The Searching Soul

by Ronald Zastre

  “You covet the power, understanding has nothing to do with it,” Carl said, turning his head, not wishing to look at Mac anymore.

  “You’re always so sure. You always think you’re right. You really think that way don’t you?”

  “I try to be objective at all times.”

  “And that’s where you went wrong on this one, Carl my friend.”

  “You seem to think you’ve finalized this deal, that you’re in control. I have some disturbing news for you Mac.”

  “We have eliminated the opposition. Now we are the only ones that understand. I would say that indicates we are going to realize success. It’s too bad you don’t believe, it could be most comforting to you now.”

  “If this is the end for me, I can accept it. You know that.”

  “We will see Carl, we will see.”

  “What about you Mac? What’s going to hold you together when the end comes looking you up?”

  “My devotion is my savior. The Lord will protect me.”

  “You might have pissed him off with this latest stunt. You ever consider that?”

  “You are a fool Carl, you know that!”

  “Why, because I can accept reality? That makes me a fool?”

  “You have nowhere to turn and you continue to aggravate us. That’s what makes you a fool.”

  “Now is a good time to make my point. I mean, I couldn’t possibly jeopardize myself any more, could I?”

  “That’s true Carl. You are about as screwed as a person can get.”

  “So tell me Mac,” Carl asked sarcastically, “in your opinion, what do you think this is all about?”

  “We have found the gates to Heaven,” Mac answered excitedly.

  Carl pulled himself up against the wall, then started laughing.

  “You laugh?” Mac said scornfully. “We are at the gates of the Kingdom, and you laugh. I will pray for your soul Carl.

  “Don’t bother.” Carl was still laughing softly. “You just don’t get it, do you Mac?”

  “I have known you a long time Carl and at times I have respected you, but since this Holy occurrence your continued blaspheme is going to mean your end.”

  “You really think this is a religious thing?”

  “It is the opening to the Kingdom, the Kingdom you so ignorantly deny.”

  “Mac, there’s no kingdom. We didn’t understand the laws of gravity, that’s all.

  “We have the proof now, you fool.”

  “You’re the fool Mac. Do you think that if there ‘is’ a god, he’s as unsophisticated as you clowns think.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this! I’ll make you pay for talking like that!” Mac had flown into a rage.

  “Ah ha, you’ve just proved my point,” Carl said laughing harder.

  “How do you figure, dead man?” Mac spit the words out with venom.

  “Because a real, true god, a god that would be responsible for all the wonderful things in the Universe, would certainly not want the dedication of a perverted, power monger like you. You’re in it for personal gain, not for the kingdom.”

  “God wants to know that you want to be in his Kingdom. That you accept His wisdom. That you are willing to do His work. Only then can you enter.”

  “I would be surprised if it works that way. Why something so exalted would be interested in something as unimportant as our dedication, our subservience. Certainly the creator of something as immense as the Universe has more important things to do.”

  “We are his children, He wants us to be pure.”

  “You’re about as pure as yellow snow, he must be pleased.”

  “I’m above your sarcasm now. Why don’t you ask for mercy? It’s your only chance right now.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “You are a strange dude Carl. You’re going to die shortly, and still you stick with this stupidity. Pray Carl, pray for your soul, and everything will be all right. He forgives. Let him in your heart and you will suffer no more.

  “If I’m wrong and there is a God, he will look at me and understand. I didn’t use anybody, I didn’t use his name to get ahead. You are an asshole Mac because you use people and when you’re done with them, you get rid of them. That’s always been the difference between us. Any kingdom that would accept you, I want nothing to do with.”

  “You are uninformed Carl, and you will burn in hell for what you’ve tried to do, and for what you’ve said.” Mac turned and walked out of the cell, slamming the door. Mac spoke to someone outside. “Do what you want with him,” Mac said loud enough for Carl to hear.”

  Chapter 57

  THE SPACE SHUTTLE IGNITED ITS ENGINES - From the ground it was mostly the flame, smoke, and noise that was spectacular. The shuttle was a giant machine, encompassing the space plane itself, a monstrous fuel tank, and the adjoining solid rocket boosters strapped to the sides. It rose many stories above the launch pad. Being so immense, watching the lift off didn’t give the true sense of the tremendous acceleration the giant contraption achieved.

  Winston Adams, strapped flat on his back, facing the heavens, got an entirely different prospective as the massive fuel pumps rammed six hundred gallons of very volatile fuel, each second, into combustion chambers, producing six-million horsepower. He experienced what was really happening as the shuttle roared into the sky, subjecting his body to a constant 5 G’s, a strong vibration accompanying the pressing forces. It would soon achieve the speed of seventeen thousand miles per hour.

  Winston was relieved, as the space plane gradually diminished the tremendous acceleration and smoothed out. He had been concerned about the anxiety he might feel about the launch, but strangely he had remained calm and content with the whole thing. Now he felt impatient and uncertain about his upcoming duel.

  Ackerman, Anderson, and Walsh are my dedicated enemies and they are here, confined with me in this machine, no way out. They’re convinced they possess great power and are here to consolidate more. They’re also convinced; I’m nothing more than a mouth piece and simply lucky in perceiving their conspiracy.

  In that I hold my only advantage. I think I understand this new conduit opened when Donald was killed in the unusual environment of space. I think I understand my advantages in dealing with the coming event. But, am I positive? No I am not. Don’t kid youself Winston, you’re winging it and you know it.

  I’m glad Ackerman was the first to come in contact with the new awareness. Ackerman’s personality is so opposite of Donald’s, the Entity couldn’t unite properly. The new recruits, Anderson and Walsh, can’t fully sense what they have fallen into. It’s a thrill for them, a game so far, and they’re convinced nothing can stand in their way, so they are cocky.

  I have possessed this gift since birth and taken it seriously. I have puzzled over its uniqueness for years, wondering how it all worked. It wasn’t until Donald was killed that I had a real clue. Donald was killed in alien conditions and his soul; his electromagnetic field, due to the weakened conditions of orbit had enough strength to identify itself. In the weakened gravitational field it had broken loose and once aware it could grow. The Entity can now override other fields, but only in the environment it had first experienced freedom. This is what I’m counting on.

  “Well Winston, you got your wish, anything to say?” Bill Shell, the mission pilot asked. Shell and copilot Tim Burns were not privy to the intrigue, but resented Winston for pushing his way onto the flight. Winston had gotten out of his seat down below and had floated up behind Shell.

  “One hell of a ride,” Winston said nonchalantly. “I drove a double A dragster for a while and the G’s are about the same, but the car ride is over a lot quicker.

  “Do I hear a thank you?” Shell asked.

  “Oh, of course, you guys do a great job, I’ve never denied that,” Winston said, looking out the front window. The shuttle was still flying slightly nose up, so all Winston could see was the blackness of space.

  “Pretty bleak out there,” Winsto
n commented, moving over to the side window. From there he could see a little of the Earth’s far horizon. “You can actually see the atmosphere,” Winston said, then added. “It doesn’t look very thick from up here.”

  “From up here you can summarize how fragile it is. Sometimes you can get that funny feeling in your stomach when you think about how careless we can be,” copilot Burns said.

  Winston had not spoken to the three plotters. They had launched together, seated in the lower compartment, but when they had attained orbit and were free to leave their seats, Winston had wandered off. He was waiting for the shuttle to roll, tipping its back over toward the planet below. Winston was excited about seeing the Earth from this new vantage point.

  Winston was quiet and unobtrusive, as the crew went about their business. He had no duties to perform and spent his time watching the Earth rotate far below and trying to get signals from the three infected astronauts. The interference in the field had not increased, or diminished, and nothing new had surfaced. This is what had alerted Winston in the first place. When Donald had died, there was a sudden faint disruption in the web Winston got his intuitiveness from. He felt the disorganization and didn’t know what had happened, but he had never felt this peculiarity before. Most strangely was the fact that all his life, the signals had come at him from horizontal. Suddenly he had gotten this strange feeling from up above. It took only a second of intense concentration for him to zero in on the death of the astronaut.

  As soon as he met Ackerman the disruption was so intense it was best described as horrendous static. It was still the problem for Winston. He was looking for definite information from the three, but it was still intense, scrambled, unreadable data. Winston realized he had to think code breaker. He had to sort the static, make sense of it, and he had to do it fast. The three had sensed his presence circling their unique fields and they were trying to shut him out.

  At first, Winston figured the three would try to combine with the two additional astronauts to increase their numbers. The first real breakthrough was the realization that Ackerman, Anderson, and Walsh didn’t want any additional souls. They wanted it for themselves and were up there trying to understand and consolidate. On the third day in orbit, Winston was becoming frustrated. He had gained nothing, and their field was beginning to consolidate, becoming steadier, and he worried they were successfully screening him out. As solutions to problems often are; the answer was so indiscernible Winston over looked it, at first. As the three astronaut’s field steadied and condensed there came an ever so faint, but precise ripple on day four. The ripple took on the form of a defined signal, something to focus on. He realized that the three independent signals had been confusing him and not giving him a direct route.

  Winston had been giving the them their space, feinting interest, letting them think he had no idea what they possessed. For another day, Winston stayed away, letting himself into the ripple ever so slightly. On day six, with only hours until the reentry, Winston pounced.

  Ackerman, the unsteadiest of the three, was in the engineering compartment. Winston approached him, making sure Henry saw him coming. Henry had seen Winston many, many times during the mission, the closeness of the shuttle saw to that, but Winston always gave the impression of disinterest, and Henry had acted the same. Winston gave Henry no doubt he was serious about something this time.

  “What do you want?” Ackerman snarled.

  Winston didn’t say anything, just looked intensely at Henry.

  “What the hell do you want?” Ackerman spoke each word decisively, and there it was, the opening Winston was looking for. The panic Henry felt, at that moment, tore at his confidence in his new field and as it wavered, Winston lauched his gift to focus on Henry’s subconscious thoughts, and he quickly untited with Henry’s psyche.

  Ackerman shuddered as Winston smiled and turned away.

  Ackerman hurried to get close to the others, but they had no idea what Winston had done, even though Henry insisted Winston had accomplished something. Henry had been recognized as the weak link from the start, and that was why Kenny Keaton had insisted on this mission to unify. As Anderson and Walsh struggled with Ackerman’s field, trying to calm it, trying to bring it back into the fold, Winston sat back and picked its workings apart. He had not known how the three planned to eliminate him before, but there it was. The Entity needed the reentry, the severe disruption of the field from the intense heat and the ion buildup to snatch souls. When the shuttle came ripping into the atmosphere in less than an hour the three would take Winston, making him one with them.

  ***

  The shuttle dropped out of orbit, heading down to reenter the Earth’s atmosphere. As the shuttle entered the first of the thin atmosphere it began to glow and vibrate. The Mission Controller, Gill Henders, was talking to the pilot, Shell.

  “Roger Reunion,” Henders said, “I copy blackout in five, four, three . . . Do you copy Reunion . . . Reunion?”

  “That’s it people, they’re out of touch for a while,” Gill said, taking off his headset, leaning back in his chair.

  In the lower compartment of the shuttle, Winston and the three were seated in a row, Winston on the far left, the three others to his right. The shuttle began to vibrate, the intense shuddering building rapidly. Ghostly apparitions moved out of the three suited astronauts, Ackerman, Anderson, and Walsh and combined. The new apparition moved toward Winston in his suit and entered. Winston, inside the suit struggled momentarily and then relaxed. An apparition rose out of Winston’s suit, moved through the top bulkhead and into the control cabin. It moved over the two astronauts at the controls and divided, entering the two pilots. The pilot on the left reached out and pushed a couple of icons, then grabbed the control stick at his left hand and twisted. The shuttle began to roll immediately. The shuttle was now hurtling through the upper atmosphere, the heat shields becoming ineffective. The interior of the shuttle was engulfed in a blow torch.

  ***

  In the mission control room, Gill Henders was trying to raise Reunion.

  “Come in Reunion,” he called into his mike, “come in please!”

  “Riley, we should have them back, correct?” Henders turned to look at one of the mission specialists.

  “Yes,” the man responded, “they should have been back on the boards twenty-seconds ago. All the boards are dead, we are getting nothing.”

  Henders voice continued calling from Mission Control, for Reunion. “Come in Reunion . . . Reunion come in, please.”

  ***

  One of the chase planes sent up to escort Reunion to the landing strip was stationed at sixty-thousand feet and orbiting, waiting for the shuttle to come streaking out of the sky above.

  To the front, high above the plane, many streaks of smoke suddenly materialize, heading down. The plane continued, the smoke trails moving lower and closer.

  “I can see debris Houston!” the pilot shouted. “A large amount of smoking fragments raining down in projected flight path.”

  “Say again chase,” Henders’s voice sounded strained.

  “Smoking debris!” the excited pilot returned. “They’re from projected flight path. Shuttle is apparently destroyed. Do you copy Houston?”

  “We copy chase,” Henders said sadly. “No boards up here either. Vehicle and crew apparently lost on reentry.” Henders calmly took of his head set, set it on the counsel in front of him. He stood up and arched his back as he sighed deeply.

  ***

  The chase aircraft made a roll and turn, now flying parallel to the falling debris. A barely discernible object; it looked like a ripple in the color of the sky, detached from one of the falling pieces and headed toward the plane. The apparition entered the plane as it flew on, the pilot unaware of what had happened.

  Chapter 58

  IN A HOSPITAL ROOM - a man was laying in a bed with a near death pallor. The man was struggling to breath, the end of his life close. The same apparition that entered the fighter plane now material
ized in the room hovering over the dying man for a moment, then entering the man. The man’s breathing stabilized and he sat up, got off the bed, went to the closet, dressed, and walked out the door.

  ***

  Carl had been in his cell for many days, but he wasn’t exactly sure how many as there were no breaks from night or day because the door was tightly sealed not letting any light in. There had been only a dozen breaks in the monotony, when the door opened, always at night, and someone threw in a bottle of water and a sandwich wrapped in greasy paper. As quick as the door opened, it slammed shut again. No words were ever spoken.

  ***

  The door opened again, but this time it was a little light outside. The door stayed open, and Carl sensing the light, looked up slowly. Carl expected the door to shut again and didn’t try to get up. There in the dim light was the man from the hospital standing in the door. An unseen force seemed to pull at Carl, pulling him up, a bewildered look on his face. The man held out his hand to Carl and Carl stumbled toward him.

  “Hey Dinky,” the man said.

  Carl put out his hand, and the man took it, pulling Carl close, embracing Carl, giving him support.

  “Dinky,” Carl stammered. “Do you know Winston?”

  “Do I know Winston!” the man expounded, helping Carl out the door. It was evening, the sun had already set. Carl stood up straight, a little shaky, taking a breath. “Smells good out here.”

  Carl turned to the man and looked at him, studying him. The man was young, maybe thirty, thirty-five. He was solid built and handsome, a dark complexion, brown hair and eyes. The man gave Carl a smile and a thumbs up.

  “Do you know who I am, Dinky?” the man asked.

  Carl stood perplexed for a moment, then a small grin started to cross his face. “You came for me Winston,” Carl caught a sob. “I guess you were right!”

  Carl and the man embraced, again.

  “I’m kinda sad about not looking like Winston Adams anymore,” the man said, patting Carl’s shoulder. “I liked that guy and would have been proud to continue as him, but some sacrifices are necessary.”