Another Place - Episode 19

Another Place Another Time

Book One

Ben Cavanaugh

Episode Nineteen

I’m a graduate of West Point. I finished fifth in my class and should have been a General, or at the least a full Colonel at this point in my career, rather than a Lieutenant Colonel. I’m not complaining, mind you. In fact, I’d not change anything that I’ve done, if it were possible to do so. I enjoy being the commander of the Greyhounds, even though transferring me to the National Guard from my regular Army command at Fort Rucker was the Army’s way of letting me know that the Army way took precedent over the right way. I understand that, and still I opt for the right way. So, when I told Charlie that his secret was safe, I meant it, because in my gut I knew that it was the right thing to do.

Charlie told me that his aircraft ran on pure water. He saw the disbelief on my face and assured me, “I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true. When you and your men first saw me, I was getting water from the river, and that’s why I crashed.”

“Wait a minute, Charlie; you said it ran on water.”

“That’s right, it does. The problem is, the engine needs a level of water purity that, obviously, is quite a bit higher than the water in the river.”

“The dozens of freighters that move up and down the river every day are enough to pollute it, without taking anything else into consideration,” I said.

“Well, be that as it may,” he said, “My problem is, I need purer water to get it airborne. Can you help me?”

“How much do you need?”

“Five or six hundred gallons, at least,” he said hopefully.

I did some quick calculations and told him that was doable. I asked my crew chief to get Captain Sprague, the flight commander. I told Charlie that we could get potable water in five-gallon jerry cans, and I figured we could get eight hundred gallons as easily as we could get five hundred. He said that would work.

Just then, Sprague walked up beside me. I told him to take the flight of ten Slicks to the helicopter supply depot in Vung Tau and pick up the water. I cautioned him not say a word to anyone about the aircraft, and to make sure that everyone in the flight understood that.

“And, Sprague,” I added, “Get back as quickly as you can.”

He didn’t ask a single question. He just said, “Yes, Sir,” and he was gone.

Charlie said that he would drain the water that he had just picked up and I told him that would help speed the “refueling.” I added that, to be on the safe side, I was going to put two of the gunships in the air to patrol the area. I got the two in the air and told the other two to shut down but to continue monitoring the radio for calls from Sprague and the gunships. Then I went back to Charlie’s aircraft.

Charlie had disappeared inside. In moments, I heard water being discharged on the opposite side of the aircraft.

“Charlie,” I called out, “is it all right if I come up?”

I heard his voice, muffled, but understandable, “Sure, Colonel, come on aboard.”

I found him in the pilot’s seat looking at the dead console. I pointed toward the solid wall above the console and asked, “Charlie, how do you see out?”

He laughed and said, “When the engine is running, which isn’t the case at the moment, I touch this button.”

As he spoke, he pointed to a button on top of the control stick mounted on the armrest of his chair.

“Current goes through the fuselage and changes its molecular structure and the entire skin of the aircraft becomes transparent. However, looking at it from the outside there is no change.”

All I could say was, “Wow!”

Then I said something a bit more intelligent. “When is this technology going to be in the field?”

Charlie slowly turned toward me, looked into my eyes, and said, “Colonel, you’re never going to see it in the field. You see, I’m from a different time than yours. My home is eighty years in the future.”

That explained the appearance of his plane and the insignia on his uniform that I’d never seen, and, as crazy as it might sound to you, I knew without a doubt that it was true.

“Mind if I sit down?” I asked.

He pointed to the copilot’s chair and said, “Help yourself.”

I sat down as he said, “Let me give you a brief explanation of how I got here and why I’m here.”

He explained the condition of earth in his time and briefly told me of the corrective actions they had set up. The bottom line is, he told me an unbelievable story, and I believed every word of it.

Charlie had just finished talking when my crew chief shouted “Sir! Sir, Captain Sprague is on the radio for you.”

I climbed up the ladder and out on to the fuselage. I called down to him, “What does he want?”

“Sir, Captain Sprague said that Jake, the Scout Dog Handler, and his dog, Whispers, want to hitch a ride back to Bearcat with him.”

I thought about that for a few seconds and told him to tell Captain Sprague that they could ride if they agreed to forget about the stop they were going to make and everything he saw.

I went back into the cockpit of the aircraft, and Charlie gave me more details about technological advances as well as the political and environmental conditions eighty years in the future. I marveled at how quickly I accepted the idea of time travel. We talked for thirty minutes or so, but it seemed more like two or three. Then we heard Sprague and the rest of the flight settling into the open area beside Charlie’s aircraft.

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