"Now, Ed," said Delgado, "you know, this is just a routine interview. Anybody that has to do with the federal government at a high level, the FBI has to run a security check on them."
"Sure, I understand. Go ahead, shoot."
"Okay, where were you born and when?"
"Altoona, March fifteenth, nineteen ought one."
"That would be Altoona, Pennsylvania?"
"Right. My old man was a beer salesman there. He moved to Harrisburg when I was five."
"And his name was-?"
"Charles M. Stone. My mother's maiden name was Fanny Weingard."
Delgado made a note. "Have you ever been arrested or charged with a felony?"
"Yeah, when I first came back, they arrested me because I was in a hotel room where I didn't belong, and I had this old money on me. They thought I must of stolen it."
"Where and when was that?"
"Trenton, November ninth. This year."
"When you say old money-"
"Gold certificates, you don't use them anymore."
"I see. And how did that tum out?"
"They dismissed the charges and gave me the money back."
"Okay. Now do you have any identification to prove who you are? Sorry to ask this, but-"
"That's okay. Just my driver's license from nineteen thirty-one."
"Could we see that, please?"
"Sure." Stone got up and went into the bedroom, came back with a wallet. He pulled out the card and handed it to Delgado.
"Expires nineteen thirty-two," Delgado read. "Mind if I take a copy of this?"
"Go ahead." Stone watched with interest as Delgado produced a scanner from his pocket and ran it over the license. "How the hell does that thing work, anyway?"
"It digitizes the information, and then it can be reproduced in a computer and printed out."
"I've got to get me one of those. How much do they cost?"
Delgado turned to Smith. "What would you say, Tink?"
"You can get one in any drugstore for about four hundred bucks. Net order, you might get one for three fifty or sixty."
"That's amazing," Stone said. "In the thirties, that would be about four bucks. You couldn't even buy a radio for that."
"By the way, Ed," said Delgado, "I notice you appear to be a man of about thirty years of age. But you say here you were born in nineteen oh one?"
"That's because the aliens kidnapped me from nineteen thirty-one and brought me here. I think I was either in suspended animation, or else I died and they brought me back to life."
"I see," Delgado said. "That must have been an interesting experience."
"Oh, yeah."
"Well, let's see. Next thing, have you ever been a member of an organization declared subversive by the attorney general?"
"Not that I know of. What would that include?"
"Communists, anarchists, that kind of thing."
"Oh, no."
"It's a dead letter now, anyway. Do you know we've got a communist senator from Connecticut? Things have sure changed."
"No, I didn't know that. I'm still trying to catch up with a lot of stuff."
Delgado cleared his throat. "Now, Ed, have you ever been confined to a mental institution?"
"Yeah, the New Jersey State Mental Health Care Facility, that time when I was arrested. They let me go."
"Why were you confined in that institution, do you know?"
"Well, the judge thought I was crazy, because I told him about the aliens."
"Sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut," said Smith. They all smiled.
"All right," said Delgado, "now I don't suppose you've got any living relatives that we could talk to? Or neighbors, employers, that kind of thing?"
"Not anymore. You could talk to the head doctor in the nuthouse. His name is Dr. Wellafield."
Delgado wrote it down. "Well, that's it then." The two special agents stood up. "Thanks for your cooperation, Ed, and for being such a great guy."
CHAPTER 16
The President of the United States got to his feet when Stone entered the Oval Office, and so did the three others, Senator Givens, Congressperson Yamada, and Carl Jaekel.
"Come in, boy, set down, take a load off your feet," said the President. "Want you to meet Carl Jaekel. We been having a powwow about you."
They shook hands all around. Jaekel was a man in his late forties, lean and balding, with a grayish complexion.
"Bourbon and branch, Ed?"
"Yeah, thanks."
The President pushed the decanter and water jug closer and watched while Stone poured a drink. "Now, Ed, Dick and Ronnie here, they tell me the enabling legislation for the international corporation is gone go through just fine, and we can start setting you up some appointments with the high mucky-mucks over in Europe. And I know you'll do just fine, but with all you've got to do, you're gonna have to have an organization behind you."
"What kind of organization, Howie?"
"Less let Carl explain that. Carl?"
"Essentially, pretty much like a campaign organization," said Jaekel. "Okay if I show you what I mean?"
"Sure."
Jaekel put a pocket viewer on the table, popped up the screen, and displayed a chart. "Now, you see here, this is you at the top. Then right under you we have a manager, and under him, the way this is set up now, four departments. You've got secretarial, travel, publicity, and security."
"How many people is that?"
"Depending, it might be about a dozen, or it might be twenty or more. Then, of course, you want people to liaise with the Cube Group, with the Congress, the President, et cetera."
"To do what with them?"
"To be your liaison. Keep in touch, in other words." "Oh."
"Now, Ed, our suggestion is to think it over, and see if you'd like me to be your manager or if you'd rather try somebody else. I don't say this because I'm modest-"
Givens smiled.
"No, because I'm not modest, that's not one of my failings, but because whoever is your manager, it's got to be somebody you can trust and get along with. And one more thing, if you hire me and it doesn't work out, you can fire me. Anytime."
"Would you take care of hiring all these other guys?"
"Yes, that's my job. But you're the boss, and if you don't like somebody, they're out."
"Well, then, sure, let's try it."
Jaekel smiled and put his viewer away. "I like a man that can make up his mind," he said. He extended his hand, and Stone shook it again.
"How soon can you get something set up, Carl?" Givens asked.
"I'll know better after I make some calls this afternoon. Maybe early next week.''
"That's splendid," said Givens. Now, Ed, one more thing while you're here, there's a little problem with your passport. We sent to the Blair County courthouse for your birth certificate, but they tell us those records were lost in transit in nineteen ninety-seven. Well, in a way maybe it's fortunate, because if they found that birth certificate, you'd have to put down your age as one hundred and one."
"Yeah, that's right. "
"So, what is your real age, not counting the years between nineteen thirty-one and now?"
"Uh, let's see. Gee, it's hard to figure, because I would of been thirty March the fifteenth that year, but it was November the ninth when I got back."
"I see what you mean. Well, it would be simpler if you kept your birthday, and then you'd be thirty-one next March, you see. That would be better, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Okay, now what we can do is have the FBI construct a false identity, like they do with informers, and then the passport will go through without any trouble."
"You mean a phony name and a phony birthdate?"
"Right."
"I agree that's the best way," said Yamada.
"No, guys, sorry, but that's not what I want. Then I'd be carrying a passport that says I'm a phony. I want the real date on there, even if it's hard to believe. I mean, it is hard to believe, but that's the point, you see what I mean?"