Majestic

by Unknown

  That he had acquired a strange musical talent after returning from the HMS Diana. That he, just like Wyatt’s dad, could never have any x-rays done or he’d be all aglow and turn transparent.

  And, that there was a reason why he and two other shipmates on the Diana never experienced any radiation sickness—or any other sickness for that matter—for the rest of their lives.

  That it had something to do with the aft gun turret of the HMS Diana, a turret that contained a 4.5-inch radar-controlled surface-to-air gun that had activated itself and aimed towards the sky as the ship sailed through that radioactive cloud.

  Her dad and two others were in that turret, trying to ascertain why the gun had reacted automatically.

  Then, they looked up and saw it.

  And felt it.

  The powerful beam that blinded them for a few seconds. The beam that caused them to vomit blood within minutes of being exposed.

  She couldn’t tell Wyatt that these objects in the sky with the powerful beams had been spotted at every single military conflict in the last 100 years.

  At every war, every nuclear test, every serious conflict.

  And, she couldn’t tell Wyatt that the New Horizons probe that had just sent back photos of Pluto wasn’t really designed for Pluto at all.

  Pluto was just a fly-by.

  The stated purpose of the mission, and the photos of Pluto, were just smokescreens for the real purpose of New Horizons.

  The naïve public thought that this was all just for their entertainment. Just to further their knowledge of Pluto.

  Like, who really gives a shit about Pluto?

  Did they really think that their precious tax dollars went towards financing a horrendously expensive ten-year mission to a planet that probably wasn’t even really a planet?

  The probe had just finished a 3.5-billion-mile journey to show the world what Pluto looked like.

  But, the world couldn’t handle the knowledge of what the probe was really intended to do.

  It would now keep on flying, off to the outer universe into the Kuiper Belt, onward to its real destination. This probe, the size of a grand piano, had a most serious mission—much more serious than sending silly photos of Pluto back for the masses to enjoy.

  And, she definitely couldn’t tell Wyatt that the sphere that she’d seen in Willy’s studio this morning—the perfectly carved piece of granite with the mountains, canyons and tunnels—was a familiar object to her. Every single mountain, canyon and tunnel seemed to be exactly where they should be.

  Because she’d already seen renditions from the Hubble Space Telescope. A long time ago. Not clear photo images, more just computer imagery. But, enough to scare the shit out of those fortunate enough—or unfortunate enough—to see them.

  Yes, Wyatt would indeed be alarmed to know that the real purpose of the New Horizons probe was to seek out and photograph up close and personal, the exact sphere that his very own father had sculpted a copy of in his studio.

  Chapter 15

  “No reports at the hospital, and none of my officers have seen anyone looking like those two guys. They’re either laying low, or they’ve left town. I’m guessing the latter. It’s been three days now, and no sign of them. So, don’t worry, Dad—I don’t think they’ll be back.”

  Willy paced back and forth in the studio, while Wyatt sat calmly on a stool near the window.

  “I can’t believe they were able to walk out of here, Wyatt. They were out cold and I was only away from the studio for a few minutes, phoning you.”

  “Dad, I know from experience that unconsciousness sometimes doesn’t last very long. We’ve had prisoners that looked half-dead, then they suddenly bounced back to life ready to take on the world. These two punks probably woke up and just got the hell out of here as fast as they could. You scared them—they probably didn’t think you’d be able to fight back.”

  Willy nodded.

  “Don’t worry about it. They just wanted to steal some stuff, and now they’re gone. They won’t be back.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “So, what did you hit them with? One of your tools?”

  Wyatt noticed a bit of hesitation before his dad answered. And, being trained in observing and interrogating, he noticed his eyes make a quick involuntary movement. A nervous movement that was totally out of context with the conversation.

  His father’s eyes glanced up at the wood plank ceiling.

  “No, I just used my fists. Lucky for me they were in pretty weak shape. An old guy like me wouldn’t have had a chance otherwise.”

  Wyatt nodded, got up from his chair and walked to the center of the room. He stared up at the ceiling, right at the spot where his dad’s eyes had flicked to.

  There was something.

  He went over to the workbench and grabbed a flashlight, then walked back to the same spot and flashed the torch at the ceiling.

  “Wyatt, what are you doing?”

  He could see it clearly now. A splatter of blood with some green woolen material stuck to it.

  Wyatt lowered the flashlight and directed his attention back to his father.

  “Dad, that’s blood up there. And, didn’t you say one of the guys wore a toque?”

  Willy nodded.

  “A green toque?”

  Willy nodded again.

  “You’d better come clean with me—now. How did the guy’s head get way up there?”

  Willy stood motionless. His mouth started to move, but no words came.

  Wyatt walked back to the workbench and was just about to put the flashlight down when he noticed something else. He shone the torch along the edge of the counter. More blood, and this time there was a clump of hair stuck in the mess.

  “Dad, tell me what went on here!”

  Willy walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “I had a burst of strength, probably from the anger I felt about their threat against your mother.”

  Wyatt pushed his hand away.

  “Dad, you’re eighty-seven years old! Are you telling me you took on both these guys by throwing one of them up into a ten-foot-high ceiling and the other one across the floor into this workbench?”

  Willy nodded, sadness covering his face like a mask. “As I said, a burst of strength.”

  Wyatt pointed. “You were standing over there, in the center of the room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you threw one upward, and the other one over here?”

  Another solemn nod.

  “Dad, from over there to this workbench is a good twenty feet. At my age, I couldn’t even do that, let alone muster the strength to throw a human body straight up into a ceiling.”

  A look of resignation came over his dad’s face. He grimaced and leaned his head sideways.

  “I guess it’s about time I told you some things.”

  * * * * *

  Listening to his father for the last hour had left Wyatt spellbound. It sounded like a movie script—for a horror film.

  It was almost impossible to believe, but here was his dad sitting right in front of him, telling him this tale—and, because it was his father, he believed every word of it.

  The story ended with Willy asking, “Well, what do you have to say?”

  Wyatt let out a long breath—a breath that he was sure he’d been holding for the last sixty minutes or so.

  “I knew that transparency thing was a weird reaction, but I never could have imagined this. When I saw you like that in the hospital, I was horrified. And, I did kinda wonder why you seemed so calm. Now I know why. This happened before, and you were told that x-rays would set it off again.”

  “That’s right. I wasn’t really concerned—but I was alarmed that you and your mom saw me like that. I’d gone for so long keeping it all a secret, and I’d done a pretty good job of it. Until that day.”

  “Now I understand that other sculpture I found over there in the corner—the skeletal-looking soldier. The one you’d covered up wit
h a tarp.”

  Willy just sighed and lowered his eyes.

  “Was it the Chinese? Or the Koreans? A secret weapon they had?”

  His father looked up again and shook his head.

  “I don’t know. The general just said it was an enemy—he didn’t say who. But, I heard afterwards that just the sight of that thing in the sky sent the Chinese and Koreans into retreat. So, I don’t think it was their craft.”

  “Well, aside from little green men, who else could it have been? They were the only two enemies we were fighting in that war. And, we wouldn’t use a secret weapon against ourselves. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  Wyatt was thinking about what Allison had told him about her own father and the crew of the HMS Diana. The British had indeed used a weapon that infected their own sailors—just to test the effects of radiation. Luckily, her dad had escaped any consequences, but most of those sailors had died of radiation sicknesses years afterwards.

  “Well, I guess there have been incidences where countries have tested weapons against their own people—so maybe that was it. There was Agent Orange here in the U.S. and the HMS Diana nuclear incident in 1956—Allison told me her father had been on that ship.”

  “I’ve thought about that over the years, Wyatt, wondering if they’d tested something on us. That general didn’t seem surprised by any of the side effects—he seemed to know a lot about it, as if he’d seen it happen before. And, the doctors in Seoul appeared to know what they were testing for.”

  Wyatt scratched his chin. “That could be it then. Stick out your tongue now, Dad. I want to see it. No need to hide it from me anymore.”

  Willy leaned forward and stuck it out as far as he could.

  Wyatt recoiled. Shocked at the sight, he couldn’t control the involuntary reaction. His hands flew to his mouth and he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

  “Shit, Dad! That’s horrible! Looks like fish scales! Does it hurt?”

  “Sorry about that, son. Now you know why I didn’t want you to see it. And, no, it never hurts—in fact, it always feels just kind of numb.”

  “Mom must know about that tongue. I mean, you do still kiss, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, she knows—but that’s all she knows. I gave her some bullshit story about how some of us drank water contaminated with traces of acid during the war. Kinda lame, but she bought it.”

  “After hearing this story, no wonder you’re so youthful for your age. I just thought it was good family genes.”

  “Well, I guess it is, really. I told you the general said that my DNA was permanently changed. And—keep this in mind, Wyatt—you were conceived after the Korean War, so part of the ‘new me’ is in you. Have you noticed anything strange about yourself?”

  Wyatt shook his head, and then chuckled. “Aside from my devilishly handsome looks, no, nothing at all.”

  Willy smiled. “Now, remember I was sworn to secrecy on this. You can’t repeat anything to anyone.”

  “Christ, what can they do to you now, Dad? That was almost seven decades ago!”

  “I get visits every three years or so, Wyatt. From people who never give their names. They check on me, ask questions, then they leave. They know where I am and I have the feeling they’ll always know where I am, no matter where I go.”

  “I want to meet these people the next time they come around, Dad. I won’t let on I know anything, but I want to check them out. Okay?”

  “Okay, son. There’s another reason why we have to keep this between us. Money was deposited into a Swiss bank account for me back in 1950. I had to wait until the year 2000 before I could access it, and even then I was restricted to only ten percent a year until death. But, once I die, the account gets collapsed and the full amount gets credited to my estate. I haven’t drawn one cent from it yet. The money’s been invested, and has now reached over five million.”

  “Christ!”

  “Yes, indeed. But, here’s the kicker—if they discover that I let the ‘cat out of the bag’ on any of this, I lose the money.”

  “We’ll keep it quiet, Dad. Just between us—don’t worry. But, we have to make up some kind of excuse to Allison to make sure that they don’t give you any x-rays when you’re down at the CDC clinic for your checkup. If they give you x-rays that would certainly let the ‘cat out of the bag.’”

  “Yeah, we’ll think of something that will convince her. Might just say I get reactions to radiation—like rashes, things like that.”

  Wyatt nodded. “God, no wonder those boys took off faster than antelopes. You must have scared the shit out of them, seeing you glowing and looking like a skeleton, then experiencing your strength—they must have thought you were some kind of creature from Mars. Or a superhero.”

  Willy laughed. “I do feel sorry for them, have to be honest. Sure, they were scum, but no one deserves to be scared like that.”

  Wyatt stood and walked over to the sphere in the corner. “Dad, what the hell is this all about? What is it you’ve made here? Looks like a planet with mountains, canyons, tunnels—is this supposed to be Earth?”

  Willy shook his head. “I haven’t got a clue what it is, son. It can’t be Earth—I’ve already double-checked the topographical maps and none of those features match. I don’t know what made me create it—as I told you, I just woke up in the middle of the night, in a daze, and felt compelled to do it. I had no control at all—was like I was on auto-pilot, hypnotized maybe. It’s a real mystery.”

  Wyatt knelt down and tried to roll the sphere. It wouldn’t budge no matter how much of his strength he put into it.

  “Somehow, Dad, you’ve kept this incredible strength a secret from me and Mom your whole adult life. So, now I want to see it firsthand. Roll this sucker. Show me.”

  Willy sighed. “See, even with my own son I’m becoming a circus freak. Okay, I’ll oblige you. But, I can do much better than just roll it.”

  Wyatt watched in stunned silence as his dear old father crouched, wrapped his arms around the solid granite sphere, and lifted it into the air.

  Clutching it tightly against his chest like a newborn infant, he stood with ease to his full and youthful six foot, three-inch height.

  Chapter 16

  “How yer head doin?”

  Matt Lawson gently rubbed the bandage plastered to the top of his skull.

  “Is kay, I think. Still gettin headaches, but not as bad. How yers?”

  Brody Finch tilted the bottle and sucked back the remainder of his beer. Snapped his fingers at the waitress on the other side of the bar, pointed to both empty bottles, and held up two fingers.

  “I dunno, Matt. The low part of my head hit that bench thin. Was bleedin, but seems to haf stopped now. Neck aches, though.”

  “Freaky night, huh? Ya think that was a costume he was wearin?”

  Brody shook his head. “No, he looked normal after few minutes. Sumthin wrong with that guy. And gotta axe myself why he dint want to phone the police. Dint you wonder bout that?”

  Matt nodded. “Yep, thought that was strange. And…what kind of man can t’row people round like rag dolls? Even karate guys can’t do that. I weigh a buck-sixty and he shoved me straight up in d’air.”

  “Well, he tossed me bout twenty er thirty feet into that bench. And, he’s an old dude. He got sum lab in that place, maybe? Making sum super drug or sumpin?”

  Brody turned his head at the sudden loud chatter up at the bar. He noticed they were all watching the TV mounted on the wall behind the counter. Some were laughing and pointing at the monitor, and there was some applause.

  Then, he saw a familiar face on the TV screen. He grabbed Matt by the arm and pulled him up from his chair. He pointed at the screen. “Look! Is him!”

  They both stared with their mouths open in astonishment at the image of the handsome old man who’d scared the shit out of them several nights ago. Then, the image disappeared and the news feature was over. Everyone at the bar applauded and clapped each o
ther on the back.

  Brody rushed up to the bar with Matt in tow. They sat down on stools and ordered more beers. Then, Brody turned to the middle-aged guy next to him.

  He motioned his head in the direction of the TV. “What wuz that all bout?”

  The man smiled at him. “Oh, just something on the local news about one of our local celebrities. Willy Carson. He’s a renowned sculptor, and news just broke that he’s going to be the spokesperson for a new luxury hotel to be built here. We haven’t had a new hotel here in about a decade, and this is going to be part of that big chain, Diamond Hotels. And…his sculpture in honor of draft-dodgers is going to be a monument in front of the hotel. We’re kind of excited!”

  “His name Willy Carson, you said?”

  “Yeah, he lives just off Baker Street. Big beautiful house. He’s quite wealthy from all his artwork. Well-loved guy, we’re all so happy for him.”

  “Thas good news fer yer town, eh?”

  “Oh, it’s big news, son! Big news!”

  Brody nodded.

  “You boys just passing through?”

  “Yup.”

  “Where from?”

  “Vancouver, on way ta Calgary.”

  The man stood up and held out his hand. “Nice chatting with you. Safe travels.”

  Brody shook his hand. “Thanks, man.”

  After the man had moved off, Brody grabbed Matt by the collar of his shirt and tugged him back towards their table.

  “We gotta talk bout this.”

  * * * * *

  “We never need to intervene until things become weird. These people have always been allowed to go about their daily lives until something happened that would be too hard to explain.”

  Allison nodded agreement. “I understand that, Chad, but he’s an old man.”

  “They’re all old now, Allison. That’s the problem. Most of them will outlive all of us, so we need to continue to keep an eye on them—and, after we die, our successors will need to carry on watching them in our place. Who the hell knows how long they’ll live?”