by Matt Rogers
Chapter 9
Nat Hallowed was feeling something he hadn’t felt for so long he thought maybe his past reference was a hallucination; anxiety. Everything was happening so fast compared with previous events he was actually experiencing the amazing sense of worry and excitement at the same time. The excitement was easy to explain for they were finally getting a shot in the game.
Heaven and Hellion consisted of billions of worlds in thousands of galaxies and had been warring since before even he was conceived. He was of the Heavenly Guard and thus immortal, at least as immortal as one could be considering technological advancements. His initial body had long since perished and been replaced by others grown according to his specifications and wishes. Over the eons he had used many differing skeletal structures and was at that time employing one which was minimal in nature. Large head, giant eyes, two legs, two arms, one mouth and green skin. He found it amusing because the Humans found him terrifying. He’d needed to shed a similar form once when he was actually on Earth and fortunately for him and his sense of humor the little Inferiors had found the empty body. They even went so far as to construct a lab and experiment on it. For a little while he feared they might put it together and surmise they were not alone but Human nature being what it was they instead held to their beliefs they were the chosen ones, kept it a secret and went about their daily lives concocting new and inventive ways to destroy the very planet needed for their survival.
Nat didn’t dislike Humans, he actually enjoyed their company, but he was wary of a species which at first glance shouldn’t have made it out the starting gate. They were slow, weak and infinitely cruel to one another. When he first encountered the watered down descendants of Superiors he gave them about as much chance as goldfish in a shark-tank. They were, at best, middlesome predators. They could kill some but get eaten by others. He was somewhat sympathetic to their plight but it was not his mission to hold their hands and show them the way so it came as a surprise when they were able to do the one thing he had been hoping their birthing species could accomplish; voluntary if not harmonious cooperation.
Superiors could cooperate at times, they had proven it during the Great Flood, Freeze and Starvation. He’d been there when Heaven introduced an ice age to rid the planet of Superiors because they’d come to the conclusion a mistake had been made and wanted a start over. It hadn’t worked because the little Superiors refused to perish. They put up such a resistance to death Nat and Heaven eventually came to a separate conclusion; they were possibly the answer after all. So they allowed them to once again flourish but soon discovered Superior tolerance of authority and cooperation only lasted so long. Before one knew it they were back at their old ways beheading each other with fanatical enthusiasm. It was their past history which caused him the ‘worry’ part of his anxiety.
“What can I get you, Officer?” the waitress asked.
“A glass of sweet tea, please.”
He also loved the innovations Humans made with everything digestion related.
He was in a tavern down the street from the Capital building in Austin waiting for his contact to arrive. Nat was, at any time, any member of law enforcement he wished to be. He generally chose to work as a Detective in the Dallas Police Department because it really was the best job on Earth but he also held the title of Special Investigator in every level of authoritarian governance. From local, state, federal to covert he had the privilege and owned the badges. It was necessary to accomplish his task. He was the intermediary and arbitrator between Superior breeding and Human ingenuity. On innumerable occasions he’d needed to intervene for the Superiors’ survival. The Humans were a lesser breed but they held the numerical advantage over Wolves and Vamps and if they finally found critical mass and the majority of the population learned of Superior existence then one of two things would happen; either the Humans would overcome the Superiors with sheer numbers and be allowed to live or the Heavens would intervene and they would not. Humans were not the answer, they were merely a byproduct of the answer. He looked up as the murmuring began.
“Hello, Nat.”
“Hello, Governor.”
The Governor of Texas was a good-looking man. Broad of shoulder, full of hair, handsome with movie-star looks and raised with righteous Christian values. He also had a name which virtually guaranteed him ten points at the poll; Austin Travis.
“What are you having?” Governor Travis asked as he seated himself at the table while simultaneously smiling at his constituents and subliminally ordering his four bodyguards to keep them as far away as possible.
“Sweet tea and nachos” Nat replied.
The Governor sighed and Nat smiled at his discomfort. Politicians were seen as many things to many people and one such view was they were hogs at the trough of political money from Big Business, Big Lobbyist or Big Union. It didn’t matter which side of the spectrum one was elected from the other one-half the population which decided not to vote for them would always watch for weaknesses. The Governor’s weakness was food. He loved food. Couldn’t get enough of food. That, of course, caused him to get fat and thus be a constant reminder to the folks who believed he was sucking up taxpayer money to fund his overinflated ego. He became a cartoon caricature portrayed in the paper as some sort of maniacal tyrant ingesting everything in sight. It evolved to the point where the Governor, against his own personal desires followed the will of the people and hired a personal trainer to not only design an exercise regimen but also to put him on a diet. It led to his reelection which reinforced his will and made him into the man sitting next to Nat that day; an unhappy but willing participant in physical-form public relations.
“Hello, Mister Governor, can I get you anything?” the waitress said.
“A diet cola and a dry salad.”
The appointment had been set up by the Governor himself. He knew Nat had incredible connections within the law community even if he knew not how or why. He needed help with a problem which had arisen overnight and was ripe with speculation.
“Nat?”
“Yes, Governor?”
“What have you heard about the Alamo?”
“I heard someone blew it up.”
The story had led the news.
“Good morning everyone, this is Nick Price with the Channel Five Six-O’clock-News. We have a breaking development in San Antonio this morning. We are going live to Tim Tidbit for information. Tim, are you there?”
“Yes, Nick, I’m here.”
“Tim, can you tell us what you’ve learned?”
“Yes, Nick, we’ve learned sometime last night someone or something blew up the Alamo.”
“Are there any leads so far, Tim?”
“Nope.”
“Well, there you go, folks, someone or something blew up the Alamo. We will keep you advised as information comes in.”
The footage was not as impressive as the audio for the simple reason the Alamo was much larger in tale than realty. In real life it was the size of a two-story house without a roof or any furnishings. What the video revealed was a bunch of rocks in a heap and on the screen was the current title.
“Alamo Down!”
On the competing stations others were running with different headlines.
“Alamonomore!”
“cALAMOty!”
“Terror at the Alamo!”
And finally, on the public broadcast channel they were already lamenting the loss.
“Remembering the Alamo” sponsored by the Remember the Alamo! Foundation.”
Everyone was talking about it and the Governor was already hearing rumblings he wasn’t moving fast enough.
“Yes, Nat, someone blew up the Alamo.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“If we knew who it was we would have them in jail already!”
Nat knew the burdens of public office were, at times, a bit overwhelming for those who governed the place but he didn’t have much sympathy because they ran for the office themselves, no one
forced them in.
“If you yell at me again, Governor, I will stick that salad so far up your…”
He didn’t finish because the Governor interrupted.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just things have been a little hectic lately and, well, I’m freaking starving myself to death on these stupid plant leaves. I mean, I can’t even put a little bit of dressing on the dang thing. Do you know what this tastes like?”
Nat had no idea what undressed salad leaves tasted like because he had neither the desire nor the need for such information. He had a good hunch, though, because he was observant and had seen herbivores eat before. They did not appear to be having a good time. As far as he could tell it looked as though they were being punished for some reason. They ate with neither gusto nor great relish, merely standing there slowly gnawing away and biding their time until they became too fat to escape and were eaten by creatures who did indeed appear to be enjoying their meal.
“I’m assuming it doesn’t taste very good?”
“It doesn’t taste at all. It tastes like I’m eating paper. Do you know where paper comes from, Nat?”
“Yes, Governor, it comes from trees.”
“Uh huh. And so do leaves. I’m freaking eating paper, Nat. I’m eating paper and drinking this pathetic imitation sugar-water. I cannot believe I’ve sunk so low, but you know what?”
Nat looked at the Governor with impatience as he waited for him to get to the point.
“What, Governor?”
“I’d do it again, Nat, I’d do it again. And do you know why?”
Now the Governor was really getting on his nerves and Nat began wondering if maybe he should’ve ignored the invitation and remained in Dallas.
“Why, Governor?”
“Because I’m the right man in the right place at the right time in history, Nat, and history is what I’m about to make.”
Nat was finally becoming interested.
“How are you going to make history, Governor.”
The Governor paused his grazing, put down his chemically altered liquid preferred by four out of five fat people everywhere and looked at Nat.
“Nat, who do you think did this?”
“I don’t know, Governor. As far as I’ve heard no one has claimed responsibility.”
“Come on, Nat. It’s the freaking Alamo we’re talking about. You and I know exactly who did this.”
The trouble had been brewing for a while, actually from the start, for when land was in dispute neighbors became enemies.
“Who do you think did this, Governor?”
“Mexico, Nat. I think those Mexicans blew up the Alamo.”