My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

~In God We Trust~

17

A new day dawned, with new frustrations.

“What’s taking so long for those faxes?” I finally demanded over my lab’s intercom. I hadn’t had any success with my calculations this morning so something good had to happen sometime.

There had been no need to actually address Sparks by his name or position. Only I would have made such a demand without doing so, or possibly Chip or Will would, but everyone knew my voice or at least should have. Identifying oneself over the intercom or PA was deeply ingrained courtesy, but not strictly necessary for me, my voice being one of a kind, so to speak.

“Sorry, sir,” Riley answered over the PA. “Sparks had to go to Sick Bay to get Doc’s security code card. The one that’s imbedded. Even Doc can’t read the encryption to tell Sparks over the PA. Has to be shoved into the radio’s secure slot and....”

“I know how it works, Riley,” I said.

“Yes sir,” he replied, contrite.

“It’s only the president’s Walter Reed’s MRI scans I wanted,” I said, irritated, “hardly top secret.”

“I wouldn’t know, sir, but they sure won’t release the faxes to Seaview without Doc’s Alpha Minor security code.”

“Very well.”

“Are you trying to disprove the surgeon general, sir?” he asked hopefully, “about the skip, er..President Nelson-Crane being brain damaged?”

“I just want Doc to examine the MRI’s and tell me just what it was that the good doctors at Walter Reed claim is brain damage, or what they think is proof that Lee didn’t have some out of near death or out of body experiences when he flat lined, because I don’t buy their preliminary results.”

I could hear the Control Room watch banging on their consoles and jovial back slapping.

“All right, pipe down everyone,” Kowalski said. “Back to work.”

“Kowalski?” I asked, incredulous.

“Yes sir, I’ve got the conn. Captain Morton and Lt. O’Brien went aft to meet Sharkey at the bulkhead where Riley saw the skipper’s ghost.”

“He wasn’t no ghost!” Riley whined. “He was, like, a kind of angel. You know, before they’ve gone up to Heaven for good. I know he was an angel because he was glowing so brightly I couldn’t even tell what he was wearing or....”

“So you do believe in what he said happened, do you, Riley?” I asked gently.

“Don’t you?”

“You know I do. I just wish my wife did.”

Knowing groans from the married men in the Control Room.

“That’s too bad, sir,” Riley said. “You’d think more folks would be open to the idea. I guess it’s just hard for them to accept the truth of it if it’s never happened to them...and...Sparks is back sir.”

“Very well, thank you for filling in, Lad. And for believing in the skipper.”

“Yes, sir! Er, you want me to bring you some coffee? It’s all over the boat you didn’t have a bite or sip of joe this morning and the second seating for lunch is almost over and....”

“Actually, coffee does sound good.”

“I hope you’ll add some food to that order,” Chip said. “How’s it going, sir?”

“Not too well, I’m afraid.”

“You’ll get it, sir.”

“Thanks.”

“Sparks,” Chip ordered, “after you get through to Walter Reed, contact the DOD with a duplicate to the acting president, that we found some shorts in our missile and torpedo firing conduits. Location, right behind the very bulkhead that President Nelson-Crane visited from the ‘other side’. And request receipts of message received from both.”

“No kidding?” Sparks said with glee. “I bet that will make the old battle britches sit up and take notice.”

“Sparks, the acting president may be an addlepated SOB, but you’re not to refer to him as ‘Battle Britches’. That’s taken already.”

“Chip~” I warned.

“Well, it is, sir. Though I kind of think Admiral Starke likes it.”

“That was fast,” Sparks muttered. Sir? The acting president on the videophone for you, Captain. Audio only. Not secure.”

“Pipe it through.”

“Include me in,” I ordered and my monitor came to life.

“Morton? And it appears Nelson too,” the acting president said, “Seaview’s new war alert destination orders will arrive by courier.” “Aye, sir,” Chip said.

“And, you might want to inform your communications officer that the Control Room wide audio was ‘on’ when he sent your communiques to Walter Reed, the DOD, and to the White House switchboard.”

“Oh shit,” Sparks muttered, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Acting President.”

“Apology not accepted. And according to amendment 25 it’s ‘president’. Captain, I’m having the SecNav place your radio operator on report for dereliction of duty and insubordination.”

“Sir...”Chip began.

“I’m also putting you, Captain, on report for insubordination as well.”
Gasps from the crew.

“Easy, men,” Chip said. “We accept the reprimands.” There wasn’t really anything else he could do.

“Did you get the message about the shorts in our firing conduits?” I changed the subject.

“Yes, good job they were discovered and....”

“But what about where Capt. Morton and Lt. O’Brien found them?” Riley piped up. “Right where I saw the skipper, er, President Nelson-Crane when he visited us when he was dead....”

“Good God, I’m sick of this! It was just a coincidence. World’s full of them. And don’t you remember your Navy training? You can’t just interrupt the president of the United States! You’re on report too. Now, Nelson, you’re a scientist. I hope a Nobel Laureate like you is not getting all superstitious about these so-called out of body or near death experiences about Lee.”

“And you sir, shouldn’t be so casually dismissive!”

“So Cdr. Jackson has been telling the shrinks to believe Lee’s story. Visiting Seaview then your unborn brats in Heaven? Not to mention Lee’s previous visits to Heaven? His little chats with the Angels of Death? And that you and Jackson had met them as well? Pure balderdash to protect Lee’s reputation....”

“Don’t forget, like,” Riley interrupted, “the skipper’s friends George Washington and Abe Lincoln or....”

“Young man, you are relieved of duty. To get your head examined!”

“You can’t disprove Lee’s experiences,” I said, “or his previous ones.”

“You really believe he was taken out of his body to go help the angels label tears? And not just once? Good God, man, are you all idiots on that ship?”

“Boat, sir,” Ski corrected. “All submarines are referred to as boats, not ships, and...”

“Damn it, you’re on report! All of you are! God almighty!”

“You can’t do that!” Riley piped up, “can he, Admiral? And he shouldn’t use the Lord’s name in vain. That’s in the Bible!”

“You’re still speaking out of turn, sailor, and you just added more counts of insubordination to your record. I’d relieve you of duty as well, Nelson, if I didn’t need you to get your damn anti-radiation spread theory in action...now, get this straight. All of you. The MRI’s proved Pre...Mr. Nelson-Crane to be brain damaged and his stories nonsense. Any such claims otherwise will be summarily ignored by the American Medical Association. For all intents and purposes, Mr. Nelson-Crane will not be allowed to sign himself back into the presidency via the 25th amendment. Your personal relationship with him has all of you too distracted to think clearly...I have no idea why that crewman who claims to have seen him isn’t locked away before he can harm himself. Captain Morton, if you really want to keep your command I insist on better discipline aboard. And you’re not to bother anyone at Walter Reed again! I hope I’ve made myself clear.”

With that the screen went blank.

I could swear even Seaview groaned in relief that the call was ended and duly chastened Sparks turned the Control Room wide audio off.

“Oh, gawd, Captain Morton,” Riley sighed, “I’m sorry. I just, like, couldn’t help myself....”

“Very well, as long as speaking out of turn doesn’t happen again. From either of you.”

“Aye, sir, “Riley and Ski acknowledged in unison.

The radio printer got busy and shoved out a print out from the DOD.

“Shit,” Chip said handing it to Ski after a quick glance. “The course.”

“Aye sir...oh shit, sir...he really has a burr up his ass...”

Everyone urgently shushed him.

“It’s okay, Sparks said, “I turned off our audio as soon as the call ended.

Just then Chief Sharkey came through the hatch.

“We got the conduits patched, Captain,” Sharkey said.

“Very well...Admiral? Do you want to enter our presidential reprimands into the log or should I?”

“I’ll do it, Lad.”

“Reprimands?” Sharkey asked. “What the hell’s been going on in here?”

“Fill him in, Ski,” Chip said. “I’ll plot the course instead.”

And so Ski escorted Sharkey to the nose and told all.

Chip set the new course which would take us to the frozen Antarctic waters, and I began to write up the log, with a dejected sigh. Never in her history, had Seaview been so ill used.

I had just finished, when Sparks called out.

“Faxes coming in. Guess the president didn’t bother to renege our request to Walter Reed in time for them to send them.”

“Acting president,” Chip corrected and picked up a mike. “Attention all hands, this is the captain. While protocol has deemed that the acting president be referred to as president now, aboard ‘this’ boat, the only president is the skipper, President Nelson-Crane. That is all.”

Applause, back slapping, and pounding of consoles and bulkheads indicated easy compliance with Seaview’s crew.

“Good job, Chip,” I told him, gathering the MRI’s and medical reports into my arms and headed to Sick Bay.

***

“Well?” I asked before Will had had much of a chance to study the high tech images.

“Give me a chance!”

“Sorry.”

I couldn’t help count the seconds pass by on my watch. But less than a minute later he looked up.

“The surgeon general may have a point,” he sighed, “see here, and here?” he added, pointing to some of the colorful graphic images on both MRI’s. “This section of the brain is where cognitive and reasoning takes place, and... the area does seem compromised. Not widely, but enough to confirm possible brain damage. At least enough to prevent Lee from resuming office...as for the rest of the medical report, see here? Definite spinal nerve damage to his leg.

“Damn, damn, damn! What more does Lee have to go through?”
I whined.

“I said ‘might’...perhaps only his feet or toes might be affected, or the damage is too minor for him to be adversely affected. We won’t know until he gets to his feet.”

“I see,” I sighed, running my hand through my hair. “Does he know, I wonder?”

“Possibly but they may be waiting to tell him until he’s a bit stronger.”

“Come with me,” I ordered.

***

“Can you still access the room cam?” I asked Sparks before I’d even stepped over the knee knocker into the Control Room.

“I can try.”

As soon as Sparks entered some numbers, a printout slipped out and he read it silently before handing it to me saying “Access denied. The acting president is sure taking his threats seriously.”

“Damn,” I muttered.

“Would a declared medical emergency get us through to their security cams?” Chip asked Sparks.

“No sir. The only way I can think of is to hack our way in. Risky, but...””

“Do it,” I said.

“Belay that,” Chip ordered. “Admiral, if we’re caught there’ll be hell to pay.”

“He’s right sir,” Ski said. “I think it’s a felony to hack into any government or military agency, and Walter Reed’s both.”

“We need to see him,” I said.

“Are you speaking as the admiral or as his father?”

“Both.”

“And I need to see him as well,” Doc said, “for medical reasons.”

“You realize,” Chip said slowly, that if we do this, our careers are over? With a stint in Leavenworth!”

“I’ll see to it, only I’m held accountable.”

“Impossible,” Chip said. “As captain I’m accountable for everything that goes on here.’

“Chip, please...”

“I didn’t say I don’t like the idea. And if Doc thinks it’s necessary...but, sir, remember, the man in the White House already has it in for every one of us. I don’t want the crew punished for what their senior officers do.”

“I say go for it,” Ski said. “This is the skipper we’re talking about. If Doc needs to check on something, damn it, he should be allowed to. And if the admiral just needs to see the skipper, that’s okay by me, even if we’re all court martialed.”

“Not your decision, midshipman,” I said formally, “but thanks for you cooperation. Sparks, this isn’t an order...you can deny the request formally. No one except Doc and I will be held accountable...if we’re caught.”

“Are you kidding? It’ll be good to show that blow hard who’s more important than him, and that’s the skipper!”

More pounding on the consoles, and shouts of ‘Do it!’ Do it’!

“You agree we’re all in this together?” Chip asked, waiting for each man in the Control Room to voice individual ‘aye’s or ‘nay’s.

There wasn’t a single ‘nay’ from the men who were to witness our act of downright disobedience to the White House.

“Very well, Ski, record it in the log that by mutual consent the Control Room crew at this hour and day, are, in effect, in defiance against the acting president of the United States...any last minute change of opinion? I want it fully realized that our hacking in may very well be considered mutiny against the present commander in chief.”

No one changed their opinion.

“Very well. Go for it, Sparks,” he added.

The image came through but Lee was no longer in the room.

“Has he been released?” Doc muttered. “A bit soon after having his sternum cracked open, but they did use lasers. I’ve heard healing is much easier for the body when the cuts are cleaner...and patients have been released sooner than they used to be without any ill effects...”

Sparks hacked into the wing’s rooms, even into two deserted operating rooms.

Then he got a cam showing a Secret Service agent leaning against a closed door.

“Must be that room,” he muttered and soon the newly activated cam image, if one could call it that, formed.

“The signal’s scrambled,” Sparks said, as he tried to adjust the horrible visibility. “The audio too.”

We could see, however, the faint outlines of a patient in bed, hooked to an IV, and a man sitting next to him, head bowed and hands folded in front of him.

“Will their security figure out we’re trying to hack in?” I asked.

“Don’t think so...the interference isn’t theirs. The scramble signal’s from a phone in the room...the seated man’s phone...I’ll try to get the ID...it’s Cdr. Jackson, sir! He’s scrambling the cam!”

“Call him,” I ordered.

“The same signal he’s using to scramble the cams won’t let a call go through...I bet their security is hoping all over the place calling IT to fix all their fuzzed out cams.”

“What is Joe up to?” I mused.

“Probably doesn’t want his private conversation with the skipper to be seen or heard by security. Not even in the hallway...I think I might be able to hack into the phone and clear the signal enough for us to see through the cam, without clearing it for the hospital’s security....”

“Do it.”

In a few minutes the fuzzy image cleared, along with the audio...

Lee’s eyes were closed, and tears were running down Joe’s face.

My heart stopped.

“I’m so sorry, Lee,” Joe was muttering. “I’m so sorry...they just wouldn’t stop badgering me...I failed you, bro...I failed you...”

“It’s okay, Joe,” Lee told him, opening up his eye, and reached out to take his friend’s hand.

“No! No, it’s not. In effect, I betrayed you! And they won’t let me take it back! I tried! I tried! I swear it! It’ll be all over the news that I told the shrinks that I really didn’t know a thing about Bliss or Glad and that I had only been agreeing with your story because I didn’t want you to be confirmed as brain damaged.”

“Will you listen to yourself? You were pressured into a false admission. In effect, you were brainwashed. And, if I’m honest with myself, I could be brain damaged. Ask Chip,” he added playfully. “Technically, though, the old grey matter was without oxygenated blood for a while after I was shot. Though I don’t feel any different, or think any different. I swear I was aboard Seaview answering her cries, or trying to. I was going to speak to Riley but I suddenly found myself with the twins in Heaven. Knew it was Paradise, recognized it from the last time I was there to label tears. And chatted with George and Abe...didn’t see Bliss or Glad this time though.”

“I believe you, Lee. You know I do...I should have been stronger and not let them wear me out enough to convince me to say otherwise!”

“I’ve been brainwashed too, Joe, remember. It’s hard to get over, but it’s not your fault. Took me awhile not to blame myself, either.”

“What are you doing here, Commander?” a late middle aged nurse asked, entering. “Personally I don’t mind Mr. Nelson-Crane having visitors against regs, but he really does need his rest before he’s released tomorrow.”

“No kidding? A few more minutes, please?” Lee asked. “In private.”

“Very well, but I expect you to call it quits in five minutes,” she said, leaving, closing the door behind her.

“Joe, it’s pretty clear that they’re never going to let me resume office, so I need you to keep an eye on our new president.”

“He’s up to no good?”

“Technically, no,” Lee considered, “he’s doing most of the job by the book...it’s just...his attitude. Enjoys the perks too much. And he’s getting even more arrogant than he was as VP. I don’t like it. He’s already started to abuse the privileges and....”

“Hate to remind you, bro,” Joe interrupted, “the president of the United States does have a heck of a lot of constitutionally sanctioned God-like powers.”

“Something I’ve sure wanted changed...”

“You’ve used those same powers yourself.”

“Yeah, but only for the benefit of the nation and mankind. This guy’s been making decisions without the benefit of the advice of his advisors or congress.”

“So have you, mon capitan.”

“Yes, well, at least I listened to my advisors first. Did you know he transferred Seaview to the Antarctic, against the DOD’s advice?”

“How do you know that? You’re off the DOD grid.”

“I may be plain Mr. Nelson-Crane now, but I still have my sources...and the change of course is not top secret. I think he did it out of spite. I can’t even get through to Seaview. ‘Access Denied’, straight from the DOD. But enough of that. Joe, as I said, I need you to watch the acting president, or as he’s been saying and I suppose it’s technically correct as far as protocol is concerned, ‘president’”

“How can I keep an eye on him? He’s removed me as a presidential advisor and aide de camp, and I’m to report to ComSubLant in less than a week...”

“Yes, but you can still collect my prosthesis and place it somewhere in the Oval Office where it won’t be noticed or....”

“Your prosthesis? But...oh gawd...it’s gadgeted, isn’t it?”

Lee smirked, then, “I thought it might come in handy when it was being manufactured. Don’t worry, Cartwright agreed it might come in handy with a few extra gadgets than pure digital imaging to what’s left of my tattered optic nerve. And who knows? Might be useful, even outside of ONI or the White House. Hell, I don’t know.”

“Why not just pick it up yourself when you’re released. I’m not even supposed to be visiting you.”

“There is that...okay, plan B. As much as he dislikes, me, it’s not as if he can just kick me out of the residence without having somewhere to go or help packing. You’re my help. While he’s busy opening the new terminal at Dulles, you and I, or which of us is available, slip into the Oval Office with the eyeball. We turn on code 007, shove it someplace where not even housekeeping will notice, making sure the lens doesn’t face the wall.”

“Are you out of your mind? Sorry, didn’t mean it like that, Bro, the White House, the Oval Office, they’re the cleanest places on Earth! Not even a dust particle dare make its presence known....”

“Time’s up,” the nurse said, entering.

“Not now!” Lee and Joe shouted, causing her to dash out.

“If we manage this, how the hell are you going to be able to access it? And how are you going to explain having switched back to a glass eye?”

“Gentlemen,” the nurse returned, the secret service agent in tow.

“Okay, okay, he’s going...and Joe? Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, you idiot,” Joe grinned, saluted, and departed, his questions, and mine, unanswered.

Sparks disconnected his connection.

“Sorry, Jackson’s scramble wouldn’t last outside the room very long.”

“Very well,” I sighed. “Will, I know we didn’t get to see him stand up, but you get anything you needed?”

“Mentally, he seems perfectly cognizant to me. No hesitation in his train of thought. But we still don’t know if he has feeling in his legs or feet...”

“Oh gawd!” Riley exclaimed, “he’s gonna’ be paralyzed?”

“A couple of the images of the spinal nerves seemed to indicate damage enough to alter movement in his legs, or feet, or maybe just some toes...the images are rather inconclusive. As for brain damage, I’d have to say, though the MRI’s do show a possibility of minor damage, they don’t seem to match up with what we’ve just seen. In fact, the MRI’s of Lee’s brain don’t seem quite right to me...perhaps my imagination as I don’t want to accept the diagnosis. But I would like permission to fly to Washington to confer with his MRI techs, the doctors and the experts the surgeon general brought in. As Lee’s former CMO, they might actually want some of my input as to my previous observations of their patient...and I’d like to take Frank with me, or perhaps Kowalski.”

“I’m sorry,” Chip said, “in a war time situation I need Sick Bay fully staffed.”

“How about a teleconference?” Sparks asked.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Chip said. “See what you can do to convince them, Doc, Sparks.”

“Aye, sir, both said and I headed to the Wardroom for some badly needed nourishment. Maybe I’d have a hot chocolate instead of coffee, something that always calmed my nerves. And they were already almost shot to hell.

***

Two hot chocolates and three helpings of Mac & Cheese later, I headed back to the lab, but stopped at Sick Bay. Will was studying the MRI’s with Frank.

“Too bad they’re not the original transparencies,” Frank said, “but you’re right. Definite signs of possible brain damage...the poor skipper....”

“Hey, don’t give up on him yet, sir!” Ski said from Doc’s office while he filled out some standard forms for our records, busy work to be sure, meant to free the medical staff for more important things, like examining and treating any patients and checking the faxes of Lee’s MRI’s.

“That’s right,” I said from the doorway. “Were you able to get that teleconference set up?”

“No, damn them to hell!” Will fumed. “Access denied. Access denied, Access denied! Just because I’m aboard Seaview.”

“I’m so sorry, Will,” I said.

“You know,” Ski said, “there might be another way to get through to the MRI techs. Not exactly kosher but...any port in a storm....”

“Now, that’s thinking like an officer!” I grinned and picked up the mike, “Captain, come to my cabin. You, Doc, Ski and I are going to have a council of war.”

***

Ski’s plan was just too simple. The only problem was getting Edith to agree to it.

~***~

Chapter Eightenn