Bleaker

the others had been destroyed by earthquakes or buried under water that failed to recede back into the Gulf of Mexico.
He imagined years earlier it must have been a shock for those who remembered the glory days pre-disaster. Now it was commonplace.
He didn’t get to experience any tremors, though he was warned he would. In a twisted way, experiencing one would have been fun.
Tucker didn’t even know where he was going. All he’d been told was to pack a bag; he wasn’t returning home.
There was a lot of life going into his one bag, but he did it.
Before he left, he visited the memorial site of his sister and the grave of his grandfather, both of which were located on the old farm property. Land that was eventually acquired from his grandfather to stop spectators from watching the ARC like a tourist attraction.
They allowed his grandfather to live there until he passed. They didn’t tear down the house. Workers actually lived there, and small trailers were set up on the property.
Tucker was a celebrity of sorts to those in the ARC world, so they had no problem with him visiting the grave.
He said his goodbyes, telling his grandfather, “I’m doing it, Pap, I’m going up there,” before leaving the farm for the final time.
He napped on the private plane, as advised by the pilot because it was going to be a long flight. He didn’t expect to land in Japan. He was informed by the flight crew that he wasn’t to get too comfortable as they would be leaving again in a day. They were picking up another crew member, then they’d head to their final destination.
“Which is?” Tucker asked.
“We really can’t say.”
A driver waited for him at the airport. Tucker managed to get a call through to Marshman while in the car.
Marshman had been sleeping and answered with a groggy, “Hello.”
“What the heck?” Tucker greeted him over the phone. “I’m halfway across the world and no one will tell me anything.”
“I apologize for that. I truly do. We just need to be secretive until we are secure at the facility.”
“And that is where?”
“You’ll know when you get here.”
“It’s that secret?” Tucker asked.
“It’s that important.”
“Okay, I’ll refrain from asking anymore.”
“Thank you. I am going back to bed. I will see you tomorrow at the facility.”
Tucker ended the call, placed the phone in his pocket, and stared out the window. He would have loved to have seen Tokyo before the world went on rationed living. Restaurants were all a thing of the past. The buildings remained but they were empty and dark. Bars and drinking establishments stayed; occasionally there was food, but not often.
The days of frivolous eating, wasting portions, and over-stocked grocery stores had disappeared five years earlier. That was a shame. The young generation would never know it, just like they wouldn’t know JAXA in its heyday.
Tucker had been there once, twenty years earlier. It was like the pictures of Kennedy Space Center when it was still above water. As they pulled into the grounds of JAXA, Tucker barely recognized it.
The grounds were barren, the grass dried, and some of the bushes and trees grew out of control. Even the driveway lacked maintenance. The rocket and part space shuttle that graced the outside of the building were weather worn. The front of the building appeared abandoned; the windows hadn’t been washed in years. The parking lot had one lone car.
“Holy crap,” Tucker said, “is there anyone even here? Or is that a question you can’t handle?”
“I found it strange that I was to bring you here. This facility has been closed for years. I think it is used for storage. I’m not sure.”
“And you’re supposed to just leave me here.”
“I guess that car”—the driver pointed—“is the person you are meeting.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Me? I’m Len.”
“No, not you, but nice to meet you, Len. A name for the person I am meeting.”
Len shook his head.
“Oh, well. Thank you for the ride.” Tucker grabbed his bag, stepped out, and closed the door. “Oh, one more…” Before he could finish, Len had driven away. Tucker tossed up his hand. “Great.” He shouldered his bag and walked to the main front doors.
They were open.
Thinking a sarcastic, Wow, security is top notch he walked inside.
The entire front lobby was empty except the visitor’s desk. There were no chairs, no displays.
Tucker would have thought it was a joke of some kind, being dropped off in a totally empty building in a strange country, had it not been for the one car in the parking lot. That told him that someone was there, unless it was an elaborate practical joke.
He was about to call out when he heard his name.
“Captain Tucker Freeman?”
“Um, yeah,” he replied, looking around.
“Sorry I wasn’t down there to greet you,” the male voice said, then was followed by the sounds of footsteps.
Tucker looked to his right and saw an Asian man in a JAXA jumpsuit coming down the open staircase. He held what looked like a metal suitcase and moved in a quick, upbeat pace.
The man extended his hand to Tucker. “Samu Horato, you can call me Sam,” he introduced himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My car is right out front. I told Marshman you could stay with me until we leave tomorrow for the base. Unless you’d feel more comfortable at a hotel.”
“No, no. Not at all. That’s fine,” Tucker said. “I’m comfortable anywhere. So why did we meet here?”
“I guess I could have met you elsewhere,” Sam said. “But this was nostalgia. Part of history, you know.”
Tucker nodded.
“And I had to get information, some files.”
Tucker balked a little and gave a quirky smile. “There’s no security here. I’m surprised they left anything behind.”
“They didn’t think anything of this.” He tapped the case. “It’s data. Old data.”
“Old data?” Tucker asked. “How old?”
“Like last century, the nineties.”
Tucker whistled. “Yeah, that’s a little old. Though I can’t imagine what data from 1990 would be useful now.”
Sam winked. “You’d be surprised.