Project Watergate (Part 2)

July 19, 2010
By , Saint James, NY
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"Excellent work, Dr. Bradley," exclaimed the president, "You should be proud of yourself for accomplishing such a feat. Your machine may win us this war yet."

I replied, "Thank you, Mr. President. I was just wondering who has control over him, sir?"

"You have complete control, Bradley. I trust that you will unlock the full potential of his weapons systems soon enough to help us win over there."

"Of course, sir. I will also be sure to not unlock them too soon, in case he gets out of control. With that much firepower, you cannot tell what he will do without control."

"Very well. Now, I have a meeting to attend. So, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Mr. President."

The communications channel was closed, and I was ready to go home. So, I was not completely retired, but it was certainly a start. All I had to do was keep the locks on the machine and when he shows enough discipline and self-control, I would unlock them. So I put the control mechanism into its special briefcase and headed home.

When I arrived back at my house, I took a shower and sat down to watch the news. The news channel that I had put on was covering a breaking story in the Middle East. They had proclaimed that a "super soldier" was joining the fight against the terrorists. They weren't sure if he was human or not, but they were sure that he was on our side. So far, he hadn't done any damage to U.S. troops, which was good.

Another news network was debating as to whether the super soldier was developed by the U.S. government or not. As does everything, the debate turned into an argument over political parties.

Once I had seen enough, I turned off the TV and began to open up the briefcase that I had brought home. The locks on it were intricate; it required just as much assurance that I was who I said I am as the way to the old lab. Although, I suppose if I ever develop memory problems as my age increases I won't ever forget who I am.

So I finally get the contraption opened up and ready to go when I hear a voice coming from the partially closed briefcase. It sounds vaguely familiar, but I cannot for the life of me remember from where. I pry the metal case open further and look on with awe at the small screen included with the hardware. Without the voice, I would not have recognized the man on the screen, but with sight and sound paired together, I realized who it was. I never thought I would hear that old man's voice again when he passed away. Nearly thirty years ago now, I think. Dr. Wilson was the lead technician on Project Watergate back when I first joined the team, and he had always been a huge inspiration in my work. In my amazement, I was hardly listening to what he had been saying. Something about Watergate, I assume.

"That is why we need you to take the included pill. I am not at liberty to tell you what it will do, but your full and unfaltering trust is what we need to ensure the success of the mission at hand."

I looked inside the case and saw that there was a gray pill inside. I picked it up and examined it, pondering the repercussions of following my orders. If anyone else had told me to take the pill, I may not have taken it. But this was my mentor; he had taught me everything that I used to continue the project. I knew what he would do, so I did it too.

I was too tired to get water, so I swallowed it dry. It took a while to get it all the way down, but once it was down I had a strange feeling all over my body. Then I heard a knock on the door. I began sweating profusely. Something was wrong with the pill. It was at least thirty years old. I staggered to turn the door knob after finally arriving at the door. There were two men in suits that told someone over their radio, "He's still conscious. Okay."

The voice that I could faintly hear in between the steadily increasing beat of drums in my head was another that I could recognize. I had heard it on TV before. Who was it? I could not think. So many memories flashing through my mind. I found it hard to think about the pain that had arrived in my neck. I turned my head to see a needle, held by one of the men in the suits, sticking in my neck. Fluid was being transferred, I could tell that much.

I don't know what happened after that. Well, immediately after that, I mean. A lot happened after that actually. They are memories I know only too well.







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Hello, Dr. Bradley. Oh, hold on one second. Targeting systems functional. Target identified: enemy. Weapon systems functional. Relevant orders: fire at will. Engaging enemy. Enemy neutralized. I am truly sorry that you had to see that. War is not a pretty thing.

Watergate?

At your service, Dr. Bradley.





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