Xeno Activity Chapter 2 - Stories Online Edit 1

Posted: July 06, 2012 - 09:09:26 am====Corvallis, Oregon State University==== Sid Lemmon, true to his name, made a sour face as he glanced at the lottery ticket. Again the right combination of numbers had eluded him and with it the 12 Million Dollars in the Jackpot. He was sure some undeserving schmuck would get it. He crumpled the ticket into a small wad and tossed it quite skillfully into the waste basket almost 12 feet across the musky smelling, high ceiling room. Wooden glass cabinets lined most of the walls displaying a wide variety of Antarctic wild life, either stuffed and mounted or preserved in yellowish tinted formaldehyde or alcohol. It was all neatly labeled, cataloged and categorized. He sighed and returned to his work. Six samples of lichen in six collection containers. Dr. Sid Lemmon was a botanist and quite an authority on these so unassuming and to the layman quite boring symbiotic life forms. Whenever he had to tell someone what he was researching, he usually earned a yawn and all interest faded.

His expertise, however, had earned him a flight to the ISS space station and he was one of the chosen few who had ever been into space. His experiments had shown that certain Lichen could survive after being exposed to deep space, radiation and all. NASA was interested to see if Lichen could be used as the first step in a possible Terra-forming project of Mars, or perhaps with genetic engineering turned into something eatable for gardens of a Lunar Colony. All this was of course many decades away of even being more than just some basic ground research and with the current administration's total disinterest to fund even the most basic space exploration, it moved even further into the future.

He manipulated the slide under the microscope, the large high-definition screen next to him now showed the grayish green glob to be a fascinating wild garden of intricate forms. Just as he focused his attention and began to make observation notes, he heard the door open.

He had specifically chosen this out-of-the-way, back in the old building room because he loved the quietness in this part of the Oregon State University Campus and wondered who it was that had decided to disturb him and turned around.

He wanted to say something grumpy to whoever had entered his little sanctum but stopped short of saying anything as he was quite stunned by the beautiful red-head coming towards him. She wasn't a student and not one of the staff or facilities people. For some reason he expected her to have some sort of Gaelic accent.

"Are you Dr. Lemmon?" she asked with impatience clearly showing in her face. He grinned as his spontaneous intuition proved to be correct, even this short question was thickly laced with an accent that was certainly European.

"Who wants to know?" He asked back.

"Never mind answering my question. I see by your photo ID name tag, you are Dr. Lemmon. I am Sheilagh McMillian and I am outfitting an expedition to the South Pole. I was told you have been down to the South Pole quite a few times and are trying to get there again. When can you leave?"

Sid made a stopping motion with his hands. "Slow down, Ms. McMillian, there are a million questions I need to ask even before I could make such a decision. The first questions that come to mind are: Who are you exactly? Why is there such hurry? Where are we going exactly? As the South Pole is a mighty big place and last but not least, what is the actual purpose of the Expedition?"

She smiled, but it was not a very friendly one. "I am sorry Dr. Lemmon. I am just on a tight schedule and wasted an entire day trying to find you, since you never carry a cell phone."

"I simply don't like to be available for everyone and their dog at all times. There is an old land-line phone over there on the wall and the staff knows where I am," he explained to her and then he shook his head. "What am I doing explaining to you all this? Would you perhaps find enough time to sit down, take a deep breath and tell me why you are looking for me and what this is all about?"

She wore tight jeans giving evidence to a pair of very shapely long legs, and over it a shiny green Nylon windbreaker. She opened the brief-case she was carrying and produced a manila folder with a seal printed on it that he knew well, the logo of the Joint Special Operations Command.

Her smile became a little wider. She had a very pretty face with a porcelain complexion and he knew there were freckles under that natural look, barely there make-up effort of hers. Her nose was small, tilted upward, her lips big and painted red, matching the very dark coppery tone of her long locks surrounding her like an explosion in freeze frame. Most striking in her appearance were the large, almost impossibly large, deep green eyes. He was certain those eye lashes shadowing those flashing orbs of emerald were real, despite the fact that they had to be at least half an inch long. "I see you recognize the patch. You are hereby reactivated Lieutenant Commander Lemmon."

Sid's face clouded over and his watery blue eyes glared at her. "That life is over. I got my discharge from the Navy almost 10 years ago. And I am not and O4 either."

In all her professional energy to focus on her mission as she had to admit to herself that he was quite handsome. He had not shaved for several days by the looks of that bronzed stubble over his cheeks and pronounced jawbones. His sandy colored hair, cut high and tight, would still pass regulations. "You know better than that, you can be reactivated at any time, your VA records confirm your disability is down to ten percent."

She opened the manila folder and the passing glance she made over the documents inside told him she had read it before. "You solo-trekked across the Gobi desert, solo-trekked for months around the Arctic and Antarctic, explored caves and climbed several major mountains. Not to mention your trip to the ISS. That tells me you are as physically as fit as ever. Oh and before I forget it, congratulations are in order as your reactivation came with a promotion."

She turned walked to the door. "I will be right back; I just need to run one more errant. Please don't go anywhere. I would hate to spend another day searching for you." With these words and like a red haired Texas Tornado with a Scottish accent she was out the door. Sid stared at the closing glass and wood door and his eyes caught an old US flag on a stand, dusty gray and faded in the far corner.

His military career and old life with the SEALs was suddenly back. He thought he would never hear from them. Discharged as a cripple with a bullet from a Columbian Drug lord's assault rifle lodged in his spine. Half his guts chewed to bits by 7. 62 x 52mm rifle rounds, fired by the same gold toothed bastard. America wasn't very grateful or kind to its heroes, especially the wounded veterans. Unless you had been wounded in a real war, declared and sanctioned by the Congress your chances of help, support and care were next to nothing. Sid hated the System, hated the politicians who sent men like him in hell holes to do their bidding, to kill and be killed. He hated the liberal bastards who now ran pretty much everything, who had millions at hand if there was an Earthquake or some other national disaster in some far away country, but they didn't even have the 300 dollars for a wheel chair for a wounded vet without going through a mountain of paperwork and waiting lists.

Yes he hated them, but he never hated his country. He still got a lump in his throat every time he saw her fly, that Old glory. The students displaying their pierced and tattooed bodies, passing beneath her every day before they came on campus, oblivious to the fact that they could express themselves however they wanted because of what that flag really meant. He walked over to that old sun and time faded flag, brushed the dust off. No one on campus would dare to show a little patriotism because of their the fear to be stamped right-wing supporters and worse." Back then when I joined the navy, I made that commitment to you." He whispered to the flag," and if you call me again, even if it is most likely some fool's errand, I will go.