Intervention: A Science Fiction Adventure Page 9

  “Please come in, Professor.”

  “Have you had a chance to get settled in yet?” the professor asked as they entered the study.

  “Yes, thank you.” Christopher pulled his chair out from the desk and motioned to the chair next to the desk. “Please have a seat, Professor.”

  As they sat down, the professor suddenly felt a little like the student. Even though the person sitting in front of him was clearly a pre-teen with lanky arms and legs, there was something unusually mature about Christopher.

  The professor said, “I thought I might take you to the cafeteria for dinner and we could discuss your first year’s workload. I don’t want to overload you right off the bat.”

  Christopher pulled open the file drawer in the desk and produced a sheet of paper, and handed it to the professor. “I wrote down what I thought would be a good schedule for my first semester while I was waiting for you to arrive.”

  Professor Stevens looked at the paper for a moment. His eyes got a little larger. He looked up at Christopher, then back at the paper. “Christopher, you can’t possibly expect to handle all these classes during your first semester at MIT. This is a bigger workload than most seniors have.”

  “I’ve examined each of these courses and their requirements, calculated the necessary hours of study time, allowing time for eating and sleeping, and I don’t see any problem. Remember, Professor, I’m twelve years old. I don’t date or go drinking with fraternity brothers. I came here to study and learn, and that’s all. The knowledge available here is like one big puzzle that I can’t wait to solve.”

  “I must admit, Christopher, you’re an amazing young man. If you feel that strongly about such a workload, I won’t stop you. But at any time I feel it’s too much for you, we’ll have to make the necessary adjustments. Okay?”

  “Sure, Professor Stevens. Can we go eat now? I’m getting pretty hungry.”

  “Sure, let’s go.”

  While they ate and talked some more, the professor felt certain that the next few years working with Christopher and following his progress were going to be very interesting, to say the least. Christopher was, without a doubt, the most intelligent, organized, analytical, yet down-to-earth and just plain nice student the professor had ever met in his thirty some years at the school.

  * * *

  Christopher worked hard and studied relentlessly. The only interactions he had with other students was when they discussed their studies. Many of the students didn’t quite know what to make of their young classmate. Christopher never became involved in social events on campus, even though he was invited on several occasions. It wasn’t that he was antisocial, he just really didn’t have the time. His workload kept him busy around the clock. Besides, he was more interested in what he was learning than how many people could fit into a Volkswagen. If he did have any spare time, it was spent keeping up with his somewhat new interest: world news.

  Part of the deal Christopher had with the school was that they would pay for his round-trip ticket home for any and all holidays. Christopher took full advantage of this with every holiday. He seemed to enjoy these trips home to spend a little time with his parents, as much as he liked his studies.

  This went on year after year. Christopher never did take a summer vacation, with apologies to his parents. He was building a resume of degrees at an unprecedented rate, and he was finally starting to fill out his lanky body. Professor Stevens was anything but disappointed with Christopher’s work. Those who had any contact with Christopher were amazed, and couldn’t help but like him. Even though he was a little quiet and didn’t usually say much off the subject of his studies, he retained a down-to-earth and easy going way about him. He didn’t seem to have any interest in the opposite sex. As he approached his later teens, plenty of female students found him not only likeable, but quite attractive. After all, he was turning into a handsome young man. He just never seemed to notice they’re subtle flirtations. He was, after all, quite preoccupied.

  Young women weren’t the only ones interested in Christopher as he approached his later teems. He was approached more and more often by large corporations and the military as well. Christopher wasn’t interested. He knew what he wanted to do and his patience would pay off, but not until he was nearing his twenty-first birthday.

  A letter came in the mail. The name on the letterhead was the one he had been waiting to see: Central Intelligence Agency.

  Christopher smiled. The letter was a simple invitation and gave a name and number to contact if he was interested. Of course he was interested. This was what he had been waiting for. After a few days of sorting out his thoughts and priorities, he made the call to Agent Johnson. Christopher couldn’t help but wonder if his name was really Johnson. He smiled and kind of laughed to himself, thinking this was going to be fun.

  Chapter Six

  Made in the Shade

  After parking the van the school had provided, Christopher went to the gate at the airport as he had been instructed. There he met Agent Johnson, who, after a brief greeting, led Christopher to a doorway. As they passed through the door and out onto the tarmac, Christopher saw a sleek plain black Learjet sitting by itself in the morning sun.

  “Let’s get aboard,” Agent Johnson said emotionlessly. “We’ll be taking off straight away.”

  An attractive young lady showed Christopher to a seat, saying, “Hello, Christopher. I’m Monica. It will be a fairly short flight. Once we’re in the air, I’ll check back and see if you’d like something to drink. Don’t forget to buckle your seat belt.”

  The young lady pushed a button, which closed the door automatically, as the engines came to life. A moment later, the sleek black jet taxied to the end of the runway, turned onto the runway, and in a flash was airborne. Once the plane leveled off, the young lady returned as promised. “Would you like something to drink now, Christopher?”

  Even though Christopher had gotten used to people knowing his name before he knew theirs, this wasn’t school. He was impressed. Then again, this was the C.I.A. and they probably knew everybody’s name.

  “Do you have any orange juice?” Christopher asked politely.

  “Certainly. Would you like some more coffee agent Johnson?”

  “Please,” he responded.

  “I’ll be right back,” Monica said as she turned and headed for the galley.

  It seemed to Christopher that he had barely finished his orange juice when he felt the plane slow and begin to descend. They came in fast and smooth, almost gliding onto the runway. The pilot, taxied the aircraft to an isolated hangar, pulling the plane right in before bringing it to a stop. Monica pushed the button by the door, and the door opened as magically as it had closed.

  “We’re here,” Agent Johnson said as he got up from his seat. “Shall we?”

  Agent Johnson led Christopher out a door to a plain dark blue Ford sedan parked outside the hangar. Once in the car, Christopher fastened his seat belt and they were off. “It’s about a ten-minute ride to the agency. Agent Johnson is expecting you.”

  Christopher couldn’t help but smile. Are they all named Johnson?

  As if reading his thoughts, the agent said, “In case you’re wondering, we’re the only two Johnson’s in this area; no relation.”

  They walked up to the front entrance of the CIA building. Christopher felt a great feeling of satisfaction. He was about to walk through the doors he had long been waiting to pass through. Pride surged through him as they walked over the large round logo in the foyer’s floor as they approached the elevators. They got off the elevator on the seventh floor and walked down to the end of the hall to a very important looking office.

  As they entered, Agent Johnson spoke to a woman sitting behind a desk in the outer office. “Hi, Marge. This is Christopher Adams.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you later, Christopher,” and left closing the door behind him.

  “Hello, Christopher. I’m Marge. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and I’ll te
ll Agent Johnson you’re here,” she said with a nice smile.

  Christopher sat in one of the seats for only a moment before Marge spoke up. “You can go in now, Christopher.”

  “Thank you.”

  Christopher couldn’t help but notice how large the office was.

  “Hello, Christopher. I’m Agent Johnson.” He smiled and said, “The other one. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please have a seat.”

  Christopher shook his hand and sat in one of the chairs in front of Agent Johnson’s desk.

  “I’ve been monitoring your progress ever since Professor Stevens made me aware of you several years ago. It seems Professor Stevens thinks you’re quite an amazing young man. Judging by your record and rate of advancement, I’d have to agree. He says you have quite an interest in decryption. We do a little bit of that here, you know.”

  “Yes. I know,” Christopher responded.

  “That’s why I’ve asked you here today.” There was a buzzing sound on Agent Johnson’s desk. “Excuse me,” he said as he picked up the phone. “Good. Send him in.”

  The door opened and an older gentleman entered. Agent Johnson stood and walked out from behind his desk to greet the man. Christopher stood as well. “Hi, Bill. Bill, this is Christopher Adams, the young man I was telling you about. Christopher, this is Bill Brandon. He’s in charge of the cryptology department.”

  Christopher met Bill’s extended hand and shook it. “Hello Christopher. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Brandon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Bill, why don’t you take Christopher down to your department and show him around.” Turning to Christopher, he said, “We’ll talk some more when you get back.”

  “Come on, Christopher. I’ll give you the fifty-cent tour,” Bill said as he led Christopher out of Agent Johnson’s office and down the hall to the elevators.

  The door opened on the fourth floor to a reception desk. “Barb, meet Christopher Adams.”

  Bill led Christopher through a mass of partitioned cubicles filled with people busily going about their business. They stopped at one of the first cubicles. “This is where you would start if you decide to come on board. This is Jim Walker. Jim, meet Christopher Adams.”

  Bill explained, “Jim’s working on this code encryption,” he said, pointing to the chalkboard full of jumbled letters not seeming to make any sense.

  “It’s a code developed by a splinter Arab faction we believe to be involved in several terrorist bombings in the Middle East over the past couple years.” Jim inserted, “I’ve only been working on this one for about three weeks. This one’s pretty tough for such a small faction. The codes these splinter groups develop aren’t usually this complex; however, this one’s turning out to be quite a hair puller.”

  Christopher looked at the chalkboard for a moment, then looked at Bill and asked, “May I?”

  “Bill looked at Jim for any objections, and seeing none, said, “Sure. If you have any idea, I’m sure Jim would welcome it.”

  Christopher looked back to the chalkboard for a moment, then pointing at several areas of the text, turned to Jim. “I may be wrong, but it looks like they not only substituted letters for letters, as one would expect in any encryption, but there it looks like they also jumbled the words within each sentence, and the sentences within the paragraphs.”

  Jim and Bill both looked very hard at the chalkboard for a moment. Then Bill said, “I think he’s onto something here, Jim.”

  “I think you’re right, Bill. If I substitute this sentence for this one here, it makes a lot more sense. Then I can start to unjumble the words within the sentences. By God, I think you’re right, Christopher. That’s amazing. How did you—”

  Bill interrupted, “There’s a lot more I want Christopher to see. Besides, it looks like you have some work to do.”

  Jim bid Christopher goodbye, “Thanks, Christopher. I’ll let you know how it turns out.” Bill looked at Christopher, “Maybe I should see about an office for you.”

  Bill led Christopher through the rest of the cubicles, introducing him to several other people along the way. Bill couldn’t help but think of what he had seen Christopher do back at Jim’s cubical. He had never seen anyone figure out a code of such complexity in just a brief moment. To Bill, this was nothing short of amazing. He knew right then that Christopher was special—very special. He couldn’t wait to tell Agent Johnson. Once he was aware of what had happened, he would certainly want to revise his offer to Christopher.

  Bill led Christopher to a door with the warning “restricted area” in bold letters on the door. Next to the door on the wall was a keypad with a card swipe. Bill swiped his card and then entered a series of numbers on the keypad. The yellow light that had appeared went out and now a green light lit up and a buzzer sounded briefly, indicating the door could now be opened. Bill turned to Christopher. “I saved the best for last. I think you will like this.”

  Bill opened the door and Christopher followed him into a large room filled with the largest computer Christopher had ever seen. It made the computer he had worked with at school look like a toy.

  “What do you think?” Bill said proudly.

  “It’s beautiful,” Christopher replied.

  It wasn’t the answer Bill would have expected, but after what he had seen Christopher do a little earlier, it somehow seemed to fit. “This is the largest and fastest computer in the world. We fondly refer to it as ‘Mega Bucks.’ A play on words, but, actually quite accurate if you consider the price tag. We use this baby to work on super codes, mostly Russian, but anything we can’t break the old-fashioned way gets fed into Mega Bucks here. As fast as it is, it’s still pretty time-consuming when trying to decipher some of the tougher codes. It’s been working on the latest Russian code for the last seven weeks nonstop, and still no luck. You wouldn’t want to take a crack at that one, would you?” Bill said jokingly.

  “Actually, I can’t wait,” Christopher responded sincerely. “Of course, I can’t right now, but I really look forward to getting to work on a real challenge.”

  “I think it’s safe to say you’ll get the chance. Well, that’s about it here, so why don’t we go back upstairs.”

  * * *

  “So, what do you think of our little operation, Christopher?” Agent Johnson asked as he motioned for them to sit down. Christopher and Bill sat in the seats in front of the desk.

  “It’s very nice,” Christopher responded.

  “Well, I’m glad you feel that way. I’m going to come right to the point—”

  “Excuse me, Agent Johnson,” Bill interrupted. “Christopher, I wonder if you might excuse us for a moment. You can wait outside with Marge.”

  “Sure.” Christopher got up and went into the outer office to wait.

  After he was gone, Bill continued, “I’m sorry to cut you off like that, but before you make him an offer, I thought you should know what happened downstairs.”

  “Go on,” Agent Johnson responded.

  Bill continued, “Well, I was introducing Christopher to some of the people downstairs. Jim Walker was one of the first. He’s been working on a pretty tough code we intercepted from a group of Arab terrorists. Well, we were standing at his cubical when out of the blue Christopher told him how the code was encrypted. Just like that. He had only seen the code on the chalkboard for less than a minute. Jim’s been working on that code for over three weeks, and he wasn’t any closer to solving it now than he was three weeks ago. I’m telling you, it was the darndest thing I’d ever seen.”

  Agent Johnson thought for a moment. “Are you sure there wasn’t something, I mean, some way he could have been wrong?”

  “Not a chance. I’m telling you, I’ve been doing this for nearly twenty-five years, and I thought I had seen it all. That is, until today. I’ve never seen anything like it. He made Jim and I both feel like a couple of beginners.”

  “All right, what you want me to do?” Agent Johnson as
ked.

  Bill went on, “Make your offer one he can’t refuse. He’s definitely not even close to entry level like we thought. I know what you’re going to say. He has to learn procedures. If what I just saw is any indication, he could learn our procedures before lunch and know them better than we do by dinner. I think at least level three. And throw in a nice office, too. Just don’t lose him.”

  Agent Johnson leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. An offer like Bill was proposing would be unprecedented. “All right,” Agent Johnson finally replied as he leaned up and pressed the button on his intercom. “Marge, would you ask Christopher to come back in, please?”

  Christopher went back into Agent Johnson’s office. “Have a seat, Christopher,” Bill said as he motioned to the seat next to his. “Christopher, I’m about to make you the best offer I’ve ever made anyone. Bill told me you did something downstairs that he thinks was nothing short of extraordinary. He thinks we should bring you in as a level three, which would mean you would get your own office instead of a cubicle. I trust Bill’s judgment. Our benefits and retirement plan are the best, not to mention a lot of perks most people couldn’t even imagine. Along with all that, I think you should receive the appropriate level 3 salary of $85,000 a year. You don’t have to give me an answer right away.” Agent Johnson looked for a response.

  It didn’t take but a fleeting moment for Christopher to answer, “I’d like that very much. There is one thing though—I would like to finish out the year in school. I just like to finish anything I start. I hope you understand.”

  “That’s not a problem. As a matter of fact, I admire that quality in a person.” Agent Johnson reached and pushed a button on his intercom. “Marge, would you page the other Agent Johnson to my office, please?” Turning his attention back to Christopher, he said, “We had better get you back. If you should have any questions, or if you have problems, just give me a call.” He handed Christopher a business card, followed by Bill giving him one of his cards. “If I’m not available, talk to Bill here. One of us will always be available, but if we’re not, just leave a message with Marge. She can always find me twenty-four hours a day.” The intercom buzzed on the desk. Agent Johnson picked up the phone. “Thank you, Marge,” Agent Johnson stood and came out from behind his desk, extending his hand to Christopher. “It’s been a pleasure, Christopher. I look forward to having you on the team. I’ll see you soon.”