Jim Bass: International Dad of Mystery
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Disclaimer:
Only one thing in this story is true.
We KNOW the Cold War is over. We know the Russians don't call each other comrade any more. We're pretty sure Lance is not unwittingly at the center of a world-wide conspiracy. And that none of the people whose names we used are involved on either side. (And any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely accidental.)
The one true thing in this story is that Lance IS the Cutest Boy on the Planet.
*****
Chapter 1: Bass. James Bass
May 1979
Jim Bass looked like any other proud father, standing by his wife's hospital bed and smiling down at his wife and son. At a tug on his hand, he lifted his small daughter, proudly dressed in her Sunday best, to sit on the edge of the bed, dangling her patent leather Mary Janes. "This is your baby brother," he said solemnly to the wide-eyed girl. "And this is your big sister," he added, addressing the newborn boy.
"He's little and red," Stacy exclaimed, obviously unimpressed. "When will he be big enough to play with me?"
"That will take a while," Diane drawled patiently. "But for now, I know you'll be a good girl and help Mama." She shifted the baby and made room for Stacy to sit next to her. Then, supporting both children, she settled Lance into his big sister's arms.
Jim beamed and picked up his camera, snapping pictures of the pretty tableau. Then he zoomed in and took several shots of his infant son. His son, and so much more. The product of many years of research and genetic engineering. The Cutest Boy on the Planet.
March 2002
Lance gazes with a mixture of trepidation and excitement as the van pulls into the parking lot of the Institute of Biomedical Problems. It's his first day of testing for his application to hitch a ride with the Russians to the International Space Station. Space. He can hardly believe it. It's something he's dreamed of his whole life and now it's within reach. He glances at his father, pensive in the seat next to him. He remembers the many talks they had about this, and his father's reluctance to let him do it. But there wasn't much his father refused him. He was, however, insistent upon accompanying his son to Russia, his reasoning being that one parent should go and Lance's mother might not be able to handle the different tests Lance would have to complete for acceptance into the program.
Not long after their arrival, Lance waits patiently as the doctors prepare for the initial medical exam. He suddenly remembers he still has his ring on and doesn't want to lose it, so he excuses himself to find his father. He's about to enter the waiting room when he sees his father speaking in a low voice to a man Lance has never seen before. Lance has been introduced to nearly everyone he will be working with this weekend, but this man is a stranger, and he's handing something to his father. Something small and metallic. The image of the stranger handing his father that mysterious object burns in Lance's mind throughout the day, and it's while he's waiting for the next test that his mind begins to flash on other things in his life that seemed strange. This isn't the first time he's suspected something wasn't quite right.
May 1981
Progress Report: Project C-BOP.56
The experiment seems to be progressing nicely. The subject . . .
Jim sighed. It was hard writing about his son in a dispassionate way. He had just passed his second birthday, and was the apple of everyone's eye. There had never been, it seemed, a sweeter, sunnier child. Even Stacy, in spite of some normal sibling rivalry, adored him.
Sometimes Jim wished he had never gotten involved in this, but when the Agency approached him, he couldn't say no. And the project had such potential. World peace potential. So Jim labored on in his deep cover operation, for all the world appearing to be just a dad.
March 2002
With the day's tests completed and another full day ahead, Lance and his entourage return to the hotel after a relaxing dinner. His father instructs him to get a good night's rest despite the time difference. Still slightly keyed-up, Lance picks up the phone and calls JC.
JC is asleep when the phone starts ringing. He'd deliberately taken it to bed with him, setting the volume as high possible, so he'd hear it, not matter how deeply asleep he was. He and Lance had promised each other when this started that no matter what the hour, they'd answer the phone. So that's what he does. "H'lo?"
"Hi darlin'. Did I wake you?"
JC groans. "Don't ask. How's it goin' over there?"
"It's going pretty well. Lots of tests, though. What are you doing in bed at this hour? Did you go out last night?"
"What time is it? Don't I usually sleep till . . . " JC peers at the clock. " . . . noon?"
"I guess so. Without me there to get you up I guess you could sleep all day."
"My little alarm clock."
"So what are you gonna do today?"
"I've got some studio time booked. So, are they treating you all right? How are the tests?"
"Not too bad, but there's a LOT of them. And you should be glad you're not here--they took blood."
JC grimaces. "If I didn't know how bad you wanted this, I'd tell you you're crazy."
"And they have to do another one tomorrow. It was, like, a big needle, too."
JC puts a pillow over his head. "I'm not LIStening," he singsongs.
"They stuck it in my ARM and all this BLOOD came out!"
"I'm coming to get you RIGHT NOW."
"You better hurry! They're coming with MORE NEEDLES! AAAAAAAA!"
"Go ahead. Make fun of my fears."
"Aw, I'm sorry. It really isn't so bad. Just a lot of poking and prodding."
"Just come back to me in one piece, okay?"
"I will. I guess I should get to bed before my dad bangs on the door and tells me I've been on the phone too long." That triggers the memory of what he saw today. "JC, can I ask you something? You ever notice anything strange about my dad?"
"Strange how?"
"Just . . . strange. Like, I saw him talking to this guy today . . . never mind. I don't know what I'm talking about. I think I'm just tired."
"You're right. You should get some sleep. 'Cause I'm going to wear you out when you get home."
"Is that a promise?"
"Absolutely."
Lance hangs up, weary for bed, but still with the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Memories flash in his mind as he drifts slowly off to sleep.
JC waits a moment after Lance hangs up. There's a click, and Jim Bass comes on the line. "Anything suspicious to report back there?"
"No, nothing. But I think Lance is beginning to suspect you. He asked me . . . "
"I heard."
JC blushes, thinking of some of the other things he'd said. "Oh, I . . . "
"You handled it fine, JC. If there's nothing else?"
"No, nothing."
They said their goodbyes and hung up.