Beast Machine

by Brad McKinniss

  Chairman Obelis swallowed slowly. “Are they human?”

  “What?”

  “Are they from the Earth, as in are they humans or… something else?” Chairman Obelis held up a cumbersome notebook that had been residing on the nightstand. “My father wrote extensively on what he knew about The Flagship. He often drew them too, when he would catch a glimpse of them.” He opened a page to a drawing of Aster Granzella and what she looked like in the 1970s. She was the woman found on the pinup poster in McCarthy’s interim room. McCarthy’s eyes squinted at the drawing. “He often thought they were from a different world but had nothing to back up that claim.”

  “They’re as human as us, far as I could always tell,” replied McCarthy. “All of them had emotions, had to piss and shit, had to eat, had to breathe oxygen – as human as us. Their technology seemed out of this world, but they are human.”

  Chairman Obelis sighed, “That’s what I thought.” He stood up with the notebook in hand. “Get some more rest, Joe. We’re going to need you in this last leg of the race.”

  McCarthy laughed, “Thank you, but I think you have this thing all wrapped up.”

  Chairman Obelis winked and walked out of the room.

  McCarthy let out a bout of flatulence that would make a bovine blush. “Been holding that since I woke up,” said McCarthy.

  -----

  Chairman Obelis made his way down to the war room, where Jeffrey was waiting for him. Jeffrey was still fielding any calls or emails that Arkansans might have about Chairman Obelis. With most of the state under Chairman Obelis’ thumb with the Carda Implant, there were rarely any calls or emails.

  “What’s the word on Silva and that miner?” asked Chairman Obelis.

  “Oh, hello, sir,” replied Jeffrey. “He will begin an autopsy within the next few days. He says he’s tinkering with some tool that will help improve the Carda Implant. A tool that will be able to send out updates to each person.”

  Chairman Obelis disregarded Jeffrey’s last comment. “I’d like to be briefed immediately on the autopsy results once you receive word from him or Thane.”

  “Of course, sir,” said Jeffrey. “What about McCarthy? Did you ask him about the creatures your father wrote about?”

  “He’s still too weak to talk about such things,” said Chairman Obelis. “He’s slowly opening up to us, just like I knew he would. We must first figure out what was meant by Malthus visiting us out of the blue. It’s an out of character move.”

  Chapter 38

  Rough Terrain

  A man wearing brown cowboy boots, jeans, a brown polo shirt, and a shiny bolo tie inserted a quarter into a rusty coin slot of a payphone. He pulled out a card from his back pocket then began to dial the number found on the card.

  His head tilted left and right anxiously as the tone buzzed. “Yeah, is this, uh, that white haired guy I bumped into in El Dorado, Arkansas?”

  “Mr. Erdol,” replied Bob, “pleasure to hear from you. I didn’t think I’d hear from you…”

  “Heh. Sure, I guess,” replied Jimmy Erdol. “You have no idea how hard it was for me to find a damn payphone. I’m in a rundown neighborhood, bunch of ethnic types and bums lurking about. I didn’t bring my gun either, stupid me. Didn’t think I’d need it…” He laughed nervously then felt to see if his wallet was still in his back pocket. “So, what’s the scoop? Where am I, and the others of course, supposed to meet you?”

  Bob laughed slightly, “You all have access to a helicopter, correct?”

  “Well, sure, we can find one. Or just use mine, I suppose. I didn’t want to get it out of storage just yet. It’s a new model and I’d like to keep it pristine.”

  “How many are coming with you, Mr. Erdol?”

  “There will be six,” he sighed. “No wait, seven. Definitely seven, including me. Seven total.”

  “And all seven of you gentlemen are in positions of power? Senators, wealthy businessmen, and so forth. Particularly in Arkansas?”

  “Well yeah,” laughed Jimmy Erdol. “You expect a bunch of welfare queens to be able to pay you? We’re all oil and gas men, don’t fret. Mostly old money, I believe, so we know how these things go down. What’s your fee by the way?”

  “Bring the amount you believe that I’ll want.”

  “Um, what?” Jimmy Erdol looked around. The payphone he was using was next to a rundown gas station. The side of gas station had been spray painted with the words: Where is the savior we need? Each word a different color than the other; black, blue, green, white, brown, red. This angered Jimmy Erdol. “I think I’ll just bring a lot.”

  “A wise choice, Mr. Erdol,” said Bob quietly. “I am pleased to hear that.”

  “Yeah, so give me the directions, damn it. I don’t got all day.”

  “You’ll fly to Dallas, then need to drive to San Antonio.”

  “We can just fly directly to San Antonio… and the helicopter when does it come into play?”

  “No, you must follow these directions, Mr. Erdol. Patience.”

  “Fine.” Jimmy Erdol looked at his surroundings again. A young black woman with short hair was pushing a beat-up stroller down the side walk. The child in the stroller was giggling. Jimmy Erdol shuddered. “Just hurry up and tell me the rest.” He looked at the spray painting again and spit on the ground.

  “After you’re in San Antonio, you’ll use your helicopter to fly to specific coordinates.”

  “Okay, uh, sure. So how the hell am I supposed to get my helicopter to San Antonio, but fly by plane? Can you explain that to me? Is the helicopter even necessary?”

  “Absolutely necessary. You’re a man of means, Mr. Erdol. You will find a way, I’m sure. Unless you aren’t up to it.”

  Jimmy Erdol sighed loudly and then spit at the ground. “Damn it, this shit better be worth it. What’re the fuckin’ coordinates?”

  “You’ll want to fly your helicopter to N29.62, W100.46. Leave in two days, I will be ready to greet you all once you all arrive.”

  Jimmy Erdol wrote the coordinates quickly on the back of the card Bob had originally given him. “So N29.62, W100.46, correct?”

  “That’s correct, Mr. Erdol.”

  “Got it. Before I go, I just have one last question for you… Why are you making us go through such an ass-backwards way to meet you? We could just as easily fly directly to you.”

  “I want you to ask yourself the entire time before you meet me, ‘Is this really what I want?’”

  -----

  Erdol and his constituents arrived in Dallas two days after his conversation with Bob. None of them brought any luggage with them, aside from their cellphones, wallets, and for one man, Allen Zuber, his small gun. Jimmy Erdol had told them to not bring large sums money to this visit in case plans went awry. Each of the men walked to the front of the airport and found two van taxis waiting for them. They split into groups of four and three into the vans.

  Zuber sat in the same van as Jimmy Erdol and two other oil and gas executives, Carl Bjornssen and Lester Pigeon. “How long is this drive gonna take?” asked Zuber to the cabbie. “We’re in a hurry.”

  “About four hours,” replied the cabbie. “Unless you boys want the scenic route.”

  “Hell no! Just get us there as fast as possible,” said Jimmy Erdol. “Don’t give a shit about no scenic views.”

  “Why couldn’t we just fly to San Antonio,” asked Bjornssen. “We’d have been there already. He wouldn’t have known.”

  “I’m following his rules, okay,” replied Jimmy Erdol. He looked at his watch, the time said 10:45 AM central time. “Now just shut the fuck up and relax. I’ve got four hours of not hearing a peep out of any of you weasels, okay?”

  Each man nodded and leaned back in their respective seat. They’d rather just put up with Jimmy Erdol and get this secret meeting over with. No reason to start any trouble within their own ranks.

  To the dismay of Jimmy Erdol and the other men, the drive took well over four hours. Apparently, heavy
road construction plagued interstate highway 35. “It’s been like this for years,” relayed the cabbie. “I’d use another route, but it’ll take even longer.”

  “It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Jimmy Erdol shaking his head furiously. “I’m just going to be stuck with these dipshits for even longer.”

  The other men shrugged sadly.

  After a dreadful six hours, the men had finally arrived in San Antonio. They were dropped off at an outlet mall in the west part of the city. Jimmy Erdol begrudgingly paid his cabbie since it took so long to get to San Antonio. “You knew it’d take forever to go that way, you punk ass. That way you could charge us way more than needed, god damn scam artists!” yelled Jimmy Erdol after paying the cabbie.

  “Whatever, man,” said the cabbie as he drove away. The cabbie gave Jimmy Erdol his middle finger and yelled, “Sit and spin, old man. Sit and spin!”

  Jimmy Erdol shook his head angrily as he put his wallet back in his pocket. The other men were laughing at Jimmy Erdol and how the situation unfolded.

  “Got’em good!” laughed Bjornssen. “Totally got’em, Erdol, ha!”

  “Oh shut the fuck up,” said Jimmy Erdol. “I’m the one that set this shit up, so I’m the boss. None of you clowns would be here without me or my family’s connections.”

  “Whatever,” replied Bjornssen. “Where’s this heli of yours? Behind this Jo-Ann Fabrics?” He laughed again.

  “Actually, it is.” Jimmy Erdol smirked proudly at Bjornssen and the rest of the men. “Follow me, gentlemen.”

  The other six men followed Jimmy Erdol around the Jo-Ann Fabrics to a large dusty field directly behind the store. They stood there for a few moments looking around. To the west was the dusty field that led into a vast nothingness except a highway and to the east sat the city of San Antonio, shyly peaking up from the Earth. There was no helicopter in the dusty field.

  “Well, Jimmy, where the hell is it?” asked Lester Pigeon. “We came all this way and you didn’t even remember to have the helicopter here? For fuck’s sake.” Pigeon’s face turned red and he grabbed his hair. The other men were beginning to become flustered. Jimmy Erdol stepped ahead of the group with his back turned to them.

  “Just wait,” said Jimmy Erdol as he raised one finger to the group. He slightly turned his head so the other men could see the wry smile on his face. “One minute.”

  Most of the men crossed their arms in displeasure. They thought Jimmy Erdol had pulled one over on them again. Suddenly, a breeze from the north began to roll through. The men, including Erdol, turned to their head to the north. In the distance was some sort of blurry object heading toward them. It was Jimmy Erdol’s helicopter.

  “My guy Stanzo flying in right on time,” said Jimmy Erdol.

  “Right on time?” said Bjornssen. “He’s late!”

  “I texted him on the way down that there was some construction slowly us down on the highway, so shut up. You pissants have to wait two fuckin’ minutes and you’re already spinning outta control.”

  The helicopter, its blades whirring loudly, sat down forty feet from the men. It was a behemoth of a machine, mustard yellow with one horizontal blue streak down the side. The doors of the helicopter slid open automatically, presumably by the pilot pressing a button.

  “Get in and buckle up!” shouted Jimmy Erdol. He placed a hand on his head to hold onto his hat as he walked toward the helicopter. He was the first to enter the helicopter and the first to place on his helmet. “Hey, Stanzo, what’s happening good buddy?”

  “Hello, Mr. Erdol!” replied Stanzo. “Always a pleasure to help a man like you.”

  “That’s what I like to hear, Stanzo!” Jimmy Erdol pointed to empty seats for the last two men that were having trouble getting seated properly. The helicopter had a comfortable seat available for each man. There even was a television available to watch for the forward facing passengers, though it was just a feed of a camera on the back of the helicopter. “We have a few rookjobs on the flight. So let’s keep it an easy ride, okay?”

  Stanzo laughed, “Where are we headed, sir?”

  “Ah yeah, the coordinates are N29.62, W100.46. It’s the middle of nowhere, near some state park I think.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  “This thing is called a Relentless,” Jimmy Erdol said to Zuber, who was sitting right next to him. Zuber nodded, feigning interest. “This heli isn’t even officially out on the market yet. I know the guy that runs the company that makes these things and other aircraft. Cost me a cool $20 million extra, but totally worth it.” Zuber nodded again, then turned his attention to the camera feed.

  San Antonio was fading in the distance. Despite not being a metropolitan giant, the city could still be spotted behind them for some time. It was a bright and lively place surrounded by nothing but highways and dirt.

  Once the city finally disappeared, Zuber turned his head to look at the others around the cabin. None of the men were talking amongst each other, just looking forward with a blank stare or glaring out the window. Zuber slowly touched his side. “Good, it’s still there,” he thought.

  The flight was a short one, especially in comparison to the journey from Dallas to San Antonio by car. A mere forty minutes as the crow flies. Strangely, none of the men had needed to use a restroom the entire day. It was as if none of the men had anuses or penises.

  “This is the spot, sir,” radioed Stanzo. “Where should I land?”

  “Looks like there’s some space next to the trees, just pop’er down there,” replied Jimmy Erdol, peering out the window.

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Stanzo sat down the Relentless helicopter where his boss commanded him to, right next to the trees.

  “Helluva job, Stanzo!” said Jimmy Erdol. “Shut her off and come join us.”

  “Sir?” said Stanzo.

  “Yeah, turn this thing off and join us. No one else is out here, and I highly doubt anyone that would be out here would know how to fly this pricey piece of equipment. Plus, I don’t want you burning anymore damn fuel. It’s expensive!”

  “Roger that, sir. Turning the Relentless off.”

  “Should he be joining us?” asked Bjornssen. “Does the white haired man know he’s coming?”

  “It’ll be fine,” said Jimmy Erdol. “One more body isn’t going to ruin anyone’s night.”

  “Whatever you say, Jimmy,” replied Bjornssen. “Whatever you say…”

  Once the helicopter had completely stopped, the doors slid open automatically. All the men hopped out, some more gingerly than others. Stanzo opened his pilot side door and climbed down.

  “Where is this guy?” asked Zuber.

  “He said he’ll meet us when we arrive, have patience damn it,” said Jimmy Erdol. Jimmy Erdol looked around. Trees to the south and nothingness to the north. The sun still gave them enough light to inspect their surroundings, but it would be closing for the night soon.

  “Good evening, gentlemen!” rang out a voice from the forest. Out walked Bob, wearing a beige turtleneck and dark blue jeans. He startled a few of the men. Jimmy Erdol was not one of those men. “It’s a pleasure to see you all, please follow me to my home.”

  “Your home is in the woods?” asked Bjornssen. “How do we know you’re not gonna try to turn this into a Deliverance situation?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Jimmy Erdol said to Bjornssen. He then shoved Bjornssen.

  Bob laughed, “There’s not enough water flowing in these woods to make it like Deliverance, but I can try to sort something out if you’d like.” Bjornssen laughed nervously. “Come now.” He turned and walked into the woods.

  All the men followed. Zuber asked, “So what do you want us to call you?”

  “Bob,” replied Bob. “Just call me Bob.”

  Jimmy Erdol smiled and then gave a haughty smirk to the other men. This was their guy. Bob was going to set everything straight in Arkansas, despite Jimmy Erdol not knowing how Bob would do it. Jimmy Erdol just knew Bob would come
through for them.

  “Not much further; watch your step,” said Bob. “There’s burrs that’ll catch onto your pants and shirts. Not too painful but a nuisance. Watch out for any snake holes too.”

  “I know something about nuisances, Bob,” said Jimmy Erdol brushing off some matter on his shoulder. “These guys are a bunch of Nancy boys. Not like us, though, Bob! We’re real men. Nothing would scare us!”

  “Is that right?” laughed Bob.

  “Damn straight, friend!” replied Jimmy Erdol. His smirk grew bigger the further they went into the forest that transitioned from trees to meek shrubs, bushes, and cactuses. The men behind him struggled to walk through the woods with their dapper suits and Italian leather shoes as the terrain transitioned from soft soil to dirt to rocky.

  “It’s right up here,” said Bob. The group came to the top of a short hill. All the men, except Bob and Jimmy Erdol, were sweating profusely. Ties were being used as sweat collectors and small rocks were being removed from fancy shoes. “I guess I should say: it’s right down here.”

  Jimmy Erdol and his gang looked down the hill. There was a small opening carved into an enormous wall of rock that appeared to be a dead end caused by a plateau at a higher elevation. The opening was roughly a few hundred feet down the hill. A brown door inside the small opening became visible the closer the group got to it. Bob began to walk down the slight decline towards the brown door inside the small opening. Jimmy Erdol followed suit.

  “Is this actually the place,” asked Lester Pigeon, “or are we going to have to fucking walk more once inside. My feet are killing me.”

  “I told you,” replied Bob, “this is it.” He continued to walk with Jimmy Erdol close behind him.

  Jimmy Erdol turned toward the other men and motioned for them to come along. He mouthed, “Come on!” to the men.

  After sighing, pouting, and clearing out the tiny rocks from their shoes, the rest of the men begrudgingly traversed down the slight decline. Bob and Jimmy Erdol were waiting patiently, and silently, next to the brown door. A few men walked slowly down the decline, as others moved at a snail’s pace by sliding their feet all the way down. Jimmy Erdol covered his face in embarrassment until all the men arrived at the bottom. Bob stood there smiling.