Soteria- The Crisis Forge

by Roberto Arcoleo

  “Go for it!” said Helena.

  Gabriela bent her head again and drew in half a line of the heroin. “My, that’s nice.”

  Lou Reed sat back in his chair. “Well, I guess this is one critic I don’t have to worry about.” He laughed out loud.

  Cohen continued to talk to Gabriela. “Do you like the Beat poets? Ginsberg, Kerouac, and Corso?”

  Her head spinning, Gabriela responded, “Yes, I love them!” She felt a strange sensation, a dryness in her mouth. Her lips started to feel numb.

  “Talking about those guys in Rome, I never understood what the Beats meant when they used the word ‘angel,’ except that it was a designation for a human being, and that it affirmed the light in an individual. What do you think about that?” asked Cohen.

  “Well, I know Kerouac and Ginsberg used the term a lot in the fifties,” Gabriela responded. “I loved those poems, but…” Her words started to bunch up, and she was afraid she was talking like an idiot.

  “The fifties, to me, were all about doo-wop. That music sang from the soul! It was funny and full of life,” interrupted Reed.

  Then, Cohen recited:

  No rest

  without love,

  no sleep

  without dreams

  of love –

  be mad or chill

  obsessed with angels

  “I think that’s right,” said Cohen. “It’s from Ginsberg’s ‘Song.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” blurted Gabriela. She continued:

  The warm bodies

  shine together

  in the darkness,

  the hand moves…

  “Oh, I can’t remember the rest right now. How I love that poem, ‘One melts within it’… I think it ends like that.” She looked at Cohen. Gabriela was spinning, but she felt as if she were in heaven. She could not believe she was sitting with two of her idols, talking about poetry and music and getting stoned. Her soul was singing. She looked over at Jason. He was staring at her intensely. It was as if he was saying, I see why my brother likes you.

  Cohen said to Reed. “So, like the Talmud says, ‘There’s good wine in every generation.’”

  Just then, Nico came over to the table. “Hey Lou, we got to get up on stage. Get your nose out of that stuff and get going.”

  “Yeah, and I have to catch a plane to Greece,” said Cohen. “It was really nice meeting you, Gabriela. And you, too, Mark. I am sorry I have to run. Take care, Lou… Jason, I’ll see you on my next stopover in New York. Bye, guys. It’s been fun,” he said, getting up and waving to the rest of the table.

  Angela came back with the drinks. “Bye, Leonard! Maybe next time you can hang out longer!”

  “Yeah, maybe. I hope so, anyway.” Cohen waved again to everyone and left.

  Reed slowly got up from the table, grabbing Jason’s shoulder for balance.

  “Wow,” he said. “I guess I started a bit early tonight.”

  “Come on, come on!” shouted Nico. “The band is up on stage already.”

  Reed slowly and tentatively walked away from the group with Nico’s assistance. They went behind the stage to get ready for the performance.

  “They were so ni-ce,” said Gabriela, her words slurring. She turned to Mark. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “Well, they’re Jason’s friends, not mine. Thank him.”

  “Yes, thank you, Jason,” she said sloppily.

  Mark paused and looked at Gabriela, “Are you alright, Gabriela?”

  “Oh yes, thank you. I feel just fine.”

  Helena turned to Mark. “I like her! I see why you’re into her, Mark. She is smart and beautiful, and maybe even fun!” She looked back to Gabriela and asked, “Have you ever gone down the rabbit hole, Gabriela? We can do that if you like!”

  “Rabbit hole? Where’s that?”

  “Oh, right here,” she giggled as she brought out a napkin bearing several sugar cubes. “It is deep and wide and ever so pretty.”

  “It’s acid,” said Jason. “LSD.”

  “Have you ever taken it?” continued Helena.

  “No… No, I’ve never done anything like that. What’s it like?”

  “Well, it’s more than a high. It’s kind of an experience,” said Helena, popping a cube into Gabriela’s martini. “If you don’t want it, I’ll trade drinks with you.”

  “No, I’m interested.”

  “Oh, good! Then we’re both off!” she exclaimed, popping a cube into her own drink.

  Jason was taking in the drama, enjoying the play between Gabriela and Helena. He looked at Mark and thought to himself, Maybe I’ll push this along a bit and play with Helena’s mind a little. I am curious to see the possibilities. You deserve some fun tonight, Mark. Don’t you think?

  Mark looked at Jason. He communicated, ‘Please don’t enter their minds! Please don’t control them!’

  Okay, Mark, he responded telepathically. Don’t worry, I won’t mess with your Gabriela. But I have a feeling they are both already in the mood for adventure. You have to admit, this is quite a show.

  They all slowly sipped their drinks. Helena turned and looked into Mark’s eyes, thinking, she is really nice; I could go for both of them.

  Jason smiled, I didn’t do that, Mark; this heat is all from them. From the stage, the hypnotic voice of Nico’s singing filled the room. Helena and Gabriela finished their drinks while the drugs floated them ever higher.

  “Gabriela, how do you feel? Do you feel the acid yet?” asked Mark

  “I’m not sure, but,” she responded, “it seems like the room is starting to pulsate. You look funny, and your face is starting to melt, but I feel really nice inside. All warm and loving and such…” she slurred.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, anxiously. He leaned over, whispering in her ear, “I can take those drugs out of you.”

  “No. No, please don’t… It’s nice. I feel like a… I’m not sure. I feel like I love everyone. Just everyone and everything. Oh… This room is so beautiful,” she said, almost singing her words with a smile.

  Helena came closer to Gabriela. “You know, you are really pretty. Your skin is like silk, beautiful white silk.” She touched Gabriela’s arm very gently and began to stroke it with her fingers.

  “You’re really beautiful, too,” answered Gabriela. “Very. I feel so cozy near you, Helena… What a sweet feeling this is… What did you call this? LSD, or acid, or something?”

  “Yeah, it’s really nice, LSD. They call it the love drug. Can I tell you something, Gabriela? I’ve never met a woman like you. You have such beautiful eyes, and you’re creamy like vanilla ice cream! I like being next to you…” Helena leaned forward, brushing Gabriela’s breast. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She grinned, indicating she was not. “I think I dropped something.” Her fingers moved playfully, gently touching her nipple through the cloth. She was not wearing a bra. When her fingertips found their goal, she looked into Gabriela’s eyes. “May I find it…?” Gabriela felt her nipple grow firm.

  She froze, feeling sensations she had not expected. The drugs were whirling within her. She touched me! Gabriela was surprised, but leaned forward, making herself more available. What am I doing, she thought, as she put her hand around Helena’s waist. She felt Helena’s breath upon her and then with a sigh she found herself sliding like a warm bar of soap into a steaming bath. She opened her mouth as she felt the touch of Helena’s lips.

  Everyone in the room began to disappear. Somehow, she knew Mark was okay with it all, that for her, in this moment, there was only Helena. The warmth of her, her moist mouth against her own… Helena’s hand glided along Gabriela’s silk dress, gently sending her body into quivers. She surrendered.

  Helena opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder towards Mark, her eyes communicating: I want you both.

  Chapter 40: The 22nd floor on Fifth Avenue

  Helena lived on the 22nd floor of an ostentatious apartment building on Fifth Avenue, a bit beyond Washington Square P
ark, just what one would imagine for a trust fund darling related to the Danish royal family. Mark sat nude in a large leather armchair in the living room, looking out the window onto the park below. He watched the morning activity; a warm light washed over the street, turning the pavement a light blue. It was a hazy day, for it had just stopped raining, and the NYU students were off to classes.

  Mark’s thoughts wandered. NYU has nicer-looking girls than Columbia. Why might that be? Of course, it’s harder to get into Columbia. Interesting question, the correlation of intelligence and attractive features in humans. They definitely wear more expensive clothing. My thoughts are starting to sound as silly as humans’.

  In the corner of the room, just to the right of the half-opened window, hung a playful sculpture by Calder. A breeze gently played with the dangling shapes. The rainy light cast only faint moving shadows on the pale-yellow wall. There was also a collection of photographs at the far end of the room, many by Robert Frank, Diane Arbus, Bill Brandt, along with other contemporary photographers: it was a well-curated collection.

  On the floor near the door sat a high-end stereo system by Macintosh. Deep rows of LP albums neatly lined the walls, mostly jazz, blues, and contemporary rock, intermingled with a collection of classical music, even an opera or two. Helena loved the opera, but without her mother around, she hardly ever went these days. There was a large sofa, two armchairs, Swedish of course, and a coffee table by Nakashima. The room felt austere but elegantly svelte. Not a thing too much, not a thing too little.

  Helena and Gabriela still lay in bed embracing; bare as newborns, sprawled on the king-size mattress, vestiges of the evening’s exhaustions. The stuffy Swedish mattress, centered on the floor, defined the space in typical hippy decorum. Books littered about her bed, everything from Nietzsche to Japanese manga. Helena was a mixture of aristocrat, bohemian artist, and abandoned spirit; she was a hedonist with a brain.

  The room had only one dresser with a large mirror attached, flamboyantly adorned with a filigree of nubile cherubs at play. The dresser itself was a gift from her mother; it was at least two hundred years old. The drawers were open with lacy undergarments languidly craning out like tinsel on a Christmas tree. Helena often tore frantically through her intimates in search of the perfect mood for the evening. She felt that a delicate French lace hidden beneath her clothing centered her being and set her tone for the night as if it were garnish to her soul.

  Gabriela was no novice in the field of love, but this had been her first time experiencing a woman. Helena had guided her with deftness and sensitivity, and within the swirl of ardent fever, the three had found no scarcity of pleasures.

  Just then, Helena emerged from the bedroom. She walked slowly towards Mark, her body swaying as she approached. She emanated a savory scent. Her walk beat a mantra; advancing slowly, each step, each gesture was deliberate and beckoning. Her manner played a sinuous rhythm, and when her eyes found him, she put her hands on his shoulders, stepped forward, and opening her legs, caressed him beneath her.

  “So, would you like some coffee?” she asked, moving her lips inches from his. “I make a wicked cup of New Orleans brew. What can I get for you?” she whispered in a sultry tone.

  “I don’t drink coffee,” he responded.

  “Well then, come back to bed. I always like it better in the morning.”

  Mark arose and followed her. As they entered the bedroom, he could see Gabriela was waiting.

  ***

  Across the galaxy, Allaceia’s ship approached New Tripton. She had come from Eldern, bringing the Triptonian ambassador with her. He had been visiting her home world. Mananken was an old friend, a trusted ally, and confidant. As they neared the planet, the ship’s captain turned to Allaceia. “We have been receiving emergency priority-one communications from Eldern. Shall we open a channel?”

  The emergency alert was a message from Elgert. He and Dronin had been frantically trying to locate her. I must respond, she thought, or I will raise suspicions. She had already prepared her excuses in her mind. The reason for my absence will be of overwhelming importance, yet I must be convincing.

  “Yes, open a channel,” she ordered. Allaceia activated her viewing screen and accepted the contact. Elgert and Dronin appeared. They were in the central chamber.

  “Grand Mistress, we have been searching for you. We have activated the portal for our meeting with Mark and Jason. You are needed in the chambers.”

  Allaceia knew that when her longtime colleagues addressed her as “Grand Mistress,” it was a telling sign. This was a formal request, nearing an order by majority rule.

  “Hello, my dear colleagues,” she said in a formal tone. “I apologize for my absence and lack of communication, but the urgency of this diplomatic mission left me no choice; secrecy was required. Are we on an encrypted channel?” Allaceia asked as she laid the groundwork for her excuses.

  “Yes,” responded Dronin. “But, why is it needed?”

  “Please double check, utmost security is necessary.”

  Elgert responded, “I am securing now. Encryption complete. Please tell us.”

  Allaceia continued, “Are we guarded from all ears, even the Prime?”

  “Yes,” answered Elgert.

  “I am about to enter the atmosphere of New Tripton. This will make communication impossible, so please allow me to talk without interruption. Our Triptonian friends believe they are picking up communication from an unknown species with intergalactic capabilities. They are approaching our galaxy in what appears to be a tactical formation. Some Triptonian scientists think it may merely be a cloud of dark matter, but the majority are convinced otherwise. Given that the Triptonians are charged with the defense of our federation, they must investigate the matter. They requested my presence here if they attempt to make contact. They regard my skill in communication as imperative.”

  “We understand, Allaceia. Can we assist in any way?” asked Dronin.

  “The Triptonians have requested that the knowledge of potential contact be kept secret until it has been confirmed and the strategy is set. I will be needed here for verification in either direction.”

  “You shall have all the time you need, Grand Mistress.”

  “As for Mark and Jason, I believe you should go forward with the meeting as planned. Explain to them what we are asking of them. I will record a video intended to introduce myself. In the video, I will explain that they are of my lineage and I will tell them the history of their proud heritage. I will also tell them that I am looking forward to seeing them and celebrating the success of their mission once it is complete.” There was a pause; Allaceia awaited their response in anticipation.

  “Should we go forward without you? We could postpone the meeting,” Elgert suggested.

  “No,” responded Allaceia. “It will serve no purpose to delay, and my focus is needed here. As you have said, the more delay, the more difficult their task will be. Have the meeting. If it is necessary, we can always have another. I will send my communication to the portal directly from here. Please tell them to await my words.”

  “As you desire, Allaceia. Our gratitude and well wishes go with you. Please keep us informed of developments when you are permitted to share.”

  “Of course, Dronin,” she replied. “I only hope that I live up to the Triptonians’ faith in me. I am sure I can translate any language. I hope I like what I hear.”

  “We stand ready to assist in any way you ask.”

  “Thank you both. Let’s hope assistance will not be needed. Oh, one other thing… The Triptonians feel it is a major priority that the Prime is not informed. They fear it could be a machine-based civilization and any communication between our Prime and such a civilization could be disastrous.”

  “We have little need to consult the Prime in your absence; we will heed your words concerning these matters, Allaceia. Our conversation does not leave this chamber.”

  “Farewell, my trusted colleges. I will be in touch as soon as I
have more information.”

  “Farewell, Allaceia. Our hopes go with you.”

  Allaceia ended the communication, and with the change from addressing her as Grand Mistress to her given name made her feel confident that she had pacified the situation for now. However, she knew Elgert would quickly enlist spies to find out as much as he could about her fabricated crisis. Her words concerning the Triptonians’ need for secrecy and fears of a machine-based society might quell him for a time. And she knew that he would only find obstructions and blind allies with his spies, but not forever.

  First, I have to prepare my communication to Jason and Mark. I will have to let them know that I am sending them help and that they will survive their ordeal. I will attend to Elgert later. She activated her recorder and began:

  “Mark and Jason, by now you have learned of your mission from the other members of the Council. I speak to you not only as one of the leaders of your home world and Grand Mistress of Eldern, member of the Supreme Council, but also as your birth mother. Greetings, my children, I have long awaited this day.”

  Allaceia’s message went on for some time, telling of their lineage, the noble and great names in the history of Eldern from which they arose. She spoke of the brave generals and leaders of the planet who had borne their lifeline, and the pride she felt in how her sons had evolved into the only beings in modern history to comprehend the depths of life that they could now see. She dared not convey the information she knew about the asteroid or the treachery at play, not only fearing that her words might be heard, but she was uncertain how this knowledge would affect them. The future of Eldern had to be primary. She needed a plan, but a secret one.

  She ended her message, “I send you both the Purple Flower of your heritage, the crest which has protected us for eons. It is far more than an ornament. I hope to speak directly with you both soon, to hear your voices and look upon you. For now, please accept my words and my fervent hopes for your wellbeing. Farewell.” Within an amulet bearing the flower, Allaceia hid a message that only Jason and Mark could see. It said that help would come.