Kilo-61 (Damned of the 2/19th Book 19)- Ongoing

There's Noplace Like Home

"Can we go slower," Vollman asked, staring at the wall.

On my right was an American flag over the silhouette of a city, a man and a woman in 1950's clothing bracketing the flag, and above the flag was simple words.

"THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA"

On my left were paintings that were startling to the others. I'd seen it before, and I had to admit, it took a couple of minutes to sink in.

A infant girl in clothing, front and back, then naked, then in the Vitruvian Man pose. Then an infant boy. It repeated for both sexes through prepubescence, adolescence, then adult. There was a pregnant female, posed from the side to show the baby inside as well as the birth canal.

By the time we reached adolescence the one of the right had begun showing soldiers through time. just forward looks, in uniforms, and when we reached the end of the Vitruvian Man section, there was a mural of males in Korean War era equipped and uniformed men charging toward the viewer with an atomic cloud behind them.

"They wanted whoever came in here to know that this was the warfare section, didn't they?" Vollman asked wryly.

"They needed to be warned," I said. "The people who might have discovered this might have been Stone Age tribesman. The faces on the soldiers are designed to strike fear into people." I reached forward and tapped the face of one of the men charging out of the atomic strike. "Look at him, now think of how a primitive people would react to sight of him."

Kingston shook his head, "Think of the effort that went into all of this," He said as I started walking again. "Beyond funding, beyond construction and outfitting. Psychological analysis, drift analysis, all of it."

"Best minds the 1950's had to offer, with 1950's morality and ethics," Heather giggled. I glanced at her, just to check. Yeah, she was still shifting into the same Cromwell who'd been at my side in the dark and cold.

"Show 'em the good stuff, Ant," Bomber said, leaning against the upcoming door. He was wearing chocolate chips and carrying an M-16A2, his boonie hat pushed back and a cigarette in his mouth. I could see through him.

"Same men who brought us the Tuskegee Experiment," One of the SEALs grumbled.

"Yup," Heather giggled.

I glanced back to see the SEAL glaring at her.

"We made her crazy, Ant, it ain't her fault, brother. They gave us Cromwell, and we broke her," John told me as I walked past him.

We stopped at the door and everyone waited for me to throw the bar. The door hissed back and I heard a couple of people exclaim at what was beyond it. Weapons on racks. Most of them Korean War and World War Two era. Solid weapons, that could be repaired by a moderately skilled metal smith and machinist.

"Need to see medical, Ant," Heather said.

I oriented myself, closing my eyes and visualizing the map. When I opened my eyes and looked, Nancy was leaning against a door, slapping it with her hands and grinning.

"There," I told her, pointing at the door Nancy was in front of.

"Two men," Heather snapped, walking toward the door.

"Blake, Reginald, with the Chief," Kingston said.

"Masks on, gentlemen," Heather told them as the two SEALs moved up next to her.

"Where are we going?" Vollman asked, eyeing the roof. "God, I'm hating this."

"You'll be fine, agent," I told him. I actually felt bad for the guy. Once he realized that whipping out his agency dick was only gonna get it torn off, he'd actually calmed down into a decent person.