Omniscient: John The Genius Part 4: Deadlines

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS DECEMBER 4th, 1988, about 4am. I loudly screamed my frustration and kicked the stainless steel container. I was alone, working. I hadn't slept for days. The project was behind, and I was working flat out. I screamed and kicked it again.

"You need sleep. Anything more you do will only cause further delays. Go and sleep, John," said the voices.

"I know this one won't work either. But I've got to waste time building it so the crew can get the next one right. But there's a deadline," I responded to the voices only I could hear.

My heart lurched at the word 'deadline.'

"Sleep, John. You will be on time. We know it's painful. We've felt this pain before, but you're experiencing it and for the first time it's not just a memory," they consoled.

I went to the RV parked just outside the lab and slept.

When I woke, it was mid-afternoon. I took my time, made breakfast—just cereal with milk and a sliced banana. Then I took a hot shower and dressed for the day.

I stepped into the December sunshine. The world seemed bright and cheerful. It felt wrong. I should explain why.

My name is John W. Cook, PhD. My oldest friend in the world is in the hospital. She has leukemia. She's had a bone marrow transplant but it's not enough. Her donor was a younger cousin, and there is a small sample remaining but she can't donate more and more is needed.

That's why I'm working. I'm building a bio-reactor. It will stimulate that small sample and help it grow. It'll feed the sample, take away its waste, and generate enough new tissue so Amber can receive an additional transplant. The transplant is working, but it just isn't growing fast enough to take over. She desperately needs more, and soon.

Emotionally, I'm on the edge. I know that I can be successful. I know that I will be but I've never had this sort of thing happen in my life before. Of course, I am only twelve.

I've done lots of things, been places and won awards. That just doesn't matter now, though. My knowledge and knowing I will succeed isn't just hope born of desperation. When I say I know, I really mean it. I'm omniscient.

Since three months before my eighth birthday, I've been able to remember the future. Not just the future, but all the futures I might possibly experience. I can remember failing at this task, attending her funeral, speaking and weeping on stage. I can remember her getting better, then relapsing. I can remember where I stepped in a year ago and helped her stop the cancer early. But none of those solutions were the right solution.

The right solution really doesn't need Amber to survive. The right solution finds a treatment that helps everybody after her. But having her survive without the right solution would be a cruel fate for the world. I need her to survive. I need a friend who will always remember me as that seven year old high school student. This isn't for the world, it's for me. It's for Amber too.

My memories of the future include an infinite number of lifetimes, spent doing an infinite number of things. They have experienced grief, loss and life. To me, it's been the distance of a memory until now. Now it has actually happened. My personal life experiences are finite and small against that infinite foreknowledge.

I step into the building I've purchased in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma where I'm building my bio-reactor. Today I smile and put on a happy face as I greet my work crews. A few engineers, a few medical doctors and a couple of biochemists. They know why they are here. I called them, offered them money, and brought them to work here in a crash engineering program.

My fame got their attention. My money got their time. The audacity of my plan got their devotion. I ran into a few serious faces. I waved them into a conference room.

"Tell me what you know," I request.

"The waste extraction chamber is buckled. There's no way to fix it. I'm sorry, John, we will have to start over from scratch."

"Do we know why?"

"Unexpected thermal expansion while running. We have modified the design. It actually is better this way as each stage connects easier."

"On to attempt four. Don't waste time dismantling number three, just push it to the side."

"It's a nine-day build schedule."

"I'm authorizing overtime, but I don't want anybody getting sleepy and hurting themselves, or damaging the project, so limit it to ten hour days."

"That's still nine days."

"Thank you gentlemen. I know you'll do your best."

I went to my office—just a small room with a desk, a chair and a phone. I dialed the number. "Hey, it's me ... I'm fine, I want to go to the hospital ... Okay, see you in ten minutes."

Ten minutes later a black limousine pulled up to the guard gate. I stepped past the gate and got in. A worried Matt was waiting for me in the back seat.

"Hi boss. You look like you've slept and showered. How are you?" he asked.

"I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The project will work, and in time."

Matt blew out a breath of relief to hear me sound positive. He's my second oldest friend. He started out as a driver, bodyguard and general caretaker. Now he's my personal assistant, and basically runs the organization that is me.

He knows about some of my abilities. We've worked together for four years now. He's become a trusted friend, and adopted older brother. Even if he's six foot eight and built like a locomotive. I've given him my oath of protection, he's given me the oath of his life.

We arrive at the hospital, and Matt opens the door then signals for my exit. He follows along behind me like a big black shark chasing a little white fish. The hospital staff waves in greeting, but no one tries to stop me as I head for the patient areas. They don't even question Matt to find out if he's carrying a gun. My ten million dollar donation bought both Amber and me miles of leeway.

I get to the room, and nod at her brother, Clark. "Is she awake?" I ask softly.

"I'm awake, John!" she says smiling. "Did you bring me a present?"

"Not this time. Maybe next time. What do you want? A pony? Not really enough room in here for a horse but a pony might just fit," I told her.

Her face was tired, but her eyes were alight with joy and giggles. She had lost so much weight. She had ended her first year at the Oklahoma State University nursing program about fifteen pounds heavier than she had ever been. That was gone now, along with a lot more. Much of her former vitality as head cheerleader, gossip monger and blond bombshell was gone, but it still lurked in her eyes.

I sat in the chair next to her bed and she reached out to take my hand. With her other hand she picked up my first gift to her. Shaped like a hand mirror, except it was completely clear. I hadn't told her it was made of diamond. She thought it was glass. She held it up between us, and like I had taught her, as my present was a 'magic mirror,' said "Mirror mirror in the hand, show me who cares about me."

I gave her a beaming smile back through the clear center of the fake mirror, looking into those tired blue eyes. "Just had to check, since you didn't bring me a present," she said, giggling.

After she carefully put it away again, we softly talked for an hour before she became sleepy. Just as she was drifting off, she said, "Wear my shirt next time, John."

I said goodbye to Clark, and headed back to the limousine with Matt. He escorted me to his office, where we reviewed what was going on across my economic empire. Axis Productions, my first foray into mergers and acquisitions, had a purchase offer. The stakeholders wanted to sell. It was a half-billion-dollar windfall for me.

I made a note authorizing my lawyer, Jennifer Parz, to vote to approve the sale. Best to make it unanimous. Oprah had invited me on her show. I made a note that I'd be available in April. There were a few other details to take care of.

Eventually, I made it back to the bio-reactor to check on progress. Matt went and got us dinner and brought it back to the RV. After eating together at the small table, he left for the night to his own hotel room. Our Oklahoma City operation wasn't very big, as it was meant to be temporary. My normal work office was at General Atomics in San Diego, California and my corporate office was at my ocean front home in a San Diego suburb called La Jolla.

This new project was the first of what I was calling 'Dream Teams.' Gather a group of people together to solve a single problem, pay them well and support the research and development. Slipping them some advanced technology from the future while I was at it then let them discover it and figure it out on their own.

I had to leave the bio-reactor group the next day and fly to Washington State, with a stop off in San Diego. First I made a quick visit to Amber to let her know I would be out of town. She saw me as I came through the door into her hospital room and burst into laughter, "You wore my shirt!"

I looked down at it. It said 'I'm John Cook and I belong here.' I shrugged and tried to pull it down. "Between the dryer and the years that have gone by, it's shrunk, I guess."

"You grew up!" she laughed. "I can't believe you still have it, how long ago was that?"

"Three years, seven months and two days."

"Don't be a show off, John the Genius," she mocked.

She followed tradition and lifted the 'magic mirror.' "Mirror, mirror in my hand, who loves me most in the world?"

I just smiled back at her through the clear mirror, as she sighed, and put it carefully away again. I looked past her and most of the breakfast still sitting in front of her. Her Mom had a chair in the corner and was watching us with a wry smile. "Hi Mrs Petworth. How are you today?"

"John, I told you to call me Janet."

"Is our favorite patient behaving herself today?" I asked.

"She's been in a mood. Just wants to watch TV," Janet said.

"The new show you told me about is premiering today, Iron Chef. I'm really excited to watch it."

"Is it? I haven't been really paying attention. Tell me if you don't like it. I'll fire somebody for you."

She laughed, "I love your new TV station. It helps me be hungry when it's time to eat."

"You'll like Iron Chef. I got Mr Miyagi to host it."

"The guy from Karate Kid? I love that movie."

"I know," I told her. "I'm telling you now so you don't get too excited later."

She pished, and leaned back further into her pillows. "I'm not going to get excited just because Food TV has an actor from my favorite movie. Ralph Macchio is the sexy one in it anyway."

"Well you're going to like Graham Kerr. He's the chef to beat in the first episode."

"Is he cuter than Ralph?"

I made a face, "I'm not really equipped to answer that question," I said to get a laugh from her and her Mom.

"I've heard of him," Janet said. "Isn't he Canadian?"

"Yeah, imagine James Bond as a celebrity chef."

"Oh, I think I'll like that," Amber said, and I noticed her Mom nodding too.

I smiled, "I can't stay, I've got to take off for a few days. But I'll be back soon. I just wanted to check on you, before I went."

"I'll be here when you get back John," she promised.

I waved bye and headed back to the waiting limo. Matt handed me a shirt so I pulled off the entirely too tight and short t-shirt and put on the dark blue three-button polo.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Okay. She thought the shirt was hilarious."

"I'll make sure it gets put safely back into your luggage."

"Thanks. Is everything ready at the plane?"

"All set. Me, you, three pilots, four stewardesses, one chef and five security guards. Not a lot of people for a plane that can seat sixty."

"I think they are called flight attendants now."

"Who?"

"The stewardesses. Wasn't one of them supposed to be a guy?"

"His Mom got sick so the service sent a replacement."

"Great. I'm looking forward to being able to travel farther faster."

"I'm looking forward to showering in the plane. Remember how bad we smelled when we took that flight to Kiev?" Matt said, wrinkling his nose.

"It's got my water filters installed so nearly unlimited water for the showers."

"I got the tour yesterday. I'm liking the increased size as well. I could barely fit in your Grandpa's Gulfstream."

"I don't think the Gulfstream was made for people who are six foot eight," I said chuckling.

The limo pulled up to the plane and I got out, leaving the luggage to Matt. I looked up at the large twin engine plane. The 767-300ER had been under renovation for much of 1988. The ER stands for extended range and it was originally supposed to be ready in time to take my family on a non-stop flight to the Olympics in Seoul this last September. It had just finally finished renovations and flight worthiness certification and I eagerly climbed up the stairs to the open rear hatch.

"Welcome aboard, sir."

"Thank you. Where should I go?"

"I'd recommend the seating area, mid-plane."

"Okay, I want to take off as soon as we can." I thumbed back down the stairs, "We'll need him too," I said pointing as Matt and the limo driver struggled with the luggage.

She smiled, "Yes sir."

I went forward from the rear seating area and rear bathroom, past the two bedrooms with full baths and the mobile office. In the center of the plane was a seating area offering twenty better than first class seats, as well as a lounge area with couches.

Another flight attendant was there to get me buckled in and I asked her, "Where are the security guys?"

"Three are up in the front seating area. The other two will board just before take off. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'm trying to cut back on Dr Pepper so I'll have orange juice with breakfast," I joked.

She nodded and headed forward. I knew up front there was another twenty similar seats, a match to the twenty at the back. There was also a kitchen and a dining room that could double as a meeting space, a fight crew bunk room and more bathrooms. Every bathroom was equipped with a shower.

Matt sat down next to me. "It's huge!" he said with a grin.

"It is. Now next stop on our way to Olympia, Washington is San Diego, California."

"Wow, that's a terrible flight route and layover stop," he teased.

I laughed, "It's our hub, have to go there first."

He chuckled as the pilot confirmed the rear cabin doors were shut and I heard the engines spool up. Once we were up, the pilot came over the intercom, "Welcome aboard. It will be about three hours to our first destination, San Diego. Weather looks good, and I'm expecting a smooth flight. You are now free to move about the cabin, but if possible please be seated. If you are seated, it is recommended that you keep your seatbelt on."

Angella Limeria walked into the seating area. "Good morning John."

"Good morning Angella."

She smiled. "Would you like the orange juice here or in the dining room?"

"I'll come up, I want to see more of the plane and I haven't had breakfast."

"Chef Peter will have it ready in a few minutes. He's very excited. He's never had such a good kitchen on an aircraft before."

"Did you tell him that you helped design it?"

"That didn't seem to come up," she said grinning.

Chef fixed us breakfast and then I explored the plane, meeting the crew and security. In San Diego we picked up twenty-five executives and engineers from General Atomics. We didn't need to refuel, so we loaded them on, stowed their luggage and after a flight briefing, took off for Olympia, Washington.

The chef served lunch, and I ate with a couple of the executives in the dining room who had worked on our ISPB reactor. After lunch, I showered and changed clothes as we prepared for landing. On arrival several sprinter vans were there to take the General Atomics staff, but I had a custom matte black carbon felt armored Humvee to take me, two security, and Matt to the site. Other local security followed. It was a forty-five-minute drive. We arrived, toured the facility, then went to the ceremonial startup for the cameras and news people.

I gave a short speech, "I'm very happy to be here today. After personally witnessing the fear and uncertainty of the people of Kiev who lived just sixty-five miles from the Chernobyl meltdown, I was determined that nuclear power had to be safer and cheaper.

"General Atomics has pioneered a new standard in reliable, safe, clean and best of all cheap power. Will the engineers responsible please start us up!"

The plant had been running for days, a carefully engineered addition to the local grid. The button simply lit up a board showing current production amounts, and activated spinning lights when the giant start button was pressed down by a group of madly grinning engineers.

Everyone applauded the event, then I did interviews and took questions where I just basically repeated myself all day to the same questions:

"It's incredibly safe. It uses a mix of fuels, uranium and thorium, all sealed in secure containers made of diamond."

"Yes, it's manufactured diamond. We made it in the lab at General Atomics."

"This is an empty containment ball. As you can see, it's about the size of a tennis ball."

"There are two hundred thousand of them in the reactor."

"Diamond is the hardest natural material known to man, and an excellent conductor of heat. The heat generated by the nuclear reaction inside the diamond pebble is transferred to inert carbon dioxide. That heat then goes to the heat exchanger where the water is boiled to drive the generator."

When the day got late, the people who had traveled with me were shuttled to a local hotel, while I was driven back to the plane where Chef Peter had dinner waiting. Parked in a rented hangar and connected to power, the plane served as my mobile hotel room.

My bedroom had a nice big bed to myself. Matt had the other bedroom which had six bunk beds installed. He shared it with the security staff who were staying on the plane. The flight crew had their own bunks, but had opted for a hotel. After seeing the security crew and the bunks I thought I probably should have opted for the hotel too.

The next day two GA executives came to meet me at the airplane. They were very upset. "WPPPS has informed us that per our contract in purchasing the Satsop site we are required to sell our electricity to them but that the contract doesn't specify the amount. They've decided that since we paid so little for something they claim to have spent a billion dollars on, that it's only fair they pay us two cents a kilowatt hour!" I was informed by the outraged man.

"That's still a profit," I told him.

"They are reselling the power at seven cents per kilowatt hour!" said the other in similar outrage."

"Listen, first of all thank you for your concern. Remember, our plant is a demonstration plant. When word gets around that we are selling electricity at two cents and making a profit this system will be popping up everywhere.

I need you to go make a fuss in the press, tell everyone who will listen. Every time you complain about how unfair it is, be sure to mention that we are profitable at two cents per kilowatt hour and that WPPPS really shouldn't be charging so much if they are only paying us two cents.

"There will be no legal action, understood? If we fight, we look greedy. WPPPS is nearly bankrupt as it is."

"We understand," they told me.

"Now, this is important. There are other things our demonstration plant can produce other than electricity. Under no circumstances are you to mention that. You are still bound by your non-disclosure agreements."

I gave them my hardest stare, "Do you understand? Complain and complain, but constantly mention the price we are producing at. Do not mention the other thing we are making with the plant."

"Yes, Sir!" they responded.

"Good, now go make some noise. I have to get back to Oklahoma City."

They smiled for the first time, shook my hand, and apologized for interfering with breakfast. Matt looked at me smiling as they walked off.

"What are you planning?" he asked.

"You'll see," I told him still smiling.

That afternoon we were back at San Diego, then that evening I was back at Oklahoma City. I decided to spend the night on the plane, as it was more comfortable than my RV at the Bio lab.

Construction of the bio-reactor had gone well when I checked it the next morning. That taken care of, I visited Amber again.

"Hi Amber, I brought you a pony!" I said, handing her the stuffed animal.

"Hi Mr and Mrs Petworth."

"Don't bother Harry, he just won't call you by your first name," Janet told her husband. They both offered greetings and I returned them. It was late morning and I looked around to see if anything was new, then pulled up a chair next to a smiling Amber, petting her new pony.

"You were right," she told me.

"Of course!" I boldly declared. "About what?" I asked, softly.

She giggled. "Several things. Iron Chef was great, that Kerr guy was cute, and a pony really will fit in here."

"I'm glad you liked it. Did you see me on TV?"

"Yes, but the construction hat didn't really fit the suit you were wearing."

"Come on Amber, guys in hard hats are naturally handsome."

She made a fake gagging face. "Ugh, not cute."

"Okay, next time I'll wear a cute hat. Maybe something pink."

She laughed, then winced and lay back against the pillows in the hospital bed. I decided to change the subject, "So are you looking forward to getting back to school when this is over?"

"I guess," she said noncommittally.

"Well you're going to look great, let's face it those Freshman Fifteen you put on weren't great."

"Just stop! That's so mean!"

I laughed. "Seriously though, are you still planning on a medical career?"

"I've always wanted to be a nurse."

"Well you have very valuable experience now. You know what it's like from both sides of the needle. I know that there are some kids on this floor too. Consider the comfort you can give to your future patients to let them know you've been through this and came out stronger on the other side."

She squeezed my hand, tears coming to her eyes, "I never thought about being a nurse in a hospital, it was always in a doctor's office in my imagination."

"You've seen what the nurses here do, and how important they are to the patients. Maybe you can specialize in Oncology. Maybe even pediatric oncology. You're great with kids."

"What makes you think I'm great with kids?"

"I'm twelve, you're great with kids," I said as seriously as I could.

She laughed lightly, "Yeah. I'm great with kids."

She was getting tired, so she let me go. Matt was waiting downstairs in the limo.

"You can come up too, you know," I told him.

"I hate hospitals. Can't stand them. I'll wait in the limo. I'm fine out here, it's got a TV and your wireless cable box."

"Fine, let's go get barbecue."

"Oh good. Oklahoma barbecue is the best," he said, and lowered the divider to tell the driver where we were going.

Matt was sure he was right. He continued to explain as we drove to the barbecue place. "Oklahoma City barbecue is special. It sits at the overlap of Memphis, Texas, Kansas City and Tennessee barbecue styles. It's not so much what it is, as what it's not. It's not any of the others. It's not afraid to do pork or beef or occasionally other critters. It's what happens when you mix the best of all the other styles and it's good."

Regardless of his opinions it was good. We both stuffed ourselves full.

The following few days I assisted in the fabrication of the bio-reactor. Eventually, it was complete. It wasn't huge, but it was going to take a small half-ounce sample and turn it into gallons of bone marrow ready for transplant. With it finally working, I headed to the hospital to talk to Amber's doctors.

"Dr Cook, thank you for the update. We are relieved that you found a way to increase the bone marrow that Amber needs."

"I'm happy to do so. I'm hoping that our facility will continue to work with the hospital here. Once we have more machines set up, we'll be able to replicate any marrow sample. It'll mean just a tiny amount removed and an unlimited amount donated."

"We will be able to notify the hospitals across the country to match it, so potentially hundreds or even thousands can have the marrow they need for transplants."

"I suggest you contact the hospitals and look for particularly rare donors. Especially if they have small samples still in their freezers."

"Excellent suggestion. Bone marrow can stay viable at cryogenic temperatures for years."

"Thank you doctors. I'm going to go let the family know."

"Thank you Dr Cook. It's been a privilege to work with you."

I knocked on the door and Amber quickly held up her 'magic mirror.' "Mirror mirror in my hand, who has missed me most of all?"

I grinned at her, looking again into her blue eyes. Trying to see how tired she might be.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you coming in, or just ogling the ladies in the newest hospital gowns."

"Oh! Is this the new 1989 collection?" I asked playing along. "It's so practical, it might be a Donna Karan but it looks so modern it simply must be Versace."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "How do you know those?"

"I spent almost six months in Paris and Europe. I wasn't just working the whole time."

"Paris! I've always wanted to go to Paris. I took French with Ms Peters too, you know."

"Bah, you'd be disappointed with Paris. You'd get there and discover speaking French was hardly romantic. Why in Paris, even the garbage man speaks French!"

The burst of laughter behind me made me turn around, "Hi Mr and Mrs Petworth."

"Hello John."

I started to shake their hands, but Janet grabbed me in a head burying hug. "Did he tell you the news, Amber?"

"What news?"

"He got the machine to work! There will be enough bone marrow for another transplant in just a couple days!" she said as tears started to fall.

"I guess they ruined my surprise," I mumbled while still held tightly.

Janet let me go, her face beaming despite the tears. "What did you say, John?"

"I said they ruined my surprise!"

"Come here, let me hug you," Amber insisted.

I carefully maneuvered so she could give me a weak hug. It hurt so much knowing that was as strong as she could manage.

"So since that surprise is ruined, how about this? Once you are all better, I'm sending you and your whole family to Hawaii."

"What? No, John you've done so much already," Harry disagreed.

"It's fine and it'll be good for Amber. She's gotten all pasty and pale. She needs some sun."

"What!" Amber screeched.

"You'll come back tan and relaxed. Ready to get back to school."

"Sun and sand sounds nice," Janet said.

"You'd get along with my little sister," I told her but didn't explain when I saw her puzzled look. "I've got some back copies of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. I can drop them by for you to help pick out what you want to wear on the beach. You can't have my 1988 issue, though."

"Why not?"

"I'm still hoping to get Elle Macpherson to sign it!"

She laughed, and swatted at me, which I easily dodged.

A few days later I had my final meeting with the bio-reactor startup team. "Congratulations on performing a medical miracle that will save thousands of lives, here and around the world," I told them, then led the applause.

"The next step is to continue to build bio-reactors and expand the available marrow we can produce. While doing that, Dr Marks will be researching the possibility of a universal donor. If he can achieve that, then every state will need at least one machine to provide a constant source of transplantable marrow."

"It may take us years, but I'm happy to continue to do the research," Dr Marks replied.

I just nodded, knowing he was going to find a wonderful surprise hidden in the formula I had developed to act as a feedstock for the marrow in the bio-reactor. They would discover its amazing potential.

I tossed Dr Marks a set of keys to the office building next door. "Congratulations President Marks," I said.

He looked confused, "You bought me a car?"

I laughed, "Those are the keys to your new offices next door. The sign for OKBio will get installed later this week. It's fully furnished, and ready to go."

"This is incredible."

I turned and looked at everyone there, "You're all invited to join the new company. I ask that you please do so, because this discovery needs your continued hard work to save lives. Regardless, expect a big bonus from me for the successful conclusion of this startup project."

There were cheers and whistles as I motioned Dr Marks to the small office to the side of the room.

I handed him a business card. "You've talked to her before, but this is for Jennifer Parz. She has your employee contract, and her team will set up everyone else. She'll have staff she can give you as well to fill in the non-technical positions."

"Thank you, John. This has been an incredible project. I've been amazed at the speed you work."

"First order of business is to check with Jennifer on the status of the patent on my growth medium. Second order is to get up and running. While you're doing that, keep building bio-reactors and working to improve the design. Third order of business is to get some papers written and submitted. I've always been partial to Science but you'll probably have better luck with The New England Journal of Medicine."

He gave me a big handshake and we went back to the small but loud crowd of workers.

"Quiet down a moment, please," I said.

Dr Marks gave a piercing whistle. "Thank you Dr Marks. One last announcement: everyone who joins the new company will be getting stock options!"

The cheering returned, and after what seemed like too many handshakes, I escaped outside to the RV.

I spent one last night in the RV, but headed to the airport the next morning. A short hop in my new plane to Tulsa to be with my family.

"Chef Peter, the vegetables you wanted will arrive this afternoon. Do you mind staying on board to get them put away?" I asked him as we landed in Tulsa.

"Where are they coming from?"

"My Mom's farm."

"I thought your Mom was a musician?"

"The chef at The Mayo was unsatisfied with his local options, so he convinced my Mom to turn the family homestead into a farm for fresh produce for the hotel."

"But it's winter?"

"There are extensive greenhouses."

"Excellent. I'll be ready to bring them aboard."

"Thank you."

Security picked me up in the matte black armored Humvee that was kept for me here in Tulsa. They loved the vehicle. I left Matt behind to organize the delivery of several rolls of graphene felt filters for our next trip.

"I saw you on TV!" Mattie said as I gave her a big hug.

"Was I handsome?" I asked.

Her response was just giggles as I got hugs from everybody. It was an unfortunately short visit, because I had an appointment.

Just before leaving I had ten people join me on my plane: Four environmental scientists, the Fijian Ambassador who I was giving a ride home, along with his wife and two pairs of photographers to document the trip.

In total, including flight crew, staff and security there were twenty-nine others. At the last moment a car came rushing up to the plane, and the final component, a water systems engineer, joined us. He was trying to apologize, but I just pointed him up the stairs. "Don't waste time apologizing, just get in and find a seat."

We finished checks, flight instruction and everyone belted up. The aircraft fully fueled began its one-stop flight for Fiji. The one stop was Hawaii.

"Too bad we can't stay here a while," Matt said as the plane was being refueled.

"If we refuel here it's cheaper than in Fiji where we would be filling empty tanks."

"Any chance to relax some on this trip?" he asked.

"I promise you days of fishing."

"Nice, boss. Thanks."

We had dinner in the air with the ambassador and his wife. I had offered the ride to start building good will with members of the Fiji government. I got to practice my Fijian with them. "You are improving so quickly!" the wife exclaimed. "By the time we get there you will sound like a native."

I thanked her, then her husband asked, "Where are you sleeping tonight?"

"I have a pull-out bunk in my office."

"Thank you," his wife said. "The chairs I imagine would have been more comfortable than any other flight I've taken, but to give us your own bedroom, that is truly a wonderful gift. I've never had a better trip to or from my home."

When we landed I was standing by the door. Matt asked, "Why haven't you gone down yet?"

"I'm waiting for the photographers to get set up, so they can take pictures of our arrival."

He laughed. "I don't know why you need four of them."

"They told me they were cheaper as a set. I think it's a secret honeymoon."

We disembarked at the Matei airport. Matt and I, plus the four photographers and four security. We watched the plane take off as Matei had nothing but a runway.

"Where are they going?" one of the photographers asked.

"There are no services here—just a landing strip. They have to fly on to Fiji to park the plane."

"Where do we go next?" he asked.

"The Rabi council is sending a couple of jeeps to take us to the boat."

We loaded ourselves and several days worth of luggage onto all the Jeeps that arrived. It might have been every Jeep on the island. They drove the short distance to the dock, where we unloaded onto the boat waiting for us.

"At least it's not called the S.S. Minnow," Matt joked.

"Did you know that the fans of SyFy are still arguing about whether Gilligan's Island is science fiction or fantasy? It plays as one of the shows on classic Thursdays."

He considered as the boat motored away from the shore. "The Professor was always building stuff, like a TV with coconuts. But Mary Ann and Ginger, I think it's fantasy."

The boat took about forty-five minutes to reach Tabwewa Village, the administrative center and location of the Rabi Council. We arrived and were greeted. Then we were given rooms to rest up in from our trip.

After changing into cooler clothes, I got to meet with James, the half-Fijian Olympic sailor I had met in Seoul.

"Deadshot John, it is good to see you again!"

"James, good to see you as well! How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm glad you came."

"I'm very happy to be here. This is my assistant and good friend, Matt," I told him.

The two big men shook hands and gave each other a good look. They must have liked what they saw because they broke out into big smiles simultaneously.

"Listen, the Rabi Council. They are very greedy. The British recently awarded us money for the destruction of our old home and they can't wait to spend it. Be careful that they don't convince you to give them money."

"Thank you for the warning," I told him sincerely.

The next morning the council greeted me. Some spoke English and that's what they greeted me in. I replied in Kiribati. "Thank you for inviting me to this home of the Banaba. I've come to talk to you about restoring your home island to life. I've brought tools to begin, and scientists who specialize in understanding the Earth and the plants and animals that nourish it."

They agreed to discuss it. So the meeting soon ended. I headed back to the lodgings they had provided.

"That was short."

"They take time to decide anything. The problem is conflicting desires."

"What do you mean?"

I saw James walk up and waved him over to sit in the shade with us as we enjoyed a cold drink in the hot humid air.

"I was just telling Matt about the conflicting desires of the Rabi council."

"There are many. Which ones concern you?" James asked.

"They want an island that is basically unlivable. It's too small for the current population. They want the wealth of the remaining phosphate mine but they don't want any more phosphate mining on the island."

"That's a good list. You should remember that only a few of the Council ever lived there and then it was as children. It is also really far from here! For most people it's something they've always heard complained about but they have never seen it with their own eyes," James said passionately.

"Have you seen it?" I asked him.

"Yes, I and a few others sailed there a few years ago. There is nothing there worth having."

"How far away is it?" Matt asked.

"Thirteen hundred miles," I told him.

Politically it was an even more difficult situation. Banaba, their ancestral homeland, was part of the Republic of Kiribati, a sovereign state in Micronesia, which straddles the equator. Most Banabans lived on Rabi Island, which was part of the country of Fiji, where they had been forcibly relocated, later purchasing Rabi from the locals for their exclusive use.

The Banabans had members representing them in the governments of both countries, but no political power in either, due to their population being only about five thousand. Eventually we came back to meet again with the Council. It came to the point in the discussion I was dreading.

"Could you please explain to me why you even want the island?" I asked. "There's no water source, it's mostly uninhabitable, it has regularly killed thousands of your people during droughts and it's one-tenth the size of the island you have now. Only a few people live there and they don't live well. Please, explain to me the point of it!"

"It's ours. By right of our ancestors' blood, it's our homeland!" the council asserted.

"Really? And what if instead of helping you bring water to the island and try to do something with the great big hole in the middle of it, I offered you fifty million dollars for it, what would you do then? You've lived here long enough for your blood to be part of this island," I challenged.

The people agreed with my statement. I could also see the avarice in the eyes of the Council at the offer.

"We will need to talk about this," they told me and ended the Council.

I went back to our hut, then purchased a fishing pole. Matt and I went to the beach to fish in the surf. The Council didn't get back to us until the next day.

They countered my offer, seventy-five million dollars. I countered theirs, "Sixty million, ten million for each square kilometer of island. You can divide it up among those with ownership records based on square meters owned. Divide the rest up as you see fit."

The larger families who had owned larger pieces of land, and kept meticulous records cheered the offer. The Council moved together to discuss it. Finally they said they would talk about it and answer me the following day.

Only one thing to do: go fishing again. James joined me. I handed him a small piece of paper. "James, can you find these people and have them meet me at our lodging tonight?"

He looked at the list, then at me, "Sure. Now how about I show you the right way to cast when surf fishing."

That night a few people showed up for a secret meeting with me. "Gentlemen, I'm speaking to you because I've learned that the Council has been eyeing the funds awarded by the British government over the phosphate mining operation. Without proper controls, the Council will soon be dipping into these funds for investments in your people's future. They will do so with no discussion, no record, and much of the investments disappearing into pockets. The pockets of people offering great investment opportunities far from here. People who are not Banabans.

"Should they accept my offer, it will only be longer before they run through all the money and only then would their thefts be discovered. The result would be a people with nothing but debts."

This worried the men I spoke to. They were the college educated children who had grown up here but had gotten scholarships to go to universities in Hawaii, Australia and other places.

"Thank you for the information, Dr Cook."

"You're welcome. You've got a great home here. I hope it stays that way."

The Council accepted my offer the next day. I used one of the island's two phones to call the government in Fiji to inform them of the agreement. They had to send out a representative to verify it.

I took the opportunity to talk to the government official, "How hard would it be to grant official citizenship to the people on Rabi Island?"

"That is a difficult question," was his answer.

"With their home island no longer an option, they are going to be staying here permanently."

"Technically they are all illegal immigrants."

"Even though they bought the island they live on?"

"Even so," he responded.

"Think about what my water filtration system could do for Fiji," I told him, handing him an information packet on graphene water filtration felt. "I'd be happy to assist the government of Fiji to acquire and install the equipment if the citizenship issue got resolved."

"Thank you, I will communicate your offer, Dr Cook."

Because the formal signing was put off for a week, I took the boat back to the Matei airstrip. I was happy to see the plane again as it had climate control.

"Are the tanks topped off?" I asked the pilot.

"Yes, boss. And Chef Peter filled up his larder."

"Was your vacation at the resort good?"

"Fantastic, boss."

"Great, if everything is ready, let's head to Tarawa."

"One Kiribati Republic Capital, coming up," he said with a laugh.

Back in my office aboard the plane I asked Matt, "Why is everybody calling me boss now?"

"Cause you're the little boss, why do you think?"

I just shook my head and settled in for the three-and-a-half-hour flight.

They were supposed to know I was arriving but the control tower was confused. When I finally landed I hired a cab to take me to the government offices.

The man working at a table in a room down a hallway frowned at me as I walked up to him. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Hi, I'm here to inform you that I am purchasing the island of Banaba from the Banaba people and the Council of Rabi."

"I hope you didn't pay much, the place is worthless."

"I thought it was a fair price."

"What do you want it for?"

"I plan to reopen the phosphate mine and ship in good soil in exchange."

"That's great. We need more industry. The taxes will help too!"

"Don't get too excited. This is just a little project for me. My personal yearly income is higher than the entire GNP of Kiribati."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well come in and sit down. Who did you say you were again?"

The more they learned the more excited they got. They were especially pleased when I mentioned that I had encouraged Fiji to make the Banaba refugees citizens.

After they were done offering their support and help, I bought tickets for Matt and I, the scientists and the engineer that had also enjoyed the resort, as well as the photographers and security to fly on the local 737 to Nauru International Airport.

"Why didn't we take your plane? It's much nicer?" one of the photographers asked.

"The runway isn't long enough. It could probably do it, but it would be tight."

"Is that where your new island is?"

"It's just closer. It's still another hour-and-a-half by seaplane after we arrive."

The people living on the island were very surprised to see a plane landing in the ocean. They were not happy to hear that the council had sold the island out from under them.

"You're welcome to stay. I'm planning on restarting the phosphate mine and will need workers. If you do leave, I'm willing to pay you whatever the Council offers you for your homes and land, so you'll get double what anybody else gets."

All but six decided to move to Rabi and left immediately on the seaplane.

"So the plane's gone," Matt said.

"It'll come back."

"Where are we sleeping?"

"I just bought those houses," I said pointing at the shacks. "Go find one for us, one for the scientist and one for the photographers."

"Okay boss. What about security?"

"Sure they can have a house too."

We gathered for a meeting around a campfire on the beach near sunset, "Okay, everybody. Grab food from the coolers for dinner and settle in. We have a few things to discuss," I told everyone.

Once we all had food, even if it was cold, we settled in. "First of all, the plane will be back. There's a HF radio here on the island, so don't think we are reenacting Gilligan's Island," I said to some laughter.

"I've arranged cargo deliveries for those staying on the island. Those will come by ship from Tarawa as it's much cheaper than by air. The houses you are in are now mine and so now yours to use. Please don't burn them down. If you can promise that, I'll make sure there's booze on the first boat with supplies."

They cheered that and I smiled, enjoying the environment. My eyes kept catching on memories of what would be here someday.

"Science team, I need a full island survey. Figure out where to mine phosphate, where to place the topsoil coming in and figure out where to build a small jetty for better boat access.

"Water engineer?" I asked.

"Here boss," he answered raising his hand from the other side of the small beach fire.

"We brought some of your equipment. Get the water going then figure out what it's like when it rains here. Where will we need to build drainage. Also get showers up and running right away. Don't try to put in water lines to the homes, we'll be building better structures soon enough."

"Photographers?"

"Here boss!" they cheered.

"Get lots of pictures, make me look heroic for the newspapers back home," I said which got lots of laughing and jeering.

"Security!"

"Here boss."

"Kill any mosquito you find and prepare to repel a land shark invasion. You only have to hold out until the seaplane arrives tomorrow."

I got another loud laugh and wondered if I had a future in stand-up comedy.

"Great, I'm headed to bed. The seaplane will be back in the morning with supplies to last until the boat arrives. Don't stay up too late, you will be needed to unload the cargo."

With paperwork in hand, the photographers, two security, Matt and I took the seaplane back to Nauru International Airport, where we had a hot breakfast then caught the 737 back to Tarawa. Everybody quickly cycled through the showers when we got to my waiting plane.

Representatives of the Kiribati government wanted to accompany me to verify the purchase.

"Sure, you guys can come. I won't be coming back this way, so you'll have to find your own way home from Fiji." That cut down the observers looking for a free trip from over twenty to just two.

We unloaded the remainder of the equipment, and arranged for it to be added to the cargo boat leaving for Banaba. Matt ensured the promised booze was on the boat. Chef Peter collected local ingredients and we ate well during the flight to Fiji. At the request of the Fiji government, we landed at Nadi International Airport, where a government boat was ready to transport us to the signing ceremony.

The ceremony went well. The photographers took pictures and were anxious to break the story. After a ceremonial signing and completing the fund transfer, we reboarded the government boat. I stayed at a local resort overnight, the same one the scientists and aircrew had enjoyed. The next day we flew back to Tarawa where I dropped the photographers and a couple thankful Kiribati government observers. The photographers boarded the cargo ship so they could go document the island.

"Good luck and congratulations on the wedding," I told them as we shook hands goodbye.

"Thanks boss. We could have never afforded a honeymoon like this, plus you're paying us!"

"I think you have some things for me to bring back to civilization?"

They handed over a packet of papers describing their adventure so far and over thirty rolls of film.

"I promise to mail these to your paper as soon as I get to civilization."

"Thanks boss, we promise: you look heroic in most of the pictures," they said with much mirth.

CHAPTER TWO

GETTING TO TOKYO from Tarawa wasn't easy. To handle the shorter runway we had landed almost empty. We filled up just enough to make it back to Nadi International Airport.

That was a three-hour detour, followed by two hours getting fuel. This first left I slept through. But when I woke we were still on the ground.

"Boss, the security guys and the captain have an idea," Matt said.

"Well let me get breakfast and you can tell me the idea. I'm guessing it's why we haven't left for Japan?"

"Right, I told them you would be up soon so I gave the okay on the delay."

Chef Peter had a hot breakfast for me, waffles and bacon. I also had him make me a mocha to help wake up. The travel and time changes had my brain a little frazzled.

"So, Boss," began my pilot. "Have you ever heard of the Golden Shellback?"

"No, what's that."

"It's crossing the international date line and the equator at the same time."

"You want to do that in the plane when we head for Japan?"

"Yeah! It's only about an hour detour out of the way."

The security chief spoke up. "Actually boss, we want to wait around for a bit so we hit it at midnight."

"Why midnight?"

"Today's December 31st."

I looked at Matt. "Is it really?"

"Yeah Boss."

"Wow, sorry guys. I haven't been paying attention to the date."

"No problem, boss," Matt said.

"What time do we have to leave to hit the Golden Shellback at midnight New Year's Day?"

"At about 930 tonight." the pilot answered.

I sighed, and looked around at the eager faces.

"If we left now, we'd still be able to do the Shellback, but what time would we arrive in Japan?" I asked.

"About 3pm, December 31st," answered the pilot.

"So we gain a day and would be in Japan for New Year's," Matt added.

"If we leave at around 930pm, when will we arrive in Tokyo?" I asked.

"Just before 5am local in Tokyo January 1st."

I looked around the room. "Okay, let's put it to a vote. We are going to do the Golden Shellback route no matter what. Do we do our New Year's party over the ocean, or in Japan?"

The vote wasn't even close, everyone wanted to do it at midnight.

"Well that's easy. Everybody go find something to do on the island. Be back here before 8pm. Make sure you shop for a party on the flight."

There were cheers and shouts of "Thanks Boss!" I just looked at it as early practice for my 1999 New Year's celebration.

Matt contacted a local tourist company. "I'm willing to spend whatever it takes. I want a fantastic whirlwind experience of Fiji. Just get me back to my plane at 8pm tonight," he explained on the phone.

I listened as he confirmed that there would be four of us, him and me, as well as two security. The third security had to stay on the plane, as we had left two behind on Banaba.

We were exhausted when we got back. I knew I'd need a nap to be ready for the New Year's party. I also needed a shower as I still felt the stickiness of the mud from the mud baths.

"Wow, I'm exhausted," Matt said.

"I am too. But that was fun."

He grinned widely, "That was fun. We should try to do stuff like this more often."

I handed off my bags of souvenirs and my camera to the waiting flight attendant. "Are we the first back?"

"No boss. Chef Peter got back an hour ago. He's making something special for New Year's."

"Wonderful. I'm going to shower and take a nap. Get this stuff stowed and hide the camera from Matt so he doesn't steal the photos I took of him."

"Hey, you said you didn't take a picture."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. You'll have to wait for your birthday to find out," I teased.

Matt gently woke me at 11pm. We were in the air. "Hey boss, party is starting if you want to join?"

"Okay, I'll be up in a bit. Thanks."

When I arrived at the front of the plane, the dining area walls had been opened up between the lounge area and the dining area. There were drinks set out and snacks on trays but since there were just a few of us, it was self-serve.

Everyone had champagne for a toast at midnight and the flight attendants all took a turn giving me an embarrassing New Year's kiss. Matt just laughed after he put them up to it.

The head of security gathered our attention by ringing a bell. "Normally the Golden Shellback includes a great many demeaning and disgusting traditions as the initiates are promoted from Polliwogs to Golden Shellbacks by King Neptune.

"As I'm the only previous Shellback on this flight and we are at 41,000 feet, we won't be doing those traditions. I didn't particularly care for my initiation and don't wish to put that on someone else. I am quite happy though to have added this particular item to my list of accomplishments and have prepared certificates for everyone aboard."

"Thank you, chief," I told him.

He nodded, then started handing out the ribbon-festooned certificate declaring that I was a Golden Shellback and certifying the time, date, and place of the crossing. It was witnessed with the signatures of our pilot and the chief of security.

The party continued for a while longer but after I finished my glass of champagne I was feeling sleepy, so I went back to bed.

When I awoke I was back on solid ground.

"Hey boss, you're up!" Matt said.

"Yeah, so where are we?"

"Yokota Air Base. We are about an hour by car from Tokyo."

"Okay, everybody good? Anybody hung over this morning?"

"Everybody's good, boss. Nobody drank too much cause they were all on duty."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"6am local. We've been down for about an hour."

"I'll have to thank the pilot for the gentle landing."

"We're parked and the pilot would like to talk to you when you're done with breakfast."

"Alright, I'm getting up."

"Feeling hung over?" he asked.

"Not from just one glass."

"Okay," he said, not believing me.

I was finishing up a nice breakfast of Fiji fruit and a side of sausage and toast when the pilot came and sat down.

"Morning," I greeted. "Would you like anything?"

"I'm good, I'll be bunking down in a bit. We've got permission to use the heavy transient ramp for up to two weeks."

"That should be plenty of time."

"Good. I'll be giving the crew leave later today. They'll be free to do as they wish until recall. Did you have a specific date for that?"

"We have two weeks, let's plan on two weeks. Have them go on recall alert a couple days early. I need to call my publisher and then do some TV interviews about my new book. Then I'm going to do some touristy things with Matt."

"Sounds good. I'll leave you to it. Oh, I almost forgot, your secondary security team is here with your ride."

"Thanks. Anything else to report?"

"If you hear the generator outside, that's the GPU, it will provide power to the plane if you need to come back to use the facilities."

"Excellent. I was wondering about that. There had been talk about installing a generator in the cargo area."

"That won't happen. Even running as light as we do, it's not worth taking the weight of an extra generator. The plane has one built in already. Using the GPU saves a lot more money on fuel compared to using the APU built into the plane."

"We will need it at some point. There was a scheduling issue to get it installed before I needed the plane. Can you make sure that happens on our next downtime?"

"Sure. I'll get it done."

"Thanks, sleep well and thanks for a landing so smooth I slept right thru it."

He grinned, gave me a nod and went forward to his duties.

I found Matt as he was packing up our luggage. "How soon to go?" I asked.

"I'll have everything ready in about thirty minutes. There's a phone on the base you can use, just head to the back and down the stairs. Security is there, they'll take you. Come back and get me when you're done."

"Got it."

When I arrived at the office to use the phone, I was greeted, "Ambassador Cook. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I thought that was just a one time thing as a Special Ambassador?"

"Your file says that it's still active. Did the State Department take your diplomatic passport?"

"No, I still have it," I said pulling it out of my pocket to show.

"Good, you'll need it for Japanese customs and immigration. That office is back at the Transient Ramp."

"Okay, I just need to make a phone call, I hope they are awake this early on a Sunday."

I dialed the number, and spoke briefly in Japanese with the person who answered. They took a message and I hung up.

"All set, they know I'm here, and what hotel I'll be at. They'll contact me at the hotel."

"Very good, Ambassador. Welcome to Japan. If you run into any difficulties, please give me a call," he said, handing me a business card.

I glanced at the card. It listed him as a Major in the US Air Force and the Protocol Officer for the base.

I headed back to the vehicle, sitting in the back of a matte-black armored Humvee. My contract with the security company gave them access to the vehicle, something I could do as AM General its producer was a subsidiary of General Atomics, which I owned and worked out of. A rather large man joined me on the big custom padded, gray leather rear bench seat. "Sir, I'm the local chief of security, Adam Brown."

"Mr Brown, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"The same here, sir."

"I'm not formal, just call me John. My assistant will probably tell you to call me boss as he thinks it's funny. That's fine. I don't care."

"Yes, we'll pick him up at the plane, then I'll take you both to the Japanese official for customs and immigration. They'll check your luggage and give you your visa stamp."

"Great, let's do it. You know where the hotel is?"

"Yes, Hotel New Otani Tokyo. Everything is arranged and the security sweep is completed. In an emergency we have the option of taking you from the roof via helicopter."

"I'm not expecting any emergencies this trip, Chief."

"That's why they are called emergencies, sir," he said with a chuckle.

Immigration went quickly, as it was done in a private office. A few Japanese low-level officials were there given my apparent status as a special ambassador and the special permission to land at Yokota Air Base. I hadn't had an official job since the Chernobyl accident in 1986. I was grateful that there hadn't been any other major water-related emergencies and that apparently the President was willing to respect child labor laws.

I chuckled over the commotion the caravan of Humvees had made while traveling. The local cars were tiny in comparison. Arrival at the hotel was quick and efficient. Security flanked and in formation led me to the elevators. We went straight to the top and the suites reserved for us. The hotel had an amazing view of the park to the west, as well as the 400-year-old garden next door. It looked like new construction was happening in the near distance, but it was just groundwork. The site was empty as it was a holiday and a Sunday.

The next couple of days were interesting. Everyone at the TV studios was stiff and formal until I spoke Japanese. Then their natural warmth came through and I answered their questions about my new book, and a few approved questions about other subjects. The first two Magic Eye books had been wildly popular. The publisher here in Tokyo and other major cities had sent people out onto the street to show them the book and explain how to see the pictures. It had generated a word-of-mouth phenomenon that was quickly picked up in the media.

I had a few meetings with some equipment providers to discuss mining equipment for Banaba. It had been called Ocean Island until 1979, when with Kiribati independence it had been renamed. I liked the old name better.

With business done, it was time to find something fun to do, and to slip away from security for a day or two.

"Ready to go have some fun?" I asked Matt, dropping a box on the couch next to him.

"Do I finally get to see inside the 'Matt Do Not Open' box you made me carry halfway across the world?"

"Yup. Security hired a boat, so we are going to do some fishing and a little treasure hunting."

"I like the fishing part. I didn't see a trowel in your luggage."

I held the box up, "No digging required!"

Matt was watching eagerly as the fishing boat held its place at the location I gave them. Security too was interested but they weren't still holding a fishing pole like Matt was. We had spent some time deep-sea fishing off the coast, and I had asked the captain to stop at this particular spot on the way back.

"This is a rebreather GA built for me using my CO2 cracking technology."

"So it's like scuba?" he asked as I slipped the helmet on.

Talking loudly to be heard through the helmet, "It's battery-powered and good for an hour underwater."

"Where are the tanks?" Chief Brown asked.

"No tanks, it's all part of the helmet."

"That's all you need?" he asked.

"Eight D batteries, a weight belt, a custom buoyancy vest and flippers. Have that and you're good to go."

"What's custom about the vest?" Chief Brown asked.

"Built-in mini compressed air tank. I don't have big scuba tanks to fill it with otherwise."

I put on the other equipment, then dropped over backwards into the water. The shipwreck in Tokyo Bay wasn't overly deep. Once I located it with my flashlight, I carefully removed the long box I was looking for and a few old coins.

I surfaced and was helped back into the boat where Chief Brown was looking mad that I had gone over on my own.

"Chief Brown," I said. "I thank you for your concern. You are right, I should have had a dive buddy. Next time I will. As an apology, I'll give you my dive equipment when I leave and you can come back to dive for treasure on the wreck."

He considered a moment. Then recognized my grin for what it was, "Keep the equipment, it'll never fit me."

I handed the box to Matt as the captain of the boat came to excitedly ask, "Did you find sunken treasure?"

"Just the box, and a few coins," I said and showed him one.

"You aren't allowed to take treasure from sunken vessels," he insisted.

"You are free to return to this site and investigate the wreck on your own. I apologize for the trouble I've caused you."

I turned to Matt and in English instructed, "Matt, give him the little something I gave you for the man's trouble."

Matt reached into a pocket and pulled out a small packet of money, "As you can see from the coins, they are not Japanese. Take this little consideration for your worry."

The captain flipped briefly through the cash. It was ten thousand US dollars. He gave a short perfunctory bow and returned to the pilothouse.

Matt handed the box back to me. It was tightly wrapped in tar-covered leather. I looked at the Chief and at Matt. "We are done fishing, right?"

They agreed we were done, so we continued back to port. At the hotel I carefully wrapped the items in plastic, then put them in a backpack that had been in my luggage. The long box just barely fit. That accomplished I found Matt.

"I need you to go downstairs and call a cab to take me to the train station."

"You aren't using security to take you?"

"No. I need to sneak away. Leave them a note in your room that we'll be fine and back in two days."

He wrote the note and took my backpack with him downstairs. I slipped out past security and went down to meet him and the cab. At the train Matt paid for the tickets north.

We didn't talk, just watched the scenery buzz past the window. When we got to the stop, we disembarked and I used a payphone to call a cab. It took us to the base of a mountain.

"Matt, I'm supposed to do the next part of this journey alone. I need you to go back to the town we passed through and wait for me at the hotel there. I'll be back tomorrow," I told him.

He didn't want to let me go but finally relented. So with my backpack loaded-up, I started to climb the mountain path to the hidden monastery. I knew I was being watched after the first mile. I ignored the watchers. When I reached the first stone marker, I left one of the coins I found on it. When I reached the second marker I left a second coin.

The third stone marker got the plastic-wrapped leather-covered box. The final stone marker got my backpack. Now unburdened, I turned back down the path and took a fork that led to a cliff wall. There I sat after bowing to the wall. Every hour I stood, went through my Tai Chi poses and then bowed to the wall and sat.

I didn't eat or drink. I just sat and meditated with my eyes closed between Tai Chi. As the sun set, I was joined by two people. I didn't say anything, but they sat with me. Once the sunset finished, I performed no more Tai Chi but just sat there and meditated.

At sunrise my two companions stood and waited for me. I went through a few stretches, performed my Tai Chi routine, and then bowed to the wall. Then in a clear voice I spoke to the wall. "Master, I return bearing wisdom, carrying that which was lost." Then I bowed low and held it.

A voice from the top of the cliff called out, "Come if you know the way."

I moved to the cliff and began to climb. My silent companions just watched from below. While I knew each and every handhold, it was still a frightening thing to free-climb with no rope or tools. I was particularly happy I didn't share my Grandmother's fear of heights when I looked down as I climbed.

At the top I was greeted by ten robed men who said nothing but just gestured that I come, then formed an honor-guard of five on each side. We walked up to an ancient wooden building where a middle-aged man sat in a chair. The honor guard stopped, so I bowed.

"Tell me who you are," he commanded.

"I am John Wayne Cook."

"Tell me what you are," he commanded.

"I am spirit reborn as flesh."

"Tell me why you are," he commanded.

I was silent. It was a trick question.

He waited, then grunted. "Come John Wayne Cook. We will eat and you will tell me more."

He stood and I followed him inside to a table. There he joined my honor guard, the two men who had sat vigil with me overnight and a dozen others sitting at the tables. He offered me the seat next to his, and I accepted it.

We all ate as bowls were placed in front of us filled with rice and vegetables. I had no difficulty with my chopsticks. But I did not talk and no one else did either. We finished the bowls and set them on the table. They were whisked away to be replaced with cups of tea. Everyone watched as I took my teacup and poured it out on the ground.

That made a few of them stiffen in shock. But the man who interrogated me smiled widely.