I know, your head is starting to hurt. Maybe this would be
easier if I let Herb tell what happened thirty-odd years ago.
I'll be back later.
Chapter One: HERBERT'S STORY
I was born Herbert Wells in 1950 in the city of Glasgow. I
basically had a normal upbringing; I was happy playing and being
with my friends. In March of 1969 I applied and was accepted to
join the Royal Army. I was placed with the RAMC (the Royal Army
Medical Corps) and by the end of 1969 I'd completed all my
training.
The only thing left was to pass out from training. I was in the
top one percent and very proud of having done so well. There
were even mutters about the possibility of my being sent to
Sandhurst, the Officer's School.
On the 3rd of January I passed out from training. My parents
were in the audience to watch me march past. As soon as the
parade was over the new soldiers all got their postings -- except
for me. A general came over with my captain and requested me to
come with him. Maybe this would be my posting to Sandhurst. I
was hopeful as I excused myself from my parents and followed him
and the captain.
We went into a little room, and the General cautioned me that I
wasn't to say _anything_ about what went on in that room.
Nothing. To anyone. Ever. I agreed and he said that he was
looking for a volunteer for special duty. If I refused it
wouldn't go on my service record. That's what they said, but I
knew the truth. If I refused, they would remember, and it would
dog me for the rest of my career, if I had one left at all.
If I took the special duty I would receive a letter of
commendation in my service record but that would be it. It
hardly seemed fair, but then the Army didn't have a reputation
for fairness. The general told me that "if" I took the
assignment I would have a six-week leave of absence and then I
would be taken somewhere secret.
I asked if I had to decide right away, thinking about the two-
week leave that I had earned by completing training. The General
said that he needed an answer within 48 hours. I told him I would
think about it that night and let him know the following morning.
The General said that was fine and he gave me a number that I
could use to reach him.
As I left, he made a point of reminding me that I couldn't tell
anyone about our discussion. And the captain hadn't said a word.
Why was he there? As soon as I had left the room and found my
parents they asked me what the general had wanted. I told them
that I couldn't talk about it and that I had some thinking to do.
My dad immediately said "Okay, I understand.", but my mother kept
trying to get me to tell her what had happened. Father stuck up
for me saying "Leave him alone, Susan, he told you that he's not
allowed to talk about it." My mother wasn't happy but let it go.
The following day I decided that I would take the special duty
and called the number. After all, it's not as though I had a
choice. Once I had this voice at the other end of the phone, I
just said "Yes" and hung up.
A few moments later my phone rang. It was the General, saying
"As of this moment you are working for me. If you have any
problems call me on the same number and I will deal with it. You
are now on 6 weeks leave. When your leave ends, report to
Redford barracks in Edinburgh." And with that he hung up.
What had I gotten myself into?
I decided to just enjoy my six weeks leave and let it go at that.
Just before I was due to begin my leave, I received a letter
addressed to Lance Corporal H. Wells. I wondered why it had
given me the rank of Lance Corporal. I decided that it must be a
mistake, and opened it.
"Private Wells, you are hereby Promoted to the rank of Lance
Corporal and ordered to report to General Jones at Rexford
Barracks on the 18th of February 1970." It was signed with a
name that I couldn't read.
***
Six weeks. It seems like a long time, but this particular six
weeks flashed by. I had a tearful farewell with my mother whilst
my father just shook my hand and reminded me to write to him and
keep them both informed. I said that I would write when I could,
but that he had to understand that the nature of my assignment
was such that it might make letters infrequent. He seemed to
understand, but made me promise to try to keep in touch. And on
February 18th, 1970, I reported to the commandant's office at
Rexford Barracks.
They were expecting me. As soon as I presented my orders, I was
hustled behind the counter into the commandant's office. The
commandant told me to leave my kit in the Guard room and report
directly to General Jones. I couldn't figure out why he would
get personally involved in something as unimportant as this.
I left the guard room and marched directly to the General's
office. Once I got there I stopped for a moment to make sure my
appearance was passable. After all, I had been traveling for the
last twelve hours. That does a lot to degrade a person's
appearance, but in the Royal Army that is never an excuse for a
slovenly appearance.
I knocked on the door to the office and the General called me in
immediately. Obviously he'd been notified that I'd reported. I
marched into the office and came to attention and saluted him.
"Lance Corporal Wells reporting for duty sir!"
The General told me to stand easy then he told me to sit down. I
took the chair in front of his desk and sat there nervously,
waiting to hear what he had to say. "I am going to tell you now
what your duty is. If you don't understand anything at _any_
time you are to ask me. We need you to try out a new drug that
will hold you in stasis for a time."
I interrupted him at that point and asked what he meant by
'stasis'.
"By stasis," he continued, looking annoyed at being interrupted,
"we mean a deep sleep like the hibernation some animals go into.
That's basically what we want to test." Then he asked if I had
questions.
Well, he said that he wanted me to question things I didn't
understand, but he acted like they were most unwelcome. Still, I
had to know what I was getting into before it was too late.
"How long will I be kept in stasis?" I asked.
"we expect the initial experiment to last six months. At that
point we shall bring you round and make sure everything is all
right." He paused a moment before continuing, as though he had
reservations about telling me the rest. "After that we may put
you back under again for a longer period, depending on what
happens the first time around."
I asked about my family. They would certainly become suspicious
if they didn't hear from me for all that time. The General
replied that my family was the least of their worries. I could
write some letters in advance and we would send them over the
time I was in stasis."
This didn't sit very well with me, but if I turned down the
assignment or made an issue of this, it would likely end my
military career before it had even started.
"I think that's all my questions sir, and may I thank you for my
promotion."
The general just laughed and said "Actually I am just about to
promote you again to Sergeant as you may need the rank." I was
pretty well flabbergasted at this. Two promotions in less than
two months, especially just out of training, was unheard of. "As
of tomorrow morning you are Sergeant Wells, so make sure that
your uniforms are correct. That's all for now, Sergeant. I'll
see you tomorrow at 1000 hours."
I stood up, saluted, and left the office to pick up my kit from
the guard room. When I got there I asked where I was to be
billeted. They told me to go to the sergeants mess and find the
orderly on duty and ask him where my room was to be.
When I arrived at the sergeant's mess I found the orderly. He
asked what I was doing there but once I told him my name he
showed me where my room was and told me about the meal times. I
went straight to my room and settled in. I was thinking the
entire time about the procedure that I was going to undergo,
whilst I was thinking about that I was altering my uniforms again
to reflect my new rank.
I enjoyed the thought of the new promotion, but I have to admit
that I was somewhat aggrieved about the necessity of altering my
uniforms again.
***
The next morning I was outside General Jones's office at 0955,
waiting for the appointed hour to arrive. In the army,
especially when dealing with generals, you are neither late nor
early. At precisely 1000 hours I knocked on his door and was
told to enter. I marched in, came to attention, and saluted. The
general said to sit down until he was through with some other
work.
I'm not sure I could even begin to describe what happened next.
When the general was ready, he led me to secure part of the
installation, one I hadn't even realized was there. I was
brought before some doctors, and ordered to strip. With some
degree of trepidation, I did so, and was immediately given an
injection.
One doctor apologized, but told me that they preferred for me to
not know too much about what was to happen. The injection took
good care of that. I have vague memories of being poked and
prodded, being forced to give specimens from virtually every
bodily orifice, and having what seemed like an inordinate amount
of blood drawn.
I was X-rayed, fluoroscoped, and scanned in myriad ways, but
nothing of what they were doing was explained to me. Once I
vaguely recall a technician making a comment about needing
additional genetic material before anything could be grown, but
he was immediately shushed by the others.
I couldn't even say whether the testing took hours or weeks, but
eventually they took me into a different laboratory, one with
what appeared to be large tanks that seemed to be sucking all the
heat from the room. I was laid onto a gurney, and an IV drip was
started.
I weakly looked up at the doctors, and saw the general standing
in the middle of the group. As I faded out, I heard him mutter
"Goodbye, Sergeant Wells, and may God have mercy on both of us."
That's the last thing I knew before my world ended.
Interlude: HELEN
This is Helen. I'm back.
I know, Herb isn't the most colorful guy. But he changes. And
you needed to know all that for MY story to make sense.
To Be Continued....
