Meeting in the Park

Allan is introduced to STARS as an eighteen year old.

Allan stooped into the armored limousine, finishing his survey of the interior before the chauffer shut the door.  Nothing particularly interesting caught his eye, giving him nothing to analyze in the solitary mobile chamber for nearly an hour.  Instead, he navigated through his memory, trying to locate any information on the mysterious STARS institution.  After a thorough search, he concluded that he had never heard of the organization before Daniel Terrence’s recent introduction.

And that, combined with the unusually protected mode of transportation, ignited Allan’s curiosity.  Until the previous day, when Daniel Terrence had pulled him aside after a speech in Washington, D.C., on the possibility of lunar nuclear power plants, Allan had believed he was aware of every “secret” government program in existence.  Mr. Terrence’s surprising offer had shattered that assumption.

“How’d you like to help make the world a better place?” he had asked in an empty hallway.

Allan had smirked and prepared to leave.  “I’m already doing that, sir.”  People often approached him with similar openers, asking him to speak at an elementary school or tutor the struggling child of a wealthy family.  But Allan was burdened enough with the ineptitude of his colleagues, supposedly the brightest minds on Earth, and subjecting himself to any lower level of intelligence was sure to prove unbearable.

But Mr. Terrence’s unexpected response sparked his interest.  “How’d you like to work with people like you?”

The question confused Allan, but only for a moment.  “People like me?” he asked, and although he had a growing idea of its answer, he continued, “How do you mean?”

“Special people, Allan,” Mr. Terrence continued with a sincerely excited grin.  “People who can do truly extra-ordinary things.  You might be the smartest kid in the world, but you’re not the only one who’s the best at something; who can do things other people call impossible.”

“Extraordinary,” Allan corrected, “is one word.  You needn’t disconnect the prefix from the root.”

Mr. Terrence looked at his shoes, chuckling under his breath.  “Well, you’re not too special there, I’m afraid,” he said.  “My mother corrected my grammar all the time.  Never paid much attention, tell you the truth.”

“I believe you,” Allan said, refraining from further correction.

Mr. Terrence’s eyes met his, narrowed enough to convey the intended seriousness.  “I had the good ol’ government set me up a group a few years back to round up people like you.  I think you’d really enjoy working with us.  You’d still have plenty of time to work on your moon nukes, mind’ja, but over at STARS… well, even you could learn something from my people.  And that’s sayin’ something.”

Allan nodded in agreement, but before he could reply, Mr. Terrence started to walk away.

“We’ll have somebody pick you up at your hotel tomorrow,” he said.  “About six thirty, seven in the morning.  Hope that’s not a busy time for you.”

“Not at all,” Allan replied honestly.

“Just come meet the team,” Mr. Terrence yelled over his shoulder from halfway down the hall.  “If you don’t like us, you can jet.  But I’m bettin’ you’ll stick around.”

Now, as the limousine slowed to a stop and the bulletproof door opened at 6:58, Allan was surprised at where the windowless luxury-tank had taken him.  As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the morning sun, the sound of rambunctious children reached his sensitive ears.  He slid quickly to the edge of the bench, poking his head through the open doorway.  Indeed, the limousine was stopped on the curb of a suburban street at the bottom of a small, grassy hill.  Barely visible over the slope, but clearly audible, was a colorful playground.

Allan glanced unsurely at the chauffer.  “You’re sure this is the right place?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, waiting patiently with his hand on the top of the door.  Frowning, Allan rose out of the car, straightening his tie and buttoning his suit jacket indignantly.

“Where am I to meet Mr. Terrence?” he asked sharply.  The chauffer responded by pointing up the hill.  With a heavy sigh, Allan started to climb it, hoping the grass wasn’t wet enough to leave clippings on his polished shoes.

At the top of the hill, Allan took a better look at the playground.  An obnoxiously disorganized “big toy,” as they were called, stood bravely in the center of a bark-filled square lot.  To the side was a swing set, a mess of multilayered monkey bars, and a merry-go-round.  Noises of creaking plastic, squeaking chains, and screechy children drilled into Allan’s brain, instantly giving him a headache.  He growled, searching for Mr. Terrence among the adults seated around the lot.

He found him.

“Good to see you, Allan!” he said as the young man approached.  “Hope the ride was comfortable.”

“Excessively,” Allan replied, sitting beside Terrence on a wooden bench.

The older man grinned questioningly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The vehicle was designed to withstand bullets, even explosions.  Such protection seems unnecessary.”

Terrence laughed.  “Well, sure, it might have been a little much for that particular ride.  All our cars are decked out for safety in case of… uh… perilous circumstances.  That happened to be our most luxurious.”

“All of your cars?” Allan asked suspiciously.  “Why such security, Mr. Terrence?  I thought you ran an institution for intelligent people.”

“Mr. Terrence?  I haven’t heard that name in ages.  Everybody calls me Danny,” he said with a friendly smile.  “And I said we have special people, Allan.  People that can do�"”

“Impossible things,” Allan interrupted.  “I remember.  But why were you inclined to use your most luxuriously disguised war vehicle to bring me here, of all places?”

His face did not hide his disgust as he watched a group of dirty children wrestle in the mulch.  Terrence shook his head with a patient grin.  “You don’t like kids, Allan?”

“Not in the least,” he replied honestly, straightening the creases in his pant legs.

“Why not?”

Allan shot the mysterious recruiter a questioning look.  “Because they are spontaneous, thoughtless blobs of excessive skin and solidifying bone with little more in their favor than potential.”

Terrence raised his brow interestedly.  “Potential for what?”

“To manifest their evolutionary advantages over the less intelligent life forms walking this planet with them.”  He cleared his throat, slightly adjusting the knot of his tie.  “Unfortunately, few of today’s children�"if any�"truly reach their potential, or even a fraction of it.  They allow the technology their ancestor’s proudly developed to keep them at a level of intelligence comparable to their nearest evolutionary relative.”

“The ape?” Terrence guessed.

"Debatable," Allan answered vaguely, gazing uninterestedly at a passing cloud.

Author's Note

The next chapter is part of this one. If you'd like, you can wait to review there... or go ahead and leave two. I wouldn't mind.