Free Earth Ship Protectress: Book Two in the Freddy Anderson Chronicles by John Ricks Page A

of your regulations govern planes and helicopters, not spacecraft. Those are just a few of the reasons why most of your regulations and laws do not apply to my ships.”
    “I understand, Dr. Anderson, but my hands are tied on this.”
    “I was afraid you’d say that, sir. I will allow you to inspect the craft, and I will make any modifications you suggest that make sense to me. You may have some very good ideas, and I will not turn down the opportunity to have access to your expertise; however, I will not make changes that I deem foolish or unnecessary. I am not going to build my craft to please some politician.”
    “Even if this means that you will not be permitted to fly the craft?”
    “I have every right to do what I wish over my own land. I can fly straight up or underwater. I don’t need any FAA regulations to do that. I’ll take it out underwater three miles and go up from there, or—if it really becomes necessary—I’ll buy an island and set up a base outside of the United States. I will not break the law. I will simply work my way around it, rather than allow my ships to be cluttered with junk, which would endanger the people in them. Let me be more positive, Mr. Fly. I think we can work with each other on this, but we both need to be open-minded and flexible. If you can explain to me why a regulation exists and how it pertains to my spacecraft, then I will try to accommodate you as much as possible.”
    Mr. Fly was not happy, but what could he do? He knew I was right.
    The commander then introduced me to four new navy additions. She had them stand in a row, like they were at inspection or something. The first one introduced was a seaman apprentice just out of boot camp. Her name was Julie Ann Weatherington. I touched her open mind and realized something was wrong.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Julie. Exactly what relationship do you have with Admiral Bates?”
    “None. Why, none at all.” Everyone could see the surprise and the blush on her face.
    She lied to me. She lied! I was so upset I turned angry, and that means I went completely unemotional, monotone, and businesslike. “Commander, please remove her from my home this instant.”
    Two SEALs took hold of either side of her and started to remove her.
    “Please—don’t. Please,” she begged.
    “Wait,” I said.
    “The admiral is my great-grandfather. He has no idea that I’m here. I won’t tell him anything. I promise.”
    I nodded. “I can see that you’re now telling the truth. Why are you here, and do you have any hidden agendas?”
    “I’m here because I asked for this assignment,” she said, “and I have no hidden agendas.”
    “You’re lying. That’s twice. Commander, please have her removed.”
    Susan gestured with her hand, the team took the seaman apprentice away. She was crying.
    I looked at the commander and said, “I think we need to revisit the questions we’re asking people.”
    The commander asked, “Freddy, was the navy behind this?”
    “No, I received the sense that she was hired by another military agency. It felt like the army.”
    I checked the open mind of the next person, Yeoman First Class Henry Peters, who was about twenty-five years old and stood about five foot eight or nine. He was not a SEAL but had extensive experience in running remote bases, including the paperwork involved. I detected nothing wrong with him. “Hello, Petty Officer Peters.” I put my hand out.
    “Hello, Dr. Anderson.” He had a good firm shake, “I do not have any hidden agendas. I am here because I was told there might be a chance that I could go into space, which is something I have always wanted to do.”
    “Henry, that is up to the commander. She runs this base and determines who does and does not work with me on my projects. I just let her know what I’m doing and what I think I may need. She’s really good at figuring out the rest. I trust her completely. Welcome aboard.”
    The next person was Lieutenant Robert