The Last World

by Bialois, CP

  Steve sat back. “That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? Then the bad guys wouldn’t have the same technology.”

  That thought hadn’t occurred to Zach, but he did weigh it against his. “That’s possible, but what if they’re using it to spy on us?”

  Steve almost asked why would they do that, but he remembered seeing something similar to it on television about the government conspiracies over the years. At that moment, his fears and thoughts about the bad guys faded into the background. “They could be watching us right now.”

  Zach’s eyes widened, but he shook his head. “They couldn’t. It’d take up space and would leave a shadow or something.”

  “What about a camera?”

  Not one to be the conspiracy sort, Zach figured if the government was doing that, then they were already busted and he said as much.

  “I’m going to jail? Oh shit!”

  Despite it all, Zach wanted to burst out laughing. “No, we’re not going to jail, so calm down. I know where all of the cameras in the facility are and we are not in trouble.” Steve wished he believed what he was saying, but what could they do about it? If they were being spied upon, it wouldn’t do them any good to try to run and hide. This was the United States and if they wanted to find you, they would.

  Zach shook his head to clear out both his own doubts and those created by Steve. This was hard enough without having an anchor trying to drag him down. “Listen, we’re not terrorists or enemies of the state. We are United States citizens that have come across something peculiar. It’s that simple.” He didn’t add that they owned the salvage rights to it. “If they wanted it or knew about it, they would’ve come for it already. Have you seen any sign of them? No. You can bet your bottom dollar they wouldn‘t want this kind of technology to fall into the wrong hands.”

  Steve stared off into space for a moment while his mind worked over the problem laid out before them. If it wasn’t their government’s and they weren’t looking for it, that meant only one thing. When he looked back to Zach, he believed they shared the same thought. “We need to turn it over.”

  For everything they expected out of that damn meteorite, this was the last thing Zach imagined. His words to Steve a couple of minutes earlier rang in his mind again. If they handed this over as well-intentioned citizens, they wouldn’t be lauded as heroes but possibly detained as spies, or even terrorists. They’d be asked where they found it and, as much as they’d happily tell their interrogator that fact and how the metal had smooth sides without any edges, it wouldn’t prove it couldn’t have crashed there without more physical evidence.

  Zach began to feel sick at the thought of being locked away for twenty years for doing nothing more than what was expected of him. When did I start to think of this as Russia? He was being paranoid, and so was Steve. They hadn’t committed a single crime; at worst, the metal would be secreted away and they’d be forbidden to speak of it further. After all of their brainstorming over the previous few minutes, it returned to what they should’ve done in the first place. Zach burst into laughter at the thought and the circle their paranoid brains had taken them on.

  So sudden was Zach’s outburst that Steve almost fell off the back of the picnic bench he was sitting on. “What’s wrong with you? Now who’s making a scene?”

  Zach tried to stop, but he couldn’t as the absurdity of their entire conversation hit him. And to think, it was all started by his own deluded, paranoid thoughts. No wonder they never let his dumb ass into the military, he would’ve been the Rodney Dangerfield of his unit for sure.

  After a minute, his laughter began to slow enough so he could breathe again, but each breath brought a good deal of pain with them. The old joke “It hurts to laugh” came to mind and he began laughing even harder. If he knew whoever came up with that line, he’d kill him. The pain was pure hell!

  For his part, Steve watched his friend and thought he’d gone insane. There wasn’t any other way he could think of to explain it. He’d seen laughing fits before, he’d been the center of more than a few himself, but this was ridiculous. “Zach. Zach, will you stop, damn it?”

  That seemed to take some of Zach’s fire away, at least they both hoped so. When he regained control of himself, Zach wiped away the tears. To his surprise, the front of his shirt was damp from him crying and the sight threatened to set off another fit of laughter. This time, however, he was ready for it and held the laughter back through the pain it caused until it faded away.

  When he calmed down enough so that he was sure he wouldn’t have another recurrence and holding his sides with his left arm, he nodded toward Steve. “I think that would be a good option, only…” His voice trailed off on purpose, trying to bait Steve’s inquisitive nature.

  Steve saved him further trouble by taking the offered suggestion without a second thought. “What? Zach, we need to turn it over.”

  Zach nodded, then let his eyes fall to the table while he played with a hole in the metallic woven table top as a plan began to form in his mind. “Of course, we do. I’m just thinking about the metal. I’ve worked with some of the most advanced materials on this planet and I’ve never seen anything like it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Steve began to think along the same lines.

  “True.”

  “It’s completely smooth, not an edge to it, and it refracts light. By all accounts, it’s an impossibility on this world.”

  Steve’s eyes lit up as he caught onto Zach’s thought. “Yeah, it did come from a meteor. I saw it.”

  Zach nodded. “It could help us advance to a whole new level of understanding metallurgy.” Steve nodded and Zach continued, “Of course, once our government has it, they’ll lock it away in a vault somewhere and claim to have invented it twenty years from now. That’s after we’re sworn to secrecy about where we found it. If we even act like we know, they’ll lock us away for twenty years at least.”

  His last statement gave Steve a reason to rethink what he wanted to do. After a moment, he looked at Zach. “Would they really do that?”

  Zach shrugged. “I was never one for conspiracy theories, but ever hear of Roswell?” Steve nodded and from the look on his face, Zach knew he had him on his side. Add in what he wanted to show him before they left for the night, and the kid would probably worship him for life. “Tell you what, think about what I said. If, by the time I drop you off tonight, you think we should hand it over, we’ll do it. Although, it’d be tough to give up the fame and fortune we’d have once the press learns about the metal. Hell, they’ll probably name it after us.”

  Steve’s face lit up. “Really? You think so?”

  Zach had him for sure and shrugged. “Yep, we’ll go down in history.”

  Steve’s back straightened. “My nigga!”

  The smile froze on Zach’s face. Christ one of those. I sure know how to pick em. “Don’t ever call me that again, alright?”

  Steve swallowed, realizing what he said, and apologized with a sheepish look on his face. Maybe Horace was right about the term. It was just so easy to use.

  Zach smiled at him, he knew he hadn’t meant anything by it. “Eat up, buddy, we got a busy day ahead of us.”

  Steve smiled, glad he wasn’t going to have anything held against him for what he said, and unwrapped his sandwich from the vending machine. Egg salad. Not one of his favorites, but if Zach was right, he wouldn’t have to eat things he didn’t like for much longer. He’d even be able to move out on his own and make his father eat his lectures by the fistful.

  Steve took a big bite from his sandwich and gazed into the afternoon sky. It was a beautiful day with plenty of sun, only a few clouds overhead, and a slight breeze to cool one off. It sucked days like those didn’t last forever, especially during fall and with winter right around the corner. Even the trees seemed not to want to lose this weather, for their leaves hadn’t begun to change color yet except for a handful of trees. He’d take the sixty degree days and forty degree nights over any other
time of the year.

  *****

  Yes, the day was perfect and Janice was taking full advantage of it, along with Buster. In another four days, her boss would be back from vacation and she’d be cooped up in the office instead of outside on a day like this, so she intended to fully enjoy herself while she could. Among the many little things the puppy loved, going for walks was one of them. More so, he liked those involving the college campus that was only a couple of streets away from home. College kids were notorious for dropping things such as candy bars, candy bar wrappers, and even the occasional partially eaten bag of chips. To be in college one would think a person needed a brain, and indeed they did, but it seemed they didn’t have common sense or anything else attached to their intelligence. While not being one to judge, he was only a puppy after all, Buster understood they were the most likely to miss the trash cans or to just leave their goodies out for anyone to help themselves.

  It was something Buster learned on one of his first walks with Janice and whenever he got the opportunity, he’d do his best to grab a quick snack before his mommy had the chance to take it away or, worse yet, to pull him away. The latter was the most grueling and infuriating part of the walk. To be so close that he could almost taste the people-y goodness only to be yanked away without the smallest taste was absolute horror.

  To combat having to deal with Buster’s growing appetite, size, and strength—not necessarily in that order—Janice tried to avoid the commons as much as possible. Doing so helped but with trash cans scattered across the large grounds, it also proved difficult to keep her little boy in check. At least she had some help this time in the form of another pair of students that were also walking their dogs. In his own way, Buster helped her to his own detriment. By wanting to stop, meet, and play with the other dogs, he gave her the break Janice needed from pulling him away from the trash to talk to the other pet owners. Two of the three they stopped to chat with were women that were taking advanced courses in preparation for medical school, and the third was a young man pursuing a career as a paralegal.

  After talking to them for several minutes, she got the two women’s numbers to give to her dad for potential internships and wished the young man good luck. She considered herself rather generous after he asked her out following her informing him she had a boyfriend. The look on his face when she told him who Horace was proved to be enough payment for tolerating his advances. Horace had a reputation around campus that she never heard before. It made her sorry she graduated the previous spring; it would’ve been an interesting walk across the school grounds arm in arm with “The Hammer”.

  While Janice was having all sorts of fun and Buster was roaming somewhat free, Horace was in his economics class learning about some of the finer points of the stock market and hoping he’d be able to land an internship somewhere. Up until then, the only place remotely interested was the First National Bank of Tarken Heights. When he set his sights on economics, Horace envisioned something grander than the local bank, but after the first six months they would decide whether or not they’d want to keep him on full time. It was about the same he made as a member of the groundskeeper crew, but the hours were better and more stable. He was scheduled to graduate in the coming May, so the timing would be perfect for him. The only issue being, if Horace left his current position, he’d have to pay the full cost of going to school. If he stayed, he could lose the opportunity.

  Those were not thoughts Horace wanted to deal with on a day like this. He was five minutes away from class being over for the next three days and he didn’t have to work at all until the following day after trading his shift. It‘d mean he had to work on one of his usual days off, but it was worth it. With the afternoon and evening off, he planned to spend as much time with Janice as possible. Professor Davis was finishing his lecture when the bell sounded, but no one moved—they were finished only when their Professor was done. He didn’t take too long, and just when his students thought he wouldn’t end their suffering, he smiled and excused them until their next class with four chapters to read for discussion.

  Horace was raised with manners; he wouldn’t push anyone out of his way and he’d help anyone that needed it, but right then he wanted to get outside and enjoy himself. His fellow students felt much the same pang that he did, so there wasn’t a lot of waiting around for the room to empty. Once outside, he turned right and through a set of double doors, then left under the covered walkway lined with bushes and mulched flowerbeds. After about forty feet, he turned right onto a wood-chipped path leading into the commons where Janice and Buster were waiting.

  Once he reached them, Horace hugged Janice, returned her kiss, and then knelt down to pet Buster before the puppy broke a bone or lost his tail from wagging too hard. While he was rubbing Buster’s ears, Janice asked something he never thought he’d hear again. “Why do they call you ‘The Hammer’?”

  Damn it, Steve! Certain the name came from his friend, he rose to his feet with thoughts of murder dancing through his mind. He explained the origin of the name to her. When he finished, Janice fought back her laughter.

  “They’re scared of you because of a high school nickname?”

  “A football nickname. There’s a difference, you know.”

  Janice nodded, trying not to laugh in his face. “Still, it’s from high school.”

  Horace groaned, causing her to burst into laughter and leaving him embarrassed at a name he got for knocking out an opposing player that tried to tackle him. It wasn’t as if it was planned, he was the quarterback for God’s sake!

  Chapter 21

  The ringing phone on the nightstand filled the room with its obnoxious sound, but no one stirred. Winfield Bowen was in such a deep sleep of exhaustion that the sound didn’t cut through the thick fog between him and wakefulness. When it managed to finally slice into the deep recesses where his mind was hidden away from all outside stimuli, he leapt from the bed in an odd, twisted way with an arm outstretched to grab the phone.

  Few can say they’re intelligent when they first wake up and even fewer have any brain function at all when woken from a sound sleep by a phone or other unnatural method. Despite all of his skill, intelligence, and exploits, Winfield fell into the latter category. Among the first thoughts to cross his mind was the big one just dropped, and how far apart were the contractions. Nothing he’d have to experience at any point in the near future, but that is how the mind works. Lucky for him, all of those thoughts vacated his mind and the cobwebs were brushed aside only to be filled by another, more pressing fear. Something happened to Franklin!

  Once he held the receiver in his hand and heard the voice, Winfield couldn’t believe how relieved he was that the voice on the other end wasn’t Doctor Doug’s. “General Bowen?”

  Winfield remained quiet for a moment trying to put a face to the voice. “Speaking.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Winfield could hear the clicking of keys. “This is Captain Thompson, sir. We wanted to keep you within the loop for Orion IV. Is this a secure line, sir?”

  What the… How stupid is this kid? Winfield took a deep breath to calm his temper. As was standard protocol, he contacted the base he was stationed at for the foreseeable future with his contact number here in case something needed his attention. This was something unexpected. “Captain, let me ask you something. Do we discuss such things over motel room phones?”

  Winfield could hear the young man swallow, and when he spoke, his voice wasn’t nearly as strong as it’d been a moment before. “Yes, sir… um, I mean…”

  “Calm down, son. I assume your call is in the positive?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Next time you contact me you will not mention anything relating to this topic, is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, is there anything else, Lieutenant?”

  “N…” His voice trailed off at the mention of a lower rank but he regained his composure. “No, sir.”


  With a nod and without saying anything more, Winfield hung up the phone. As one of the top brass in the Military Intelligence, he knew better than to discuss certain topics over open lines and those beneath him knew better too. Winfield hadn’t been kidding at lowering the man’s rank, considering he could gain the support of the proper people. It amazed him at how fast his good mood from earlier was ruined because of an idiot that should be on KP duty for the remainder of his career.

  The funniest thing about the whole situation was that it didn’t concern national security, at least not in entirety. The Orion IV project was a new breed of satellite that lifted into orbit the previous week. While the threat to national security was slight since the new communication satellite was already in place, it was still something they didn’t want to become known to the world. The Orion IV was the most scientifically advanced machine mankind ever constructed, designed to monitor all electronic transmissions on the Earth for the purpose of national and international security. By doing so, it was hoped by its creator and programmer, Hans Fleece, to be the instrument to finally bring peace to the world and end the senseless killing one saw on TV on a daily basis.

  By using his own contacts, Winfield managed to sit down with Fleece and, over the course of three years, convinced him to work for the United States government. His reasoning was simple; if the intelligence branch of the United States Military knew what actions other countries were planning to take, it’d save time, money, material, and of course, lives. It was the perfect machine as far as he was concerned, and his superiors understood the ramifications of using such a device far sooner than he would’ve expected.

  Hans Fleece was given the finest laboratory and personnel he needed and wanted. The government couldn’t say no to the man that held the future of humanity in the keystrokes of his hands. Hans, for his part, agreed to develop his program into a usable device on the condition it would only be used to prevent bloodshed. His condition was met as no one intended it for anything else, not directly at any rate. It took another three years until the prototype was finished, with many more modifications than Fleece intended.