My Christmas Eve Story. I Was Lost then Found. A Modern Day Miracle.

Merry Christmas Troops!
It's Christmas Eve. Are you wondering what happened to the year like me? It was just Halloween, then Thanksgiving and now Christmas! It will be 2010 in a snap. Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?

Just wait until January, February, March and April...... Yes the long dry spell of routine - highlighted with cold temperatures, snow, rain, school and more school. Our week long Spring Vacation will break the drought. The rest of the year will sail by after we return from Spring Vacation.

The long dry spell is hard on our Space Center daytime staff. We will be doing the same thing, saying the same thing, telling the same missions and teaching the same classes pretty much non-stop. It can be a bit mind numbing. Its kind of like working at at an amusement park.
"Please step into the vehicle. Hands up while the bar drops. Please keep your hands and legs into the car at all times. Hold on and enjoy the ride." Yes, we cycle people in and out of our ships day in and day out. It will be a true challenge to stay focused and fresh. I'm trusting the staff will be up to the job. We've been doing it for 19 years and will continue to do it for as long as the District tolerates us.

My Day of Shopping

I went out shopping today. What a shock to my system. Since when did so many people move to Utah County? Where did all the cars come from? Remember, my world is primarily five miles or so in diameter and very insulated. I get up, walk to school down very empty neighborhood streets. Work my ten hours or so, put my coat back on and walk home on pretty empty streets. My day is spent in an elementary school that has held steady at around 500 students for the 27 years I've been here. Central is one of the smallest schools in the Alpine District. Staff arrive from the Other World to work our missions and then disappear back to the Other World when the missions are finished.

Occasionally it is necessary to venture outside my sanctuary. Even then I don't go that far. I gas up at Walkers and shop at the Lindon Walmart, all within a mile or two from my home. My bubble expands when I visit family and go to a movie but even then it is occasionally. I live in a very sheltered, seemingly rural, innocent place.

Today my eyes were open to the horrors of modern life outside my tranquil shell. The traffic reminded me of New York City. Cars everywhere. So many in fact there were times I just held my breath, said a quick "Hail Mary" and pressed on the gas hoping someone in the never ending line of oncoming traffic would take pity on an old duffer in a big Lincoln and let me in unmolested. It worked, for the most part. I was only honked at twice. I felt pretty good about that.

The lines at the traffic lights stretched forever. So far in fact that sometimes I'd get in the turning lane for a light you couldn't see in the distance. I inched my way up over several light cycles until it was my turn to turn. Even then I rarely got the green arrow. It was usually me pulling out into the intersection where I'd wait for a break in the oncoming traffic to make my turn. That was dangerous in its own right. Today the break rarely came so I'd sit there until my light changed from green to yellow and finally to red. Of course, I didn't dare go on the yellow, or the red. I had to wait until I was sure the oncoming traffic was stopped. That usually meant holding up traffic from the other two directions. Pleasant isn't a word I'd use to describe the mood of the cars waiting for my hugh Battlestar to maneuver the turn, catch the wind and sail free of the intersection.

Finding a parking place was laughable. Luckily I planed ahead for that and brought hiking boots, a canteen and energy bars for the long trek from the last parking place in the 30 acre lot to the store's entrance. I'm happy to report that WalMart was prepared and had drink and first aid stations set up at regular intervals throughout the lot to rescue and rehydrate exhausted hikers. It was so bad at the Orem WalMart that the Salvation Army swapped the Red Kettle and bell ringer for a 50 cot MASH aid station caring for the holiday's shopping casualties. I stopped for a moment to take a whiff or two of pure oxygen. A nurse took my blood pressure. I think I was OK. They let me go.

The interior of the stores were a nightmare. Shopping carts were everywhere, leading dazed shoppers aimlessly around the store in a macabre version of bumper cars, only with carts. Children swung from the overhead light fixtures, giving one the feeling of jungle life. Every check out was open, even the ones not used since the middle of the Cold War. They were the ones with the big, non computerized cash registers where the cashier had to manually enter each price into the machine. Forget any sense of accuracy. Every employee of the store was manning a register so forget getting help with an item. It was a mad house. Some shoppers paid a bit extra for the shopping carts with GPS units attached so they could be found if they didn't return within a certain amount of time. The local Search and Rescue Teams were on hand to "go in" if necessary.

In one store the managers stood on tall ladders in every department directing traffic up and down the aisles with large megaphones and exaggerated arm waving. I found the fire brigade and paramedics at another store. They were called in to treat the wounded from a multi cart pile up near frozen foods. It was ugly, bodies everywhere, not to mention the horror of seeing civilization nearly break down completely as other shoppers were arrested for picking through the purses and wallets of the fallen. It was horrible. A sad commentary of modern life.

By the time I reached Target I was nearly done for. It seemed all was lost. It seemed the world was at an end. I began wondering if life was still worth living. I got out of my car a good 3 miles from the store's doors and started to walk. What I saw caused my heart to numb. Bodies of shoppers everywhere. Some half in their cars and half out, others overcome while loading their purchases in their trunks. The smell of exhaustion's fumes tainted the air. I felt all holiday joy ebbing from my body. I sank to the tarmac ground, I could hear the sound of wild, rabid dogs nearby. I thought all was lost.... and then, a miracle. I heard singing. It was coming from my left. It was the sound of Christmas carols.

I struggled to my feet. Pulling every ounce of strength out of my being I walked. Ten minutes later I came into a clearing. In front of me was a congregation of shoppers, all gathered around what appeared to be a Priest standing high on the top of a large Hummer. He led the crowd in holiday songs and urged us onward. He reminded us of the true meaning of Christmas. He told us that with God on our side nothing was impossible.
"Remember your families waiting for you back home," he shouted. "Don't forsake them. Find the strength to continue. Do it for them. DO IT FOR THEM!"

The crowd cheered. I felt new breath filling my lungs. Yes, I could get through this day. I could make it back to Pleasant Grove. Yes, this could still be a Happy Christmas.

With my new found strength I persevered and finished what I had to do. I made it home. All is well now. All is well.

Happy Christmas Troops. May your Holidays be full of fun, good food and good company.

Mr. Williamson

News on Training, Promotions and Randomn Thoughts of Little to No Importance.

Wyatt L. Running the Odyssey this Saturday. He was shaking and quivering so badly due to nerves the picture actually came out blurry.

Hello Troops,
Christmas vacation is so close you can taste and smell it. You know, I was thinking the other day about alien invasions. I decided, after careful consideration of all facts, that the best time for an alien invasion of Earth would be right after Christmas. Here is my reasoning: Humans eat and eat and then eat some more during the holidays. This non stop feasting results in heavier humans. If the aliens ultimate goal is to.....well.... you know, then right after Christmas would be the best time to invade and herd the cattle into the stockyards, so to speak.
Just something to consider as you make your post holiday plans. Keep your eyes on the skies and if you see bright lights, head for hills.

Now for the News.

Wyatt L is training for Flight Directing in the Odyssey. He ran the first chair position for most of the Overnight Camp this past weekend.
"He's doing survivably well," Emily said when questioned about Wyatt's performance. I watched him for a spell. I thought he did pretty good, except for the few occasions he resembled a deer caught in the headlights. Its that look we get from trainees when they're trying to drink from a fire hose and everything is happening at the same time and everything is bearing down on top of them at once and several things are waiting for their attention and they become so sensory overloaded that the only thing their body can do to compensate is freeze, go blank, and wait in the center of the road for the inevitable.

Keep going Wyatt. According to all indications you're on schedule and doing well in your training.

Josh being congratulated by Brittney, the Magellan Set Director, and her Side Kick and fellow Magellan Flight Director Zac H. Tecnically Zac shouldn't be in the picture but when he saw me taking this picture he couldn't resist and jumped right in. Luckily, Josh had two hands.

And now for Josh A. Josh worked hard, flight after flight, to get his Magellan and Voyager passes. His hours of work paid off on Saturday when Mr. Daymont shocked the Space Center World by announcing that Josh A. received his last Magellan pass. Josh made it into the prestigious club of Blue Shirted Supervisors. He gets his special pass that allows him access the 4th grade restrooms. He gets to stand and stare at the black shirt volunteers. He gets to give orders and actually expect them to be carried out! He gets to talk to me and have me really listen instead of pretending (which I do very well). He gets to have first pick of our sorry collection of sleeping pads, dredged out from under the stage every weekend. He gets to sit at the same table as others who wear the collar during our gathering times at 11:00 P.M. Friday and 10:30 A.M. Saturday.

Ah yes, the pleasure I get from presenting someone with their Supervising Shirt. I enjoy their enthusiasm. I enjoy their drive. I enjoy seeing the hope it gives those caught in the black T-Shirt collective to see one of their own fight and claw his way out of the pit and into the light. But most of all, I enjoy seeing them walk up and down the school's halls rubbing their blue collar between their index finger and thumb. Its their polite way of drawing attention to themselves without actually shouting "Everybody Look At ME." It is a polite way to say, "Look at me everyone. Look at what I've done. If you're not impressed you should be. Notice me. Notice the collar. Yes, it really is me. I'm still Josh - just not 'like' you any more. I have Ascended."

Congratulations Josh on your Supervising Shirt. You're a fantastic volunteer and we are honored you share you time with us.

Mr. Williamson

An Enemy From the Dark. Ch. 12. A Discovery.

Carick descended through the center of the ship along the turbolift access shaft. He tried to think of something, other than the fact that his ship was captured by aliens and he didn’t have a clue what was happening. Half way down the ladder, he started to think about the ship’s artificial gravity. He was climbing down to Main Engineering but in space there was no up or down. His down was down, simply because that’s where the ship’s Mass Gravity Generator was located, and the MGG created and regulated the gravity of the starship. Turn off the MG and everyone and everything not bolted down starts floating.

He stopped several times to rest his arms and legs. He wasn’t in a hurry.  You can make mistakes when you're in a hurry and Carick couldn’t afford mistakes. There was too much at stake. Halfway to the Engineering Deck he passed a computer access terminal. With fingers crossed, he tapped the screen. The screen came to life one half second later, flashing a series of rebooting numbers. He tapped for silence mode. He knew the sound of the computer’s voice would attract unwanted attention.

Carick tapped for the main computer. An error message appeared. That was good. If he couldn’t access the main computer, then neither could their captors. He tried to load the sub routines. Inner ship scans were kind of working, at least in the undamaged sections of the ship. That was good and bad. If he could scan for life forms, then so could they - whoever ‘They’ were. He scanned for human life. Green dots appeared on the screen. Several of them in the shuttle bay. The scan was glitchy so he couldn’t be sure of numbers. Other life forms appeared as red dots. There were twenty two of them by his count, four of whom were in the Shuttle Bay. Carick assumed they were guarding his crew. Main Engineering had one green and four red dots. Carick tapped out of Life Sans and accessed Security Functions. His luck was holding. He found the ship's security codes.

Before they made their daring escape from Starbase, Tex had promised Carick to code Carick's voice into the main computer. He hoped Tex had taken the time to do it. He tapped the ‘Identify’ key and entered his personal ID code. The computer screen requested he speak his name. He tapped to continue and waited for the green bar, his cue to start talking.

“Cadet Captain Carick,” he said. The screen changed from green to white. 'Cadet Captain Carick Recognized' flashed on the screen. He was in. “Yes!” Carick shouted. He clamped his free hand over his mouth the instant the words came out.  What was he thinking?  That last thing he needed was to alert the intruders to his presence.

Using his new command access, he tried to enter the main frame, only to be turned back by error messages. Carick attempted to lock down the shuttle bay to prevent his crew from being taken. Locking down the shuttle bay didn’t work. He grew frustrated. He located the Security Systems and the Intruder Alert alarm. "What'll happen if I push this," he whispered to himself, but considering the circumstances, he felt he had no other choice. He tapped the screen. Red text appeared asking for his voice authorization.  "Cadet Captain Carick," he whispered and tapped ‘OK’.  "Authorization Denied" the screen responded. "What's wrong," Carick muttered.  He tried again and got the same results.  He thought for a moment before realizing it was his whisper. A person's whisper sounds different than normal speech.  He tapped for a retry. "Cadet Captain Carick," he spoke in a hushed but normal voice. A moment passed before the ship's alarms sounded. “Intruder Alert, Intruder Alert,” the computer's voice echoed up and down the empty turbolift shaft and hallways of the ship.  Carick didn’t know how an 'Intruder Alert' would affect the ship's systems, but thought it best to start moving again if he wanted to avoid capture.

He continued his descent down the shaft and closer to Main Engineering.  The turbolifts had stopped running. The alert must have taken them off Automatic. Anyone wanted to use a lift would be required to manually enter their security code and fingerprint. That alone was guaranteed to buy him time.

Carick froze when he heard the swoosh of a deck access door open right below his feet. Adrenaline surged through his body. That's when he realized the aliens would be forced to use the same access shaft he was occupying to move through the ship. Carick was about to have company. Strategically, Carick was in a better position than whoever was about to enter the shaft below him. He had the high ground. Anyone entering the shaft would likely first look down, not up, when stepping in. He pushed his body up against the ladder hoping to make the smallest possible profile.  Carick watched closely, wondering how the intruders would look.  First he saw a hand then arm reach in to find the ladder.  It looked human.  The rest of the alien's body followed.  It was a human male just about Carick's age with bronze skin and dark hair.  He wore some kind of blue, form fitting nylon clothing with padding over his chest, abdomen and back. He had a weapon slung over his shoulder. He looked down, then reached for the ladder. He swung one foot in, found a rung and pulled his whole body out of the entryway and into the shaft. The door swooshed closed behind him. He began climbing down.

Carick thought for a moment before moving. He remembered watching a training video as a first year cadet which covered the do’s and don’ts of living on a Starbase. One of the ‘don’ts‘ was sliding down a ladder with both hands and feet on the side bars. It was a fast way to descend, but you could easily lose control of the situation. Carick thought his current predicament called for the discouraged ladder slide. He braced himself for the maneuver, counted to three,  then loosened his grip. The distance between himself and the alien closed rapidly. He had to slow down. Using his hands and feet, he tightened his grip on the ladder.  The sound of his boots against the metal ladder drew the aliens started attention. The alien looked up, saw the Carick bearing down over him, and fumbled to reach for his weapon. Carick landed on top of him and began kicking his head trying to take him off balance. The young alien lost his hold and fell as Carick’s boot connected with his face. He shouted something as he fell, trying his best to reestablish a hand hold. Several decks down he succeeded. He lost his weapon but stopped his fall. Carick continued his downward slide. The alien’s face bled red from Carick’s kicks to the head. He was having a hard time focusing because of blood in his eyes. He seemed to be calling for help. Carick had to shut up him before his back up arrived.  Carick landed on him a second time, kicking with all his strength. The alien teen struggled to ward off the blows. He caught hold of Carick’s left leg and pulled straight down. Carick lost his hold and fell. His fall was broken by clinging to the alien’s body. He swung his arm around the young man’s neck and pulled him tight to cut off his air. The alien struggled to breath. With one arm he held the ladder and with the other he pulled on Carick’s restricting arm. Ten seconds later he stopped struggling. He tried to speak. Carick pulled his neck into his chest as hard as he could to cut off his air supply.

The young man was able to say a few words as he struggled to breath. Carick couldn't understand the language and squeezed tighter. The young humanoid whispered something that stopped Carick from tightening his strangle hold.  Carick eased up slightly so the alien could say it again. The alien formed the words and whispered them. Carick understood him that time.

"Perikoi......Perikoi," The young man struggled to say.