous---three days, if he's lucky.”
Ted's eyes went wide. “Three days?!”
“We've been asked to notify all prominent members of the ALPA,” Collin explained. “Given your involvement in recent events, you more than qualify as 'prominent'.” He retrieved an envelope from his coat pocket; “Sorry it has to be done in such a cloak-and-dagger fashion,” he apologized, “but after the breach at HQ, we needed to take precautions.”
“....and this is...what, exactly?” Ted quietly asked.
“The combination to a locker at San Jose International Airport. You'll find more information inside---”
“You can't just tell me now?” Ted insisted. “This is...I knew Clive, and he wouldn't want to go through all of this James Bond nonsense just to give me his last.....his last message.....” He stared at the envelope in his hand.
“He didn't want to have to pull a James Bond,” Collin admitted. “Things have changed since you joined–-”
“I know they have, I just.....” Ted stared through the treehouse window, trying to focus his thoughts. “I didn't think they'd changed this much....” The view of the yard and driveway offered a tantalizing reminder of years past---happier times, and places.....
A hand rested on his shoulder. “You okay?” Dr. Smith quietly asked.
“I was just...I was remembering so many of the crazy things that happened in the old days,” Ted replied. “All the times the Brindles nearly found out what Vicki was...Fernwald showing up every so often, just to make sure Vicki was okay...” He gave a half-snort of derision. “I was still convinced Vicki had the potential to be United Robotronics' best-selling product, once I worked out all the bugs....but Joanie never saw her that way. In her eyes, Vicki was a daughter first and foremost---never a 'thing'.”
“And you think everything happening with Clive will somehow affect Vicki?” Dr. Smith ventured.
“Clive DuBraul was one of the two people who approved of Vicki's induction into the ALPA as a field agent...the other is currently in a secured room in a facility somewhere overseas.” Ted sighed. “It's all just so...”
Collin leaned against a wall of the treehouse, resting his hands behind his head. “Different?”
“Exactly. It's different, and it's strange, and I'm starting to think it's leaving me behind....”
Dr. Smith moved to get a better view through the treehouse window. “Time has a way of creeping up on a lot of people without their noticing it,” he admitted. “You feel like everything's fine and dandy one minute, and going to hell in a handbasket the next, then back to relative normality....” He gave a slight chuckle. “I know the feeling, Ted. Believe me, I know it....but you can't let that feeling overwhelm you.” He glanced at the plain white envelope Collin had given Ted; “And even if you don't approve of the....James Bond approach,” he added, “you're going to look back on this one day and realize it wasn't that big of a deal---”
“I still don't know why I need to go to a random airport locker,” Ted insisted. “Collin never mentioned that part when he gave me the envelope!”
Dr. Smith glanced at Collin, who rolled his eyes. “No time like the present, then....”
He steepled his fingers, sighing. “You remember the breach of ALPA HQ?”
“I've been trying to forget it,” Ted muttered, “but....yeah. I remember.”
“And you remember what was taken?”
“.....the list, and---”
“It was more than the List, Ted. A lot more.” Collin glanced at Dr. Smith; “Seeing as how you're only on-staff for the remainder of the week,” he mused, “you might want to, ah....”
“Anything you have to say now, I'll take to my grave,” the doctor replied. “Cross my hearts, hope to die.”
Ted nodded in agreement---then stopped. “What did you just---”
“Cross my heart, hope to die. That's still an expression, right?”
“....yeah....but I thought....eh, forget it. Collin, if you would....”
With another sigh, Collin continued. “The delicate nature of some of the stolen items from the breach means that we can't simply call in every active field agent to go hunting down each individual article to get them all back....some of them will have to be destroyed. Clive knew, before his condition took a turn for the worse, that we might have to exercise this particular option---and he insisted that you, in particular, be entrusted with carrying out one particular set of objectives.” He nodded at the envelope in Ted's hand. “The locker you have the combination to contains everything you'll need to carry out Clive's request, as well as an explanation of that request. Six others have been given similar envelopes---”
“And before you ask,” Dr. Smith cut in, “the fact that seven people are carrying out his last wishes happens to be a coincidence. I think the number was going to be eleven, but apparently, he considered that 'your' number, or something....” He shrugged.
Ted couldn't help but chuckle. “I guess he knew me all too well....so there are six lockers at the airport?”
“Yours is the only one there. There are others all around San Jose---one at Spartan Stadium, one at the San Jose Convention Center, one at the HP Pavilion....I can't list them all, for security reasons---”
The sound of a door being flung open hard enough for the pull to hit the wall stopped Collin in his tracks; Ted and Dr. Smith scrambled to get a look out of the treehouse window just in time to see Anton nearly collapse in a sitting position on the front steps of the Lawson house, his face buried in his hands. “....ah, do we need to go make sure he's okay,” Dr. Smith offered, “or do we just....” His question trailed off---the chestnut-haired figure of Rae Clarke emerged from the still-open front door, sitting down next to Anton and resting a hand on his shoulder. “....I guess we keep going, then,” the doctor mused.
“I guess we keep going,” Ted echoed; below, Rae was whispering something in Anton's ear, followed by the roboticist pulling her in for a tearful embrace.
“I know you have pressing business to attend to regarding this rebuild project,” Collin informed him, “and if you need some time to finish that before you handle Clive's....” He paused. “....to handle my father's request, then just tell me now---”
“Can we not drag the whole 'I didn't speak to him for five years' thing into this discussion, please?” Dr. Smith muttered. “You had your problems with him, he told you to stay out of the ALPA's business, you ignored him and came back---”
He noticed Ted staring at him, and Collin counting the ceiling planks of the treehouse.
“.....and I get the distinct feeling I've said something stupid,” the doctor realized. “I'll just....I'll go to the car---”
“You can stay in the treehouse until we're done talking,” Collin declared---somewhat impressive, considering the words came out in a half-yawn. “My issues with my father are mine to bear....but if Ted wants the details, I'll tell him. In any case....” He steepled his fingers. “My father's request may not seem to be that high of a priority, compared to the issue with Epsilon...but it is his last request, apart from whatever he's written into his will. He'd have told you in person,” he added, glancing at Ted, “if it wasn't for the whole 'not long for this world' thing, and all....”
Ted nodded. “I'm just glad he passed the message on through you.....if I didn't know, I'd have kicked myself for months on end....” He glanced back down, to where Anton and Rae were still conversing at the front door.
“Everyone's handling this in different ways,” Dr. Smith mused. “Some better than others.”
“It's not about how Anton's 'handling' it,” Ted muttered. “It's....we made a promise to Clive. Not quite a 'blood oath' or anything like that, but...something happened.” He turned away from the treehouse window. “Anton suffered a lot....lost a lot, and nearly lost even more. We were basically handed an opportunity to get back at the ones---some of the ones who'd...inflicted, I don't even know if that's the term, but it's the way he said it...who inflicted this loss upon him. And we used that opportunity.” There was a bitterness to the words, a feeling that, at one point, Ted had been proud of his actions---and now hated himself for ever even thinking that way. “We did....things. Some of which weren't especially legal, and some of which would've landed us in jail if we'd ever been caught.....”
He glanced back at his house, ignoring Anton and Rae on the doorstep. “....things even Joan doesn't know.”
“And you're telling us this.....why?” the doctor prompted.
“Because back then, Anton and I thought we were in the right,” Ted replied. “We truly believed we had done something good....something we could be proud of. And Clive swore us both to secrecy....not just for what we'd done, but for what had happened to Anton's family in the first place.” He shook his head. “By the time the truth started to set in....it was just after we'd taken back United Robotronics from Fa---from William Rengold III, and....” He made a few small, fleeting gestures with his hands. “I knew. It 'clicked', and I just...I knew.”
Collin and Dr. Smith waited for him to continue. “And when you...'knew'.....what---”
“I couldn't tell Joan, or Brandon, or anyone. Lawson Robotics was just an idea, back then....if I'd told anyone what had happened, what Anton and I had done.....” Ted dragged a hand over his face, as if trying to ward off the lingering memories of what had happened. “It was after I'd joined the ALPA that I finally told Clive.”
“What about Anton?” Collin inquired.
“He might've told him before I did, I don't know. I never asked...because we didn't talk about it. Ever.”
“And I don't suppose you'll tell us,” the doctor began, only to wither under Ted's glare. “.....never mind.”
“He never brought it up with you, I'm guessing,” Ted mused, turning his attention back to Collin. “Otherwise, there'd be a full squad below the treehouse to haul me in for questioning, and Anton would probably be making a run for the border...”
“He only mentioned 'certain subjects' that needed to be....addressed,” Collin admitted. “Nothing about anything or anyone specific.”
Ted nodded. “So he didn't elaborate on what those 'certain subjects' were?”
“All I know is what he told me....and he didn't tell me a whole lot.”
“.....he'd say he didn't want to burden you with the knowledge,” Ted muttered. “Knowing him, he'd use those exact words....”
Collin checked his watch. “Not to be rude, or anything, but we have to be going. Dr. Smith....”
“I'm hoping that Corlette girl has the car running,” the doctor replied. “If the seats are cold---”
“Corlette?” Ted echoed, frowning. “Who's---”
“Crystal Corlette,” Collin explained. “Coppery-red hair, light tan....she was Oberon's assistant, before she got a transfer to HQ. She stayed on after his arrest....apparently, he didn't want her 'fighting his battles for her' or something---she told me as much before we got here.”
“Exposition dump later,” Dr. Smith sighed. “Warm car now...no offense, Ted, but the treehouse is a bit drafty.”
“It hasn't been used in years....Joan never did ask me to tear it down, or anything.” The remark sounded sad, even to Ted. “I just....I figured it'd be a nice reminder of the old days, when things were...simple. For all of us.”
The doctor nearly said something, but instead nodded thoughtfully.
“I suppose we'll leave you to your work, then,” Collin stated. “Rebuilding Agent Casey, and all....”
“I'll do what I can.” Ted shook hands with Collin and Dr. Smith---not an easy task, in the cramped quarters of the treehouse---and allowed them to climb down the rope ladder first. Just as Collin had his foot on the first rung, however, Ted stopped him. “.....I never did fully explain to Joan what joining the ALPA means for us,” he admitted. “She only just found out when she came back from her lottery trip, in December....”
Collin sighed. “You'll have to tell her eventually, Ted. At least tell her as much as you trust her with---”
“That's the problem!” Ted groaned. “I...I don't know what she'll be able to handle, what she'll hate me for not saying.....if I tell her too much, she'll want Vicki's Field Agent status revoked, or at least toned down. If I don't tell her enough, she'll think I'm holding out on her, she won't trust me---”
“Ted......” Collin regarded the roboticist with a knowing glance. “You'll know.”
“....know what?” Ted replied, slightly confused.
“You'll know. Just trust me.” With a final nod, Collin made his way down the rope ladder; Dr. Smith, by this point, had already crossed the yard and was standing impatiently by the car. “I'll keep in touch.”
“Thanks. And....I'd wish you luck, with the whole President of the ALPA thing, but.....”
Ted's remark was dismissed with a wave. “No need to. I'm only taking the job for the interim...they're going to pick someone else once the Oberon situation has been resolved.”
“You didn't offer to stay on permanently?”
“It wasn't my offer to make...in any case, I have other things on my plate now. You know how it is....”
“....yeah,” Ted quietly replied. “I do.” He backed away from the ladder. “Take care of yourself, Collin.”
“I'll do my best.” Collin descended the ladder, crossing the yard to join Dr. Smith. Ted sighed, moving to climb down the ladder....but he couldn't help but take one last look at the interior of the treehouse before he did.
“So much simpler,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I wish everything could be that simple....”
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More later this week, as per usual. I've been busy with videos and other stuff, but I'm nowhere near done with this yet.
Elvis Lives. Not in this timeline, but in quite a few others.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.
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