I meet General Whitman and his entourage at the Institute gate. I can tell just by watching the way he gets out of the unmarked black SUV that he’s the most military of all the military guys I’ve ever worked with, and he’s not even in the army anymore. Even in a suit rather than a uniform, he might as well have medals pinned across his chest. His graying hair still sports a crew cut above his clean-shaven face, and he walks with his spine positively rigid. He seems to radiate an aura of command. The two men and two women following him don’t have the same army vibe to them, I’m guessing at least three of them are scientists or engineers. The other one is the familiar face of Maria Hall.
“You’re Noah Kimball?” Whitman asks as I extend a hand to shake. “Director of the Butler Institute and current pain in my ass?”
Despite his words and harsh tone, my biometric readings for him don’t indicate any hostility. He takes my hand in a firm but not uncomfortable grip. Not what I was expecting. If anything, I suspect that he’s actually feeling friendly toward me. Is their whole agency in the Butler fan club?
“I am. And I believe that you are General George Whitman, formerly a four star general in the US Army, now working in a civilian role as Chief of the Critical Technology Task Force, and hopefully someone that can help us track down an estranged family member who presents a danger to us and everyone else.”
“Yes. The elusive Jeff Butler. We’ve had our best people working on his case since January without a dog turd’s worth of progress to show for it. I guess it speaks well of old Tom’s information network that you kids found him first.”
Kids again. They really think we’re just children. Hmm. Better not to disabuse him of the idea. Maybe we can find a way to make it work for us.
“You sound like you knew my father.”
He inclines his head slightly, the first bend in his neck since he got out of the SUV. “Tom and I went way back. I was a young captain on the scene when he first did his tricks with those nanobots and saved us all. He was a good man, your dad. Never had a problem with him in all the years we worked together. Kept everything clean and in order, and always filed his paperwork on time. Made my current job nice and easy.”
I quickly scan through my electronic brain to make sure that all our required filings with his agency since Father died have been correct and timely. “I’m sorry for the current problems, but we’d definitely like to get back to having the Butler Institute be a help for your group rather than extra work.”
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“Not your fault,” he barks. “It’s that animal bastard brother of yours that we need to take down. What kind of sick monster child kills his own father? Makes me want to punch through a brick wall just thinking of it.”
It’s moments like these that I don’t mind having my sense of guilt completely broken. That one would have hurt.
“Not like you and the rest of your brothers and sisters,” he continues. “We’ve been watching what you’ve been up to. The Pacific garbage cleanup, the work you did over in ‘Nam? Old Tom would have been proud of what you’re doing.”
I make a note to thank Sheryl and her PR team for another win. I wouldn’t have thought that their work would have this much impact. “Thank you, sir.”
Sir? Where did that come from? Why am I calling him sir? What am I, my assistant Alan? But it seems to fit the retired general too well to not say it.
“And losing that brother of yours last year. Chad. Damn shame. Damn shame. What a real hero, putting his life on the line like that. That’s the sort of grit we need more of in this world.”
I almost laugh, but suppress it before it can show on my face. The retired general is another Chadette. Are they still called Chadette’s if they’re guys? I’ll have to ask Lin later.
“What a fine legacy for old Tom to leave behind. Last time I saw him he was still just a stubby little thing.” He looks around the commons, his eyes lingering on the various buildings. “It’s been almost ten years, but the old place hasn’t changed much, has it?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir. I only came to the Institute a couple of years ago. I was raised by my mother in Colorado.”
“That’s right. That’s right. The one that Tom was always saying he hoped would come back one day. Glad that worked out for you. Last time I was here, the mess hall over there was maybe half the size it is now, and those barracks there,” he points at the dorms, “were a couple of floors shorter. The rest all looks just like I remember it.”
“I hate to interrupt, General Whitman,” Maria says, stepping forward. “But we really should get to work. We’ve got teams waiting on the intel we’re getting today.”
“Of course.” The man turns back to me. “Let’s get down to it. I understand you’ve got some things to show us and tell us about.”
“Yes, sir.” Sir again. I don’t know how that keeps slipping out of my mouth whenever I talk to him. Is this what it’s like to be Alan talking to me? I don’t have any of this magical aura of command that the old general has, do I? At least I never thought I did. Something to think about later. “Come right this way.”