"What the hell...?" Conrad Klehm repunched a status command in to his computer console, and the results were the same. "Cripes,"
"Problem?" smiled Erim Wess.
Conrad shook his head, "Look at this," he reissued that power-grid status request command, and again, the display showed the same results, "What do you make of this shit?" he asked.
"What are you talking about," Wess leaned over his engineer's shoulder as Conrad pointed to spikes in the grid.
"That!" Conrad's eyes were wide. "There's a huge spike in Truss 4,"
"Where is Truss 4?" Erim asked, and in a second, Conrad Klehm had the answer,and it blipped on the screen, "We have Truss 4, here?"
"Apparently. Do we report this?" Conrad wondered.
"Are you nuts? IF we don't it's our jobs.. get the..."
The panel sparked. Conrad threw himself back and away from his panel as it errupted in a fireworks. He shielded his face with his arms, and fell to the floor hands over head.
The smell of burned copper rented the air.
A disembodied voice spoke, "I must speak with Jack Hutton,"
Conrad peaked up from under his arm and coughed. A man stood by his chair - tall, thin, grey skin, aged face, and grey hair..
"Who are you?"
"Conrad," the man called, "I have to see Jack Hutton.."
"Who the hell are you?" Conrad said..
"You wouldn't believe me if i told you.."
"It's me, Conrad... It's Jack.."
Klehm squinted and saw the man he'd known for year, "but you're ... "
"I don't have time to explain .. Get on the horn and call the CIA, and get my younger-self over here... if you don't, the shit's gonna hit the fan!"