Xref: news.nzbot.com alt.fan.prettyboy:20621
Path: news.nzbot.com!spool1.sonic-news.com!pull-news.sonic-news.com!news.astraweb.com!border5.newsrouter.astraweb.com!not-for-mail
Subject: +*+*+*+ Solomon's Private File #67 "At the Bureau" +*+*+*+
Date: Mon, 03 Aug 2015 18:11:51 -0400
From: " +Grant. " <+Grant@grant.grant>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.prettyboy
Reply-To: +Grant.
Organization: .
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1
Content-transfer-encoding: 8bit
X-No-Archive: yes
Lines: 337
Message-ID: <55bfe728$0$41752$c3e8da3$5d8fb80f@news.astraweb.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: c0ad4346.news.astraweb.com
X-Trace: DXC=XS4??M\bS484K?0c7HD\@7L?0kYOcDh@:N0hDY^TeZ^9nVPLie1YL`4aJO_]QU2XR8_T:Ai^UCAA;1o7Mdg9nhY46oNEFilJ_B>fX>@:aEL[e3
Solomon's Private File #67
These stories about Stephen and Solomon take place starting in
1950's. Stephen wrote about his life in letters to a penpal, and then
in a secure blog, in case he lost his memory again, in the master
computer in his school for gifted students, which he started attending
in 2016 in a new incarnation, until his death. Now his son Solomon is
attending the same school, and is writing in his own secure blog for
his future incarnations.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Solomon is 15 in this story, in the Winter of 2041-2042.
Solomon's Private File #67 "At the Bureau"
START Page
Los Angeles California. A new church. Preacher in it claimed to be
the reincarnation of the Biblical Solomon. I went there in a new
disguise, older looking. I listened. I went there a few more times.
That was noticed. One of his assistants, after one of the services,
asked me if I would like a private talk with the minister. I went with
him to a back room that was set up like a media center. I was alone
with him. He said, "I've noticed you've been here a number of times.
What do you think?" I said, "They pay. They get some counseling in
return. More honest than a casino in service, if not in presentation."
He stared at me, and then he broke out in a grin, and said, "You've
done this before?" I said, "Actually, yes. I've done a lot of things.
Some were good. Some were bad. Some, it depends on how you feel about
it from moment to moment. Important thing is, you don't believe your
own er, crap, and you handle the true believers very carefully. You
don't, well, business owners have died because of that." He said, "Wow!
You really DO know the business." I said, "What about rivals? What if
somebody else claims to be the reincarnation of Solomon?" He said, "I
got in first. Better believability." I said, "Maybe not. Stephen said
he was Menelik, a son of Solomon. He would have done his time research
on that life. It's not published, but what happens if it does come
out?"
He said, "That could complicate things, but I think I could get
through that." I said, "He named his son Solomon. Think that's a
coincidence? Oh, and when he was asked about that on TV, he didn't deny
it. People think he would have, if he could have." He said, "Oh. I see
that. But the son hasn't said." I said, "With his wacky humor, he could
be waiting for somebody like you, before he did that. You might get a
lot of press, but being run out of town on a rail after that, might not
be the nicest ride of your life. Thought about choosing a safer name
for your next gig? You know, even if you don't get exposed, this gig
won't last forever. That's a good thing. Take it from me, your true
believers are going to really mess with your head over time." He stared
at me for a while, and was then thoughtful. He said, "Some are already
causing trouble. I can't stand fanatics." I said, "You create what you
can't stand? Ha!" He chuckled.
I said, "You're an effective counselor, and a gifted actor. Ever
thought of going legit with one of those?" He said, "Yes, a lot. But
that's work." I said, "And this is a piece of cake? All a matter of
attitude." He said, "True. But that takes money." I said, "And when you
have it, you don't use it wisely." He stared at me some more. He said,
"You are more than I thought. Much more." I said, "I've been where you
are. How about this; I set up a trust fund that pays directly for only
your living and education expenses. You should have enough other money
to handle incidentals. Get some real paper to back up your abilities,
and you can fly." He said, "You will do this for ME?" I said, "Sure. I
have much more than I'll ever need. Why not use it to help people who
are in trouble for what I used to do? Hmm, I actually did much worse at
times. Best we don't go there." He said, "So you're doing this to make
up for your past?" I said, "Nope. That's over and done with. I do it
because I care. I know how it is, more than most people." He had some
tears, and said, "I don't know if I can make this work, but I accept."
I said, "Good. After it's set up, the trust manager will contact you.
You don't get anything until this is closed down, though. Good thing
you aren't using your real identity here. Turn your back on a religion
you run, they'll take chunks out of your backside if they can find
you." He laughed, and said, "You really do know!"
He said, "How did you know about my identity?" I said, "I checked you
out. Think I would do this unprepared? Oh, and this wouldn't have
happened if you hadn't asked me to see you." He said, "Wow!" We stood
and shook hands. I walked out. I set things up through the enterprise.
He did close his church down, but he hasn't yet stepped onto the path
we had discussed.
A woman with a half open Third Eye, and some PK ability she knew
about, walked into the FBI building and went to personnel. I called the
Head of that Department and said to her, after I gave her the name of
the applicant, "We don't want her in our department. Two reasons. She's
partially psionic, and she has serious ethical deficiencies." He said,
"Oh. I see. Send her to the Company?" We laughed. I said, "Good one.
But no, too much for them. Thanks for the laugh. Turnabout is good!"
Chuckles. When she was refused, she tried to use her abilities. I
blocked them and implanted restrictions. I told the department head
about it, and she was amazed but thankful.
I asked to see the Director. I told him what happened. He said, "Why
didn't you want the CIA to have her?" I said, "Because she would have
THEM, if she went to work there. That might not have been a bad thing,
if she believed in and supported their mission. All she cared about was
herself." He said, "You're going to watch her." I said, "Yes. The
implanted restrictions. She's already noticed them, but she hasn't
worked through all the implications yet. Someday she will, and she just
might use that to straighten herself out over time. If she goes really
bad, I'll remove her special abilities. Good thing for her that most of
her ugliness doesn't show on the outside." He nodded. He said, "There
was a church in California that had a reincarnation of your namesake in
it. Gone now. Your doing?" I said, "How is that FBI business?" He
grinned and said, "Because I wanted it so." I said, "Just for that, I
won't tell you." I got up to leave, and at the door I said, "He should
be starting school soon." He chuckled well.
A man walked into my office. The interview went well. Than I said,
"There is an issue. The Bureau investigates all who work for them,
because we also investigate other agencies for security clearances.
You're deep in the closet. That door could be opened." He said, "Gays
aren't allowed to work here?" I said, "No problem with that. We already
employ gays and lesbians. Not for that reason, but because we just
don't care about sexual orientation. What we DO care about is our
people wanting to keep significant secrets that can lead to blackmail."
He said, "That's reasonable. Hoover did that, didn't he?" I said, "Yes.
So we DO know how vulnerable that can make people. Also, that you lie
about your life can reduce your credibility with people who really need
to trust you with their lives. Special Agents often work in teams. That
trust is critical. And we have some very smart people here. They will
figure it out pretty fast. So, still want to work here?" He said, "I'll
have to come out?" I said, "We can't make that decision for you. But
then, I think you know what is best." He thought for a little, and
said, "I'll tell the truth if I'm asked. I won't try to hide who I am,
but I won't broadcast it." I said, "I don't usually do this, tell
somebody what I'm putting in their evaluation, but you deserve to know.
High marks for courage." He almost cried. As he was leaving, I said,
"Keep your sense of humor up. Takes the sting out of a lot of things
that bite us." He looked at me oddly and said, "Thanks. I'll remember
that."
My next client came in. She looked at my nameplate, and smiled. I
said to her, "I should have been a dentist, I see so many teeth here."
She laughed. I took and read her file. I said, "Oh! A doctorate in
forensic accounting. You're NOT going to look at my checkbook!" She
laughed again. The rest of the interview went well. After that, she
said, "Is your name real?" I said, "But it doesn't have numbers in it."
She grinned and nodded. A definite hire. Really needed.
My next client looked and acted very nervous. I asked him about that.
He said, "I don't like psychologists. They make me nervous. I don't
believe in that stuff." I said, "You're nervous because you know we
know more about people than those people want us to know." He said,
"Yes, that sounds right." I said, "So you do believe in this stuff." He
said, "I see the contradiction. I wonder why I didn't before." I just
grinned, and he laughed. He said, "You're good! Very good." I said,
"I've heard worse, believe me." He nodded. I said, "We need our people
to be the very best. That means we have to know as much as we can about
them. Lives depend on that, even the future of our country. The job can
be very stressful. People who work here value the help we can give them
for that, which sometimes actually saves their lives. All that means
you will be evaluated almost constantly your first year here, by
practically all you meet. What do you think about that?" He said,
"You're a psychologist because you care about people?" I said, "Yes.
Here, we are part of the team, and we really DO care. If you can accept
that, and want to be a part of this team, we can proceed with the
evaluation." He said, "I know better now. I do." We did, and he was
approved.
My next client was a big man. Cocky. He didn't think much of me,
which I said at the end of the evaluation. He didn't say anything. I
said, "Come on, you can tell me." He said, "Right. A little egghead.
You think you're better than other people." I said, "Isn't that what
you think about yourself?" Silence. I said, "You want to work here, you
talk first." He said, "I AM better." I said, "In which way?" He said,
"I'm stronger and faster that almost everybody." I said, "And how do
you know that? I ask, because we have some of the best people in the
world here, of all abilities." He looked like he was reconsidering his
position. He said, "Better than most I've met." I said, "I'll accept
that as an opinion. But how do you verify that opinion?" He looked more
thoughtful, and said, "What's your point?" I said, "The Bureau isn't
interested in having as Special Agents, people who are fast and strong.
We want people who can handle difficult situations with the least
violence and the most intelligence. And people who can investigate
people without prejudgment interfering with that process." He said,
"But I'm still right about you." I said, "Forgetting something? I work
here. I see. You still cling to that. I'm a senior black belt, and I've
won a major breaking competition. More, all my shrinks in my department
here, are black belts. I told you, we have the best people. Some of us
have actually been attacked by applicants. None of us have ever been
injured. Now you know why." He said, "I don't believe you." I sealed
the envelope, and handed it to him. I said, "Please take this back
with you to personnel." He said, "So I'm not accepted?" I said, "I
didn't say that."
He said, "Why you little creep!" He reached across to grab me. I
jumped up and with a side kick to his chest, supporting my body with a
hand on the desk, I sent him hurling through the door I had remotely
opened for his exit. I walked out there as he was getting up, a very
surprised look on his face. I said, "We don't lie here. Want more, or
are you going to leave in one piece?" I picked up the envelope and
opened it, and wrote something in it. I said, "NOW you are disapproved.
Right. Approved applicants go back to personnel. If you want to come
back and try again, wait till you've grown up some. Give it a few
years." He slunk out like a whipped dog. I said to the onlookers,
"Well, that was interesting. You know, that karate stuff actually
works." Some chuckles and laughter. One of the evaluated applicants who
witnessed that, said, "Wow! Even the psychologists can fight. I REALLY
want to work here." I said, "Some can shoot, too. We don't like that
here. Too noisy. Think. You saw guards in personnel, because outsiders
go there. Here, no guards. Right. We don't need them. Well, except
occasionally to haul away some er, trash." She laughed and said, "I'll
remember that." She left. One of the secs said to me, "He was BIG!" I
said, "Right. Couldn't miss. Good thing for him. If he were a smaller
man, my kick could have caved in his chest. Oh, don't look at me like
that. We're all black belts. Do you think we would EVER place our
people anywhere where they couldn't completely handle any situation the
best way possible?" She nodded and said, "I should have thought of
that. You plan everything to the finest detail." I said "Better that,
than have detail pinned on our butts." Some odd looks with the loud
laughter.
An applicant glided into my office like a tiger on the prowl. I
estimated him to be a 4th degree black belt in a striking art. I looked
at his file. It didn't say the degree or art, just that he was a black
belt. He was good in academics, too. I said, "When do you expect to
complete your master's?" He said, "End of the year." I said, "Personnel
will need an official transcript then." He nodded. The interview went
well. Then I said, probing deeper, "Are you concerned the FBI won't
live up to your standards?" He said, "You're good! Yes." I said, "How
would you go about determining that before you come to work here?" He
thought a little, and said, "A competition?" I said, "Well, you're
here. I'm here. We can do that if you want to accept me as your
opponent." He said, "I didn't expect this!" I said with a grin, "I win
the first game." He laughed. I said, "Quiz me on your academic
specialties?" He did, and I correctly answered all his questions but
one, in his opinion. I proved I was right, using the internet. I said,
"What's next?" He said, "The physical?" I said "We have a gym and a
firing range. Which one first?" He said, "We can do this?" I said,
"Sure. Why not?" He said, "What about your supervisor?" I said, "No
problem. Shall we go? Choose." He said, "Firing range." We went. I said
to the range master, "Applicant wants to test to see if we are good
enough." He grinned his face almost in half. He set up a pair of
targets, and issued us some pistols and ear protectors. When we were in
position, he gave us the magazines. I said, "You go first." By then,
there was quite a crowd there. Somebody must have spread the word.
He fired the whole clip, and made a nice grouping in the center of
the chest. I complemented him on it. I fired, putting it between the
eyes, and then as fast as possible, I made a smile where the mouth
should be. I said, "One shot left. Tell me where I should place it." He
said, "Nose?" While still looking at him, I did that. I said, "Gym
next?" He was in shocked amazement. We went there, with quite a crowd
behind us. I said behind me, "Not concerned about effectiveness
reports?" Some chuckles. Some did leave. He looked at me in curiosity.
I said, "Department Head." He made a silent oh. We took off our ties,
and shoes and socks, and rolled up sleeves. I said, "Whatever you
want." Somebody yelled out, "Don't do it!" He smiled and said,
"Protective of you." I said, "Actually no. Of you. They're here to
watch me, not you. You're a 4th degree." He said, "How did you know
that? It's not on my application." I said, "Because I'm better. Attack
me any way you want to." We bowed, and he did that. I blocked it all.
Then I threw him around a little. After that, he needed a rest. He
said, "You haven't hit me." I said, "Last time I did that was in my
office. A hulking mountain of a man wanted to get physical. I kicked
him out of my office. Literally. Across my desk, and he flew through
the door into the middle of reception." Some were nodding. I said, "Now
you know why we have some rubberneckers here. So, we are good enough
for you?" He said, "Absolutely! Er, just how good are you?"
I said to the manager of the gym, "That heavy bag. Cost a lot?" He
grinned and said, "Out of my pay if necessary." I said, "I'll speak to
the Director." I walked over to it, and said, "This is pure martial
arts. Partially involving Ki, or Chi, depending on your art." I stood
close, and touched the finger tip of my spear hand to the bag. With a
yell, I sent it, and my arm, without pulling back, completely through
the bag. I said in the stunned silence, "That was the easy part.
Getting my arm out isn't going to be nearly as easy." I wrestled it
free. Then I gave it a shin roundhouse kick, that sent it across the
room, ripping it off of the mount. I said, "I broke my leg doing that
to a wooden post last year." The manager said, "I know you. You broke
it with the other leg then." I looked at him with approval, "Right.
Awkward, but I did it. I think we here would all do that. Mission
first." A lot of nods. The applicant said, "How?" I said, "I train at
least two hours a day, and have been doing that since almost before I
could walk." He said, "I just thought of something. I picked the best
man here to test, didn't I?" I said, "I don't think if it that way. To
me, it's not the physical that counts. Unless you have to use your
fingers." There were some odd looks mixed in with the chuckles and
laughs. I said, "Anyway, it's my responsibility to approve you, so it
should be me you should test. That's fair." He said, "If I had picked
another psychologist there?" I said, "In MY Department? What do you
think?" He said, "I see. Right. Wow! I really do want to work here." I
addressed the crowd, and said, "Well?" Applause. I said, "Your fate is
sealed. Good thing you aren't a walrus." More strange looks and
laughter.
I said, "Let's go back to my office." We went. I wrote some things in
his file, and put it in the envelope and sealed it. I gave it to him
and said, "Please take this with you to personnel. You are probably
very much expected, if the internal grapevine is as good as it usually
is, even though it's not supposed to exist. No point in whining about
it, though." He looked at me strangely, and had to chuckle. He said,
"Your odd humor reminds me of someone." I said, "I get that a lot. With
so many billions of people around, we should all doubt that any kind of
humor is unique to just one person." He nodded, and we shook hands. He
left.
In an education and family meeting, Pete said, "You know we all watch
what you do at the Bureau, even the others of us there who can. Great
learning experience." I said, "I know that. I can see their
viewpoints." He said, "Can you stop it?" I said, "If and when I need
The rest of us laughed. She said, "I think you're using your humor more
than we thought it was for. Sometimes more than is needed at the time
for the obvious reasons." I gave them a mysterious smile and said,
"Depends on who defines what is obvious." Pete poked her. I said,
"Pete, you owe me." They laughed. Hawk said, "What you do with your
special applicants isn't just for them." I said, "Right. Very little of
what I do with regular people is so limited. Look for the extra
reasons, and the larger picture. Guess if you have to." Pete said, "YOU
are teaching US?" I gave him a look. He said, "Oh, Right. I said that."
Mom said, "You could hide your identity more than you do. You are
deliberately letting things slip through what we would think was your
personal security." I said, "When did I start that?" There were a lot
of wows. Mom said, "Summer camp!" I said, "Yep. We knew I would have to
work in the open sooner or later. I decided to make that happen MY
way." More wows. I said, "An important axiom for us; What you don't
control of you, events and others will." Hawk said, "I prefer the other
one. 'Or detail pinned on our butts'." Chuckles. I said, "Actually, so
do I." We hugged and kissed.
END Page
--
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Grant
|
|