Glimmers in a Looking Glass
by Storm
Harriman Nelson glared in
frustration at the small silver machine sitting on the shelf across the room
from his desk, muttering profanities under his breath. The object of his
discontent was a priceless treasure trove of information from an alternate universe,
but unfortunately he didn’t have the key. Or rather in this case, the password.
His technology and computer scientists were chomping at the bit to be allowed
to dismantle the machine, but he wanted to first mine all the information he
could from it. Tough to do when he couldn’t get very far past the opening
screen.
A knock on the door
distracted him. “Enter,” he barked.
The door opened to reveal the
stiffly apprehensive figures of the captain and XO of his submarine, the Seaview.
He arched an eyebrow at them; he’d sent for the XO, not the captain.
“Is there something you need,
Commander?” He knew he shouldn’t take his disappointment at the lack of
progress out on his officers, but he’d racked his brain trying to figure out
what that Storm woman might have used as a password and so far come up empty.
“Yes,” the dark haired
commander fired back at him, “my XO back in one piece.”
Nelson stiffened in
indignation, but the almost frightened look on Morton’s face made him swallow
the scathing reply he’d been going to make. The last two weeks had been rough
on Seaview’s XO; everybody from ONI to the CIA had wanted to pick his
brains for technological information about the parallel universe he’d been
thrown into by a now discredited researcher. There’d even been one or two that
wanted to dissect him and see if there had been any physical changes from the
experience. Nelson had quashed those proposals in a hurry, but the very idea
had left Morton feeling both vulnerable and paranoid.
Sighing, Nelson motioned for
both men to sit. “Lee,” he said tiredly, “I just wanted to see if Chip had any
ideas on what Storm might have used as a password on that computer of hers. I’ve
tried everything I can think of.” He paused, giving a rueful shrug. “He was
around her for longer than we were - I was hoping he’d have a clue.”
Morton shook his head. “If
you’ve tried everything connected with us or the boat, then you’ve tried
everything I would.”
Running a hand through his
hair, Nelson blew out in frustration. “It might be something like a sibling,
boyfriend or pet’s name. We didn’t discuss anything like that while she was
here, but you might have overheard something while you were there. Surely this…
Voyage … business wasn’t her whole life.”
“Well, no.” Morton looked
thoughtful. “I remember that she was a geologist or something like that. It
could be a technical term from her profession.”
“Ah. I hadn’t thought of
that,” murmured Nelson.
More relaxed now that he knew
no one had arrived to haul him away, Morton dug deeper into his memory,
recalling his first meeting with the owner of the machine that was causing
Nelson so much vexation. And abruptly recalled that he’d first told her that
his name was Cody Bristol, which in that universe had been another character
played by his double, Bob Dowdell.
“I wonder…” he said
thoughtfully, catching Nelson’s attention.
“Did you think of something?”
“Maybe. Can I try it out?”
Morton stood and walked over to the shelf where the computer sat.
“Be my guest.” Nelson waved
expansively as he leaned back in his chair to watch.
Flipping up the laptop’s
cover and turning it on, Morton waited for the password screen to appear. Once
it was up he studied it carefully. There was a hint option. Selecting it, he
looked at the clue and began to chuckle. “Clever,” he said, then began typing
in various words as they popped into his mind, words that he associated with
Dowdell or his cousin Cody that could be also be connected with the hint.
The fourth try was the
jackpot.
The soft chime of the machine
announced that the operating program was loading. Nelson jumped to his feet,
amazed, and a little irritated as well. He’d spent two weeks trying to figure
out the password and come up empty.
“So what was it?”
“Nothing to do with Seaview
or us. Or geology for that matter. Everything to do with my actor double,
Dowdell.”
“Oh? How so?” Crane had
joined them when the chime had sounded.
“Cody Bristol. In this
universe my cousin, who is a rancher in North Dakota; in theirs another role
that Dowdell played. And something that I‘ll bet anybody who didn‘t know Storm
or Dowdell really well would ever think of, because it‘s not even remotely
associated with Voyage.”
“So what is it?” asked Nelson
gruffly.
“Cowboy.”
“How did you know? I looked
at the hint and didn’t have a clue,” growled the Admiral.
“Just what is the hint, Chip?”
asked Crane, intrigued.
“Two words. Ship shape.”
Morton was grinning.
“And Bristol fashion,”
finished the captain, laughing. “You have to have some knowledge of ships to
finish the saying and know who Cody Bristol is - and know that he’s a
cowboy. Sneaky bitch.” He shook his head, but his voice held tones of
admiration. “Sure she wasn’t a spook? She thinks like one.”
“Just a writer, or so she
claimed. I’d like to read some of her stuff. Wonder if any of it’s on this
thing?” Morton cocked his head to one side as he studied the icons and tried to
remember how she’d navigated through the screens. “Start. Hmmm.” A mouse click
produced the menu. At the top of the right side was the word DOCUMENTS. Another
click and a list of a dozen or more document files appeared.
By now Nelson and Crane were
both looking over Morton’s shoulder at the screen. “Let’s try opening the first
one,” suggested Crane. “Since she has them numbered, there must be a reason for
it.”
Morton clicked on the file
labeled cross currents 1a1 - Rite of Passage. The file title lit up but
the file itself failed to open.
“Try two quick clicks,” said
Nelson. “Seems to me I remember her doing that sometimes to get a program or
file to open.” Morton complied and was rewarded with the opening of the
Microsoft Works Word Processor screen, followed by the document file. The three
men leaned forward and began to read.
By the time they’d gotten to
the fifth page the color had drained from Nelson’s face. Taking a deep breath,
he stepped back to calm his flustered nerves. Crane and Morton joined him in
staring at the computer with the same apprehension they would a venomous
reptile.
“My God,” whispered Nelson, “It’s
uncanny how accurately she portrayed our conversation about Bishop, even though
that’s not exactly the same circumstances it happened in.”
Crane shivered at the
thought. “It’s almost like she was reading our minds.”
“Do we want to finish this?”
asked Morton, looking a bit uneasy.
Letting out a sigh, Nelson
nodded. “I think we’d better. If for no other reason than to ascertain just how
much these people do know.”
It was with great trepidation
that the three officers returned to the screen and the words thereon, but by
page six, not only had Nelson’s apprehension vanished, he and his two
subordinates were tying to hide smiles.
“Boy, has she got Chief Jones
and Bishop pegged,” commented Morton.
By page eight however, Morton
was muttering to himself under his breath, while Nelson and Crane read with
increasing delight. By page ten they were laughing outright while Morton was
looking daggers at the screen.
“Well,” Nelson said, when he
was finally been able to look at Morton without breaking into nearly hysterical
howls of glee, “she’s got the relationship between you two pegged pretty good
too.”
“This never happened!”
spluttered Morton, face flushed with indignation. “I got inducted into the
Bluenoses as a lieutenant j.g. on the Skate - NOT on the Seaview.”
“Not in our universe, anyway,”
admitted Crane, vainly attempting to stifle his own chuckles, “but you’ve got
to admit that it’s true to character.” His answer was a patented Morton glare
guaranteed to blister paint on a bulkhead at twenty paces.
Unfortunately for Morton, his
captain and Admiral were both pretty much immune to most of Morton‘s glares.
“I wonder just how familiar
Storm is with crossing ceremonies - what we’ve read so far is pretty accurate.”
Nelson was looking thoughtful.
“Only one way to find out,”
noted Crane with what was almost a smirk. “You want to see how it turns out,
Chip?”
“Not really,” growled the XO,
but he stepped back in front of the computer with the other two.
As the pages scrolled past,
Morton’s scowl deepened at the continuing chuckles of his two superiors. By
page twelve he was fairly quivering with outrage. But at the bottom of page
thirteen he went quite still, turning thoughtful - and it was Crane’s turn to
suddenly look apprehensive. The top of page fourteen confirmed the captain’s
worst fears.
“That’s wicked!” he blurted,
retreating to stand behind Nelson.
“Actually,” murmured Morton
as he fixed Crane with a predatory gaze, “it’s perfect. Sugar Glazed Captain -
I like it.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Crane
blustered. He turned to Nelson in desperation, “Admiral, tell him he can’t.”
“Chip….” The XO turned his
look on Nelson, who suddenly found himself wondering if Morton had the moxie
for Glazed Admiral - and decided that he probably did. “Never mind,
Chip. It’s between the two of you.” Nelson hadn’t made four star Admiral by
being a fool. He cleared his throat and turned back to the computer. “Just how
many stories are there on this thing?”
Taking his attention off
Crane for a moment, Morton turned back to the screen. “Do you remember how she
closed files, Admiral?”
“Hmmm. Try clicking the red X
in the upper right hand corner.”
The screen went back to the
kelp in water picture. Morton again pulled up DOCUMENTS and counted. “I see
fifteen. And a diary. That ought to be interesting,” he added drolly. Looking
further, he commented, “Wonder what this Voyage Net Stories thing is beside the
folder icon?” He clicked it open - and stared.
“Oh…My…God,” was Crane’s
response.
“Shit,” breathed Morton as he
scanned down the list. “There must be literally hundreds of files here.”
Filled with foreboding, he opened the first one.
It was, as they’d
feared, a Voyage to the Bottom of the
Sea fan fiction story, this one by someone named Alcott. He lifted his eyes
to meet Nelson’s.
“The rest of the Voyage
writers, I’d hazard to say.” Nelson just shook his head. “It never occurred to
me she’d have anything but her own files on this thing. But then she did say it
had - what - a thirty gigabyte hard drive? That’s a lot of storage space.” He
looked off into space for a moment, then sighed. “You know we’ll have to read
them all before we turn the computer over to the tech lab.”
His answer was a wail of
dismay from both of his officers.
END?