Stranger Aeons

"History is the only laboratory we have in which to test the consequences of thought."

-Etienne Gilson

Prologue: In My Chapel

The alarm clock's scream awoke me from the bliss of sleep. Unwillingly, I stood up, walked across the dorm room, and turned it off. I took my vitamins from my drawer, and then started my light morning calisthenics routine. My mind was somewhere between numb and awake as I did my wrist-push ups. I ate an apple and banana with some cereal in a plastic bag, with a few nuts in it. What was left of my normal breakfast was then cleaned from my teeth after I brushed, flossed, and rinsed. My morning routine was almost over. Afterwards, I got changed, and headed downstairs to man my station.

I gave a half-conscious nod to anyone I saw, not stopping to engage any of my coworkers in conversation. I arrived at the door to my room, and I gave a quick look around. I pulled out my keycard, and unlocked the door. I turned on the lights, and laid eyes on my primary workplace. A computer sat in one corner, with a television next to it, and a videogame console next to it. A small bookshelf stood perpendicular to them, with a few books on technology, science, history, and philosophy above a shelf with an encyclopedia set with some science-fiction and fantasy books beneath them. This room was where I spent most of my free time. Most of my coworkers called it "JC's Place." However, it had an official name.

On paper, it was known as the "Stranger Aeons Fabrication and Inventory Room." In other words, I was the quartermaster and tech support all rolled into one. I held onto most of the devices used by the company on operations both legal and "other." I also helped run the auto-fabber in the backroom. My training as a mechanical engineer did allow me to operate the auto-fabber better than the other employees. My secondary job function, however, was hands-down my favorite.

"JC's Place" had another nickname, and that was the Arsenal. Along the walls were some of my favorite things in the world: Guns. The ones on the wall were both a mix of real ones and Airsoft replicas, meant to confuse any would-be thief. None of them, however, had ammo or were able to fire anything without me adding a few parts to them. The guns were tested at a range just down the hall, near a room with extra cubicle walls we used for CQB instruction. We would train people to use the Airsoft version, then the "real steel."

The rest of the Company and I each had our favored guns. Of course, a few were mutual favorites. We had a Steyr AUG A1, A2, and A3. We had a Heckler and Koch G36C (which I had named "Schadenfreude," after my favorite word in the world). We had a number of handguns, from the HK USP to the Colt M1911A1 to various Glocks. My own favored sidearm was my Glock 18C, which resembled a handgun, but was capable of full-auto fire. We had a few Remington and Mossberg shotguns, and my favorite of them was my first gun, my Mossberg 500. I had nicknamed that one "Chipper" after the tree stump I had used for target practice.

We also had a few other guns that were not for display. There was a Howa Type 89-F, a Norinco QBZ-95, an HK 416, a trio of HK MP5K submachineguns, a pair of Norinco Type 86 rifles, and a box of AK-47s in the backroom. These firearms were only my favorite part of the collection. Other devices, such as sensors, nightvision goggles, knives, and other, more esoteric things were hidden in boxes in the backroom. However, such an overt display of firearms did have a way of deterring most people from entering and making small talk.

I pulled out Von Mises, my Glock 18, and fondled the unloaded firearm for a while. I loaded a magazine in, and placed it next to my computer. I turned the machine on, and waited for it too boot up. As the familiar desktop appeared, I opened my web browser and checked my email. Nothing new, aside from the normal replies in my roleplaying forum. After posting my response, I checked a special account on an infrequently visited part of the web. My boss had sent me a request. My coworker Akira needed more semi-caseless 5.56mm NATO rounds. Knowing his preference for establishing fire superiority, I headed into the backroom.

I walked past several boxes of items organized by no particular method to reach the auto-fabber. Loading several metal cylinders into the water-jet device, I walked over to the control console. The proper amounts of feedstock were ready, as was the required water-pressure. Soon, precise, computer controlled jets of high pressure water were making the metal cylinders into bullet like shapes. Instead of a traditional brass casing, however, they each were given an extended hollow cavity on the back. This was then loaded with propellent. When the hammer struck, the propellent would drive the entire bullet out of the gun without the need for a brass case. This was cheaper, and left far less evidence. While it was not true "caseless ammo," it was a nice evolutionary step in that general direction. Co-opting existing calibers from existing guns was easier than starting from scratch.

After finishing enough bullets to fill a few magazines, I put them in a storage box, and headed back to my computer. I took a longing glance at my chapel to weapons, and went back to reading my email. The boss wanted me to accompany Nakamura on his next job. Based on some of the other people going, something big was obviously going down. I would need to get packing the gear everyone would need soon. But, this was not just my job. This was how I helped protect the future: by preserving the past. Stranger Aeons existed for far more than just security for archeologists in dangerous parts of the world. Since the Boss was a Lovecraft fan, I recalled the verse from the (mercifully fictional) Necronomicon: "That is not dead which can eternal lie, yet with stranger aeons, even Death may die."

While Death has yet to "die," I would be quite content maintaining, dealing with, and using the tools that killed men. By most standards, I, Jay Collins, was a horrible person. But, it was not most standards me or my coworkers gave a shit about. It was how efficient we could work for our goal. The free market didn't reward the lazy or incompetent (at least ideally). But, since the chief alternative to capitalism went against everything we knew on human nature, might as well live with it. I readied Von Mises and Schadenfreude, and began to gather my other gear. Most jobs started out like this. But, rarely did they end it bloodshed. That would change too soon, of course.

--

Notes: "Stranger Aeons" will be regularly updated once "Empires of the Sun" is finished. It takes place in the same universe as "The Infowar" and "The Infoduel" as a collection of "side stories" relating to a group of eccentric and bizarre individuals trying to preserve the future by saving the past. Realism will be major part in the upcoming stories, though there will be some times where "Rule of Cool" is used. But, there will be no fantastic or supernatural elements, as reality is often more interesting to read than fiction. Historical events shall be woven into the narrative, but watch who tells what story, and how they may differ. The intro chapter served to introduce a main modern character, a slightly-crazed gunsmithing polymath. Others will follow.

"No harm's done to history by making it something someone would want to read."

-David McCullough