WELCOME TO THE CONTROVERSY! "This nation cannot be overthrown by battle. It would never allow itself to be. America can only be overthrown by removing its reason for greatness, its exceptionalism and existence as a force for world influence for good and freedom. The driving purpose that led our brothers and sisters to shed their blood for a new country and which drove a people and a President to hold fast to the premise that the nation could not be divided into two in the bloody civil war. Our vision of defeating evil, which gives our men and women in the military valor and a willingness to sacrifice in each of our American centuries, has been freedom. The greatest force for freedom has always been the Constitution of the United States. Now, this government, of the people disregards the people. Now these rights, for the people, seem to have been invalidated by a force that has no constitutional right to do so." - Author Steven Clark Bradley

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Re-Constitution - Strokes of Genius by Steven Clark Bradley

Though I am totally untouched by any stroke of genius and am a normal man, intelligence-wise, in every way, I can imagine how it would be to have a mind that was able to absorb knowledge as fast as it was given to me. Sam Wells is one of those people who have a brain that surpasses those of any of his teachers. He is national treasure, b ut his nation is trying to kill him, because he has made a discovery that he knows, if in the wrong hands could shift the world's balance of power and that it could be used for terrible purposes. Though Sam knows his discovery could bring great advances in life and longevity, he fears it will be used for death more than life. Read my brand new chapter to my novel in progress, Re-Constitution and i bet you find an ability to relate to Dr. Sam Wells better than you think you could. I know you'll love this chapter!

Author Steven Clark Bradley

ICAF Safe House
San Gabriel, California
January 6, 2013, 9:52 p.m.
“Oh God; they’d kill me to have what I have discovered” Sam Wells shouted over the blaring Pink Floyd Animals album, which he played over and over, the TV at high volume, set on the Fox News Channel and his peering eye staring into the microscope. He was looking at the molecular structure that had taken six months to understand. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, and he thought he had studied every structure known to science, and indeed he had. This was something new … different …not from this world, though not at all alien.
Sam had not rested one day since returning from Iraq with an alias, a fake passport and some new friends, who had stowed him away in a safe house in San Gabriel, California for safekeeping. He had not seen the outside world for months, and he loved it that way. No time for friends; they only get in the way and waste my time. He had told himself constantly, and his present circumstance suited him fine, except for his constant darting around in every direction at the array of computer screens on his huge desk; at the file, the surveillance screens that he feared would show he was about to have some visitors, who were lying in wait outside.
Sam simply wanted nothing to interrupt his study of this new and special material that seemed like elastic life that could regenerate and reconstitute and dissolve the sting of death. He knew, just like every great discovery from gun powder to dynamite to nuclear power, what he had in his possession could be for good of all, in the right hands, just like president Truman had known after they had proven that the power of the atom could be harnessed, and just like had been proven since Hiroshima, in the wrong hands, it would become a deadly force in the possession of men like President Thomas Arthur.
The Oval Office
Washington D.C.
January 7, 2013, 12:52 a.m.

“I’d kill to have what Dr. Egghead has discovered, and I might have to kill you if this isn’t good, Mr. Attorney General, at this time of night.”

Attorney General Harold Bolder smiled and even laughed, but he knew that this president whom he had privately said had ice water flowing through his veins, was capable of anything to get what he wanted. “Mr. President, you know you’d be lost without me.”

“Perhaps that’s true, but I’d find my way.” President Thomas Arthur replied. “Well, sir, I think I can bump my longevity up a notch or two and make this late hour worth the yawns.”
“Talk is cheap, except when I speak. That always ends up costing billions. Impress me Mr. A.G.”
ICAF Safe House
San Gabriel, California
January 6, 2013, 9:54 p.m.
Sam wasn’t sure if his vocal cords were working or not. He hadn’t said an audible word in months. His every communication had been over encrypted emails and text messages to his new friends. It was just him and one Ruby Zhang who had made sure that the new material he had found in Colonel Nathan Hawk’s pockets got as much time as Sam needed to figure out the properties of the amazing material and its potential. So, he simply checked in with Ruby before he slept every night and when he awoke every morning. There, in his little cubbyhole, his voice was constantly drowned out by the blaring TV and music.
The only thing Sam Wells, Doctor of Environmental Engineering and Green Molecular Technology would ever let disturb him or even slightly interrupt him was thinking about his past. That was only because he had struggled so hard to get control of his existence as a man simply wired differently than others. Coffee made him calm down and warm milk made him nervous. Sam was the only person he knew who could sit and read whole encyclopedia volumes because he never had to study.
Sam’s mother had given his astounding brain the name of Hoover, because it was like a vacuum that sucked up everything he learned instantaneously, and Sam regarded Hoover as much an adversary as a friend, since Hoover had caused him to live a lonely, strange existence. Sam knew, like these amazing leaves he had found, his structure too was different than others, almost incomprehensible in fact, even for his mind to fathom. He liked them mostly because even Hoover could not figure them out so quickly. Hoover used to make him angry and sad to the point of wanting to die. So, making his menacing friend that was his brain work harder than normal was fine by Sam.
The Oval Office
Washington D.C.
January 7, 2013, 12:54 a.m.
“Well, this might cost you some overtime, because I think we’ve found Wells, and one Ruby Zhang. Do you recall her?”
“Ah, yes Ruby, she’s the head of that Asian thing for freedom. I can’t understand what their problem is. Some would argue that there’s more freedom in China now than in America, which is fine by me.”
“Yes, that’s the one. You’ll need to find her later to keep your word to the Chinese if you can get them to sign on.” Attorney General Bolder pointed out.
“Keeping one’s word in politics is a novel idea. I knew I’d have to at some point.”
“I want to revoke her asylum here, but I can’t just yet.” President Arthur said.
“The timing on that may not matter anymore. Well, sir, this is actually a good news/bad news story and it’s not a joke.”
“It always is, Harold.”
“The bad news is that she knows everything. You had given her your word too.”
“Well, the promise book comes out every four years and we’ve just gotten reelected, so, you might as well burn the damn thing now.” Bolder laughed and hissed on the inside. “But, we know where they both are? I can’t let my agreement get out to the public. If it does, the American people will be calling for my impeachment before I’m sworn in for my second term.”
“Yes, sir, Ruby Zhang is located in an Asian community called Rowland Heights, California, a LA suburb, ICAF has stowed Wells away in a safe house they maintain in San Gabriel. It seems our pretty little reporter Nikki Peng from Taipei sent her the screenplay of what you’re about to do with China. When Zhang forwarded it to Wells, the encryption failed and the NSA latched onto it. Spying on our citizens and guests inside the country has become a very successful skill now in your administration, Mr. President. I have one hundred and fifty agents ready from the FBI Special Skills Unit ready with your order to take them into custody.”
Arthur took the order and signed it and handed it back to the Attorney General. “Overtime huh? Just don’t get any of them killed. The Vice President’s out of the country and I go no time for to go to funerals. But, that is indeed good news, Harold. Do it, but neither of them can die; at least not yet; even if they kill some of our people. You get this done for me and I’ll see to it that you get rewarded.”
“Is that a promise, Mr. President?”
“I give you my word.” They both laughed. “And, what about Hawk?”
ICAF Safe House
San Gabriel, California
January 6, 2013, 9:56 p.m.
Though he was now at peace with himself, Sam’s existence was once something that made him feel cheated, alone and obtuse. He had never had a girlfriend, and now at forty-six, he had still never had sex. Though he had all the right impulses for women, sex was something he could not concentrate on long enough to consummate. He was sure that if he were to ever be in the throes of lovemaking, he’d see something on the wall or Hoover would produce some kind of mental image that would generate thoughts of some new discovery or something he had read and that would be it. So, rather than making some lovely woman feel cheated and second to all, he just always blocked out passion, which was real and desired in his person, from rearing its all consuming head.
It wasn’t until after his mother’s death that he had read her diary that Sam Wells really began to cherish who he was and to see what he could do with his life. Her words, which Hoover could recite flawlessly, ran through his mind everyday without fail, as they were right now. Sam tried to keep his eye peering down at the living material in the microscope, but Hoover ritualistically replayed what his mother had written about him.
“When my little boy was born, the doctors were dumfounded. They looked at my little Sammy and were ready to slap his butt, but there he was, just breathing normally and staring them in the face with the most amazing look like he was thinking and wondering where he was, and what all those bright lights were that were making his unclear eyes hurt and squint. They ran all the usual tests on my miracle of God, but they still could not stop themselves from seeing the unique and special as something abnormal or flawed.” Sam did not even realize that he had raised his head from the microscope and was sitting in his chair with an eye dropper in one hand extended into the air and his other hand empty and extended as though he was holding a cup of coffee.
“I recall when they refused to put little Sammy in my arms. They said they wanted to check him out a bit first. I mean, the little fella had already put me in the hospital three times, before he was born, from bleeding. Each time they did the ultrasound, there he was inside me just moving and dancing around. Now, I can imagine my little Einstein was feeling around and pulling on things and wondering how it all worked and what it all was for.”
Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport
Taipei, Taiwan
January 7, 2013, 11:02 a.m.

Nathan Hawk had kept his distance from Nikki Peng. As nervous as she looked, with her head darting from side to side looking for whoever might want to take her or even kill her, he knew that her skills in espionage were not developed at all. She’s a journalist not a spy. He thought, but he could see her. In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He could not imagine why she was such a high priority for the administration, but it wasn’t his job to question, though he did nevertheless. As far as Hawk was concerned, she was the prettiest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. She was petite and looked totally gentle and kind. Through the scared and nervous look spread across her face, he saw a beautiful young woman with grace of movement. He tried to pull his mind back to the task at hand, but it wasn’t easy.

Hawk walked into the plane with his small carryon in his hand and tried to look as normal as he could. He didn’t have to count the rows because he already knew he’d be sitting right next to her. According to his briefing papers, his role was to simply put a set of cuffs on one Nikki Peng and escort her to security at LAX. That seemed simple enough until he finally took his seat and began to talk with this beautiful, smart and frightened Taiwanese fugitive.
ICAF Safe House
San Gabriel, California
January 6, 2013, 10:06 p.m.
“The day after Sammy was born; one doctor brought me some bad news, at least from their inferior perspective. They informed me that there were some profound mental abnormalities about my baby. They said that when they had laid him down on the baby mattress and turned their backs to get something, when they turned back around, Sammy had turned over on his stomach only twenty minutes after he was born. He had raised his head and was literally looking around. It was the doctors’ interpretation that this meant he had a nervous condition that would affect him mentally for the rest of his life. They were right, too.”
Without knowing it, Sam reacted to Hoover’s total recall of his mother’s wisdom with a huge smile and tears rolling down his cheeks and still plastered there in his chair in a frozen pose that had him looking intently around the room with his shifting eyes but seeing nothing but that which Hoover was playing back for him.
“I looked at Sammy’s face. He did have the most amazing expressions for a baby that had been thrust into the world only two hours earlier. The doctors told me that my son would certainly have learning difficulties, and that I would need to put him into special programs to help him. His face looked at me and tugged on my gown like he was telling me, ‘I know your voice and please get me away from these lunatics.”
The Oval Office
Washington D.C.
January 7, 2013, 1:07 a.m.

“Sir, our contacts in Taipei saw Hawk hand in his boarding pass and boarded the plane at 10:56 a.m. Taipei time. According to them, he had his eyes all over her. Hopefully, he was being vigilant and not sweet on her. She is … let’s say … very attractive.” Attorney General Bolder said.

“Well, she won’t be for long. We had a failsafe put in place; implanted in the back of our superhero’s neck. Hawk is my new secret weapon and being the superman he is now, he’ll be back regardless, I have been assured. I swore to save the American people’s money and trials and detentions are expensive, so …”

“Sir, that plane is full. You can’t …”

“I can do whatever I want to protect the American people. National security, that’s what it is; National Security, as it always is.” Arthur almost shouted and slammed his palm down on his desk.

“Thomas, this has nothing to do with national security. It’s about power and having your way no matter what it costs.” Bolder said strongly.

President Thomas Arthur looked sternly and defiantly at his Attorney General. “When has it ever been any different?”
ICAF Safe House
San Gabriel, California
January 6, 2013, 10:09 p.m.
Sam sat in the same self-induced stupor that always overtook him when he recalled his mother’s words. They helped him understand who he was. Though he had wished a million times that he was like everyone else, such recall helped him to maintain the willingness to be different, special even obtuse. He knew his mother understood him, and that was all he needed. Hoover filled his head again with his dear mother’s written words.
“I have never held any anger at the doctors, because they were confronted with someone, the likes of which, the world has rarely seen, and, actually, they were right. My Sammy is … different, unique, and special in every way. His differences have been both a blessing and a curse for him his father and me.” When Hoover ran that memory through Sam’s mind, he simply shook his head up and down in agreement and went on with his playback, which he never considered to a waste of time, but his way of holding his special character together.
“When Sammy was two months old, I went into his room and he was sitting up in his crib and pointing to his mouth and moving his lips like he wanted to nurse. He never cried unless he hurt himself and even then his whimpers were like disappointment rather than pain. He never crawled, but he walked backward at six months before he ever walked forward at seven months. Once the doctor said he was precocious. I mean, by that time, I had already been told so many negative things by doctors about my child that I thought the word meant something bad, and I almost lashed out at the pediatrician but managed to hold my tongue. When I got home, I looked up the word that meant advanced and unusually bright, and that was the first time I began to see Sammy as someone special instead of something strange and not flawed in some way.
“One day, when Sammy was only eight and a half months old, I was in the kitchen cooking dinner. I had left my boy in his crib asleep. He was tired because he had taken apart his fisher price toy and put it back together; a feat even hard for Sam, at his age. Then, there at the cutting board with knife in hand, I felt something tugging on my apron. I looked down at my Sammy who was standing below me and looking up at me with matter-filled eyes and said, “I’m hungry mommy, what’s for dinner?”
I instantly put the knife down, because I almost dropped it, as my mouth dropped open and my eyes filled with tears. My husband was at the table and had not even seen Sammy walk in. The little fellow’s voice was so clear and so precise that his father thought someone had come over far older than his son’s age and was speaking to me. My husband turned around and before realizing it was Sammy and said, “Me too! Sammy?” His daddy stood up so fast in shock that he almost fell down.
“Without even washing my hands, I picked up my brilliant son and hugged him and cried. His father walked over to the counter where I had been cutting some meat for dinner and right there, we all hugged each other and swore to give this little boy all the love, education and faith that we could. Of course, he taught us, eventually far more than we were ever able to teach him.

Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport
Taipei, Taiwan
January 7, 2013, 11:11 a.m.

Hawk had already stowed his carryon under the seat in front of him and sat down and strapped himself in. He tried as hard as he could not to look at the Asian beauty seated next to him, but as much as he was dedicated to carrying out his mission, he was still a man. He looked at Nikki Peng’s sweating face. He knew that it wasn’t the cabin temperature making her perspire so much. She was terrified. It all told him know that what he was doing was a top priority because the beads of sweat above her beautiful Asian eyes told him she had done something or knew something that she felt was about to kill her. He was determined not to let that happen.

“Don’t like to fly?” Hawk asked a very nervous Nikki Peng, as he handed her a tissue.

Startled, Nikki seemed to rejoin the world again, just as the plane had made its final turn onto the runway for takeoff. “Oh, me? Haha, no, I fly all the time. I have a bit of a fever is all and didn’t sleep well at all last night.”

Hawk had a Taiwanese newspaper open even though he couldn’t read a word of Chinese. “Nathan Hawk.” He said and held his hand out for her to shake.

Nikki took his hand and shook it. “Nikki Peng, nice to meet you.”

“Yes, I know.” Nikki felt his words run through her mind and made her shiver with fear. “Isn’t it actually, Szu Chieh, Peng? Sorry if I destroyed your name.”

Nikki looked at Hawk and stared for a few seconds. “How … how do you know both of my names?”

Hawk chuckled and pointed his finger down at the newspaper where her column was spread open revealing her photo in the corner followed by her public name, “Szu Chieh (Nikki), Peng.” Nikki immediately relaxed and wiped her face with the tissue Hawk had given her. “Yes, yes of course; I am a journalist.

“Indeed you are, and the prettiest one I have ever met … in fact … Haha, the only one I have ever met.” They both laughed as the 747 suddenly threw them slightly back into their seats as the engines revved and they mounted to the sky toward destiny.
ICAF Safe House
San Gabriel, California
January 6, 2013, 10:12 p.m.

Sam Wells heard a beeping sound and he actually tried to shake away the daily journey through his past and the ritual recitation of his mother’s words, but Hoover just would not release his grip over Sam’s head. He submitted and sunk back into his thoughts and let Hoover take the lead.
“At one year old, we had already gotten him recordings of the alphabet, which he listened to only once and immediately learned to associate the sounds with the letters. The first time he heard them and looked at the letters in the book, he ran to the fridge and rearranged the magnetic letters I had placed there into the words “I love you mommy and daddy.” That was when I named his brain Hoover.
Hoover, my son’s vacuum cleaner brain let him graduate from High School at nine. In one year, Sammy completed all the way through the fourth grade and the same thing with each consecutive year. Sammy completed his bachelors of science by twelve and his master’s and doctorate by fifteen and became the youngest professor in history at Cornell when he was almost sixteen. In fact, the doctors were all right. Sam, my amazing child, did have learning difficulties. It was hard to find enough information to keep his miraculous mind busy enough. I love him as he is; I would never change a thing about him and he is my claim to fame.”
That was his mother’s last sentence. She had written it all during the time she was dying of breast cancer. Sam had tried beyond hope to find a cure for her disease, but even he could not change what had been her fate, and she died before she could complete her son’s story. She never mentioned the sadder parts of her Sammy’s life. She could not bring herself to record how he had tried to kill himself three times before he graduated from High School. Even Sam had felt the weight of loneliness that was inevitably his because no one could relate to or understand him. Those who were far inferior to him intellectually had branded him often as a retard, and though he knew he wasn’t, it had taken its toll on him.
So, he took from his mother and father what they had been able to teach him; that there was a God in heaven and that god had made him special, knew him before he was formed in his mother’s womb and who had something great for him to do. It was that truth, which he fully grasped and now believed that had kept him alive after the only two people who had understood him fully and loved him unconditionally, had died. Now he lamented that if he had found what was alive and miraculous in the lens of his microscope, his mom and dad would still be with him today. That gave Dr. Sam Wells great hope for the future and the thought seemed to have distracted Hoover.
When Hoover took a break and stopped replaying Sam’s mother’s words, Sam wiped his eyes and face with his sleeves and heard the beeping sound again. He looked up at his computer screen and saw an urgent message flashing across the screen that read “Security Breach.” Sam read it the message that ruby had sent with the failed encryption and sent Ruby Zhang an encrypted text message; he wondered if this was the day he’d be joining his mom and dad.

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